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He stared at me for a moment. “That it has.”
I swallowed. “I think I . . . I need to return to the manor.”
Lord Thorne was silent, watching me closely. Intently.
Heart thumping, I took another step back. “I appreciate that you made sure I . . . I didn’t die back there and, um, that you watched over me.”
His head straightened. “So, youareappreciative of the aid you didn’t ask for?”
“Of course— ” I cut myself off, seeing the teasing lift of his lips. “You still didn’t have to.”
“I know.”
I held his stare for a moment, then nodded. “Good night,” I whispered.
I started to turn away.
“Na’laa?”
I twisted toward him, gasping as I jerked back, bumping into a nearby wisteria. Lord Thorne stood less than a foot before me, the trailing blossoms behind him still, completely undisturbed. I hadn’t even heard him move. He towered over me in the darkness of the tree, blocking out all traces of moonlight. My hands fell to my sides, palms pressing against the rough bark.
“There is something I must ask of you before you go,” he said.
The shallow breath I took was full of his woodsy, soft scent. What was that scent? I jolted at the unexpected touch of his hands on my shoulders. “What?”
“What you saw here tonight?” His hands coasted down my arms. The touch was light, but immediately sent my pulse racing. He reached my wrists. “With Muriel and Nathaniel? Do not speak of it.”
I shivered as his hands slid to my hips. The nightgown was no barrier against the warmth of his palms. His touch . . . it felt branding. “O-Of course.”
“To anyone,” he insisted, his hands leaving my hips and going to the halves of my robe. I sucked in a heady gasp of air as his knuckles brushed the curve of my stomach. He folded the robe closed, then found the sash.
I held my breath as he tied the sash just below my breasts. “I won’t.”
Remaining completely still as he finished with the sash, I felt my pulse pound as he then took ahold of my wrist and lifted it to his mouth. I couldn’t move. It wasn’t fear or distress that held me in place, and it should be.
Yet I wasn’t afraid.
It was . . . was an emotion I couldn’t name or describe as he turned my hand over, pressing his lips to the center of my palm, just as he had done the night before. The feel of his lips against my skin was a shock to the senses. They were soft and gentle, yet firm and unyielding, and when he lowered my hand, his breath traced the curve of my cheek until our mouths were mere inches apart.
Was he going to kiss me?
For one chaotic moment, an array of sensations assailed me— disbelief and wanting, panic and yearning. My heart hammered in confusion. I didn’t want to be kissed by a Hyhborn lord, especially one who currently felt vaguely threatening.
But I didn’t turn my head away when his breath danced over my lips. I knew in that moment what I’d discovered several times throughout my life: there had to be something seriously wrong with me. My eyes started to drift shut—
A cool wind kissed the nape of my neck.
Lord Thorne stilled.
Eyes opening, I felt that chill travel across my body. The night birds no longer sang. The entire garden was eerily silent, and as I glanced around, I saw that even thesolsseemed to have abandoned the area as that earlier feeling returned— the icy thickening of the air.
“Return to your home.” Lord Thorne’s voice was cooler and harder, falling against my skin like frozen rain. “Do so quickly,na’laa.There are things moving in the garden now that will find your flesh as tasty as I find it lovely.”
My stomach lurched. “Will you be okay?”
Lord Thorne stilled, and I supposed my question had rendered him speechless. It had also shocked me. Why would I be worried when I’d seen him incinerate another Hyhborn? Or why would I even care if he was okay? Because he had helped Grady and me once before? It felt like more than that, though.
“Of course,” he promised. “You need to hurry.” His hand firmed against my neck, then he let go.
