Page 104 of Queen of Roses

I felt better than when I had fallen asleep. Even after a few hours without a dose of medicine, the effects had faded a little. Perhaps Draven was right and they would eventually wear off completely.

Draven stirred in his sleep and letting out a groan, pushed against me. I froze, my cheeks suffusing with heat.

The gesture was innocent. He was asleep after all. But it was also unmistakable.

By contrast, my own reaction was anything but. My body’s first urge was to thrust my hips right back against his.

I bit my lip, looking at Draven’s face, inspecting his straight nose, strong jaw, and high cheekbones.

The man might be morally reprehensible, but there was no denying he was the definition of handsome. I had never met a man who possessed such a dark beauty. The small hoop of silver he wore through his left ear. The way his dark hair fell over his forehead. The way his lips, full and sensuous, were half-parted as he slept. Even in his sleep, he was heart-tuggingly attractive.

Looking at Draven made me think of all that I had missed out on. All of the pleasures Lancelet was so apt to remind me I had never indulged in.

There was so much I hadn’t done. So much I hadn’t felt.

In this tent, in this moment, I had to admit my body yearned to be touched.

It was downright embarrassing. If I could react this strongly to a ruthless killer then maybe Lancelet had been right. I should try to experience more before it was too late. Before I was locked up in the Temple of the Three and sworn to celibacy.

There was still time. Sure, I was on a quest that had a high chance of ending with failure and death. But as I lay there, looking at Draven, I swore to myself that if a chance arose, I wouldn’t scorn it. I would seize it.

I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and smell the scent of him. But now I realized it was mixed with something else. Something sharp and metallic.

Blood.

I pushed away from his chest, scanning his body. There. Below his breastbone. A dark stain on his linen shirt.

Before he had killed Whitehorn, he’d been wounded.

Draven was stirring again. His eyes flickered once, twice, then opened.

I watched as they widened in surprise to see me. Then understanding dawned.

“Good morning, Princess.” He managed to grin and yawn simultaneously, then ran a hand through his hair, touseling the black locks into a state that was wild. Wild yet appealing.

I suddenly felt with every particle of my being the full awareness that I had slept wrapped in his arms.

Blushing furiously I pushed myself away, struggling to turn around in a very small space made for a single person. After some awkward rotations, I managed to face the tent flap and began to crawl out.

“Ouch. Not a morning person then.” Draven settled back down on the bedroll behind me.

“You’re bleeding,” I shot over my shoulder. “You’re wounded. When were you planning to tell me? Or had you even noticed?”

“I noticed. But it’s nothing. Just a scratch.” I heard him sigh, then heave himself up, and in a moment he had emerged from the tent. He stood up to his full height and I swallowed hard, wondering how on earth he had even managed to fit in the tent in the first place.

I realized he was inspecting me right back. His brows went up. “How are you feeling?” He stepped towards me and lifted the back of his hand to my forehead. “No fever. Good.”

I frowned, feeling like a child. “I presume that was why you encroached on my sleeping space.” I heard my tone. Ridiculously imperious.

“You were shaking so hard I thought you’d break a tooth,” he said, not looking the least apologetic. “You’re welcome, by the way.” He looked down at himself, then gave a little sniff.

Remembering my perspiration-soaked clothing, I quickly stood up. A wave of dizziness immediately washed over me. I took one step, then another, very slowly, until I’d assured myself I could do this. “I’m going to wash up.”

Grabbing a washcloth and clean clothes from the satchel outside my tent, I began to stalk into the treeline.

“Don’t go that way,” Draven called. “Not unless you want to step in something nasty.”

Something that used to be Whitehorn, in other words.

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