The Bride Tournament (Hexed Hearts Book 1)(64)

The door clicked closed.

Ellie gaped.

“Don’t worry, you have plenty of money left.”

“I get money?”

“To marry me? Oh, heck yes. It’s a big job, traipsing after the crown prince.” Gerard laughed.

She rolled her eyes and blew a raspberry. “Fruitcake. I may demand a raise.”

He choked on his laugh. “Milady,” he gestured to the apex of his thighs, “I assure you, one is most definitely forthcoming.”

A hot blush swept along her face. “That is not what I meant!”

“Don’t care.” Gerard shrugged. “Come sit. I have a gift.”

“A real one this time?” She raised a brow.

He winked. “Of course.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and Gerard joined her, a slender square box in his large hands.

She eyed the professionally wrapped package resting on the quilted bedspread. A lacy bow wound around the square parcel. “Beautiful wrap job.”

He pushed the present closer to her knee. He positively vibrated with excitement. “I can take no credit for that. Lady at the shop did it up nice, no?”

She nodded. The package was surprisingly light in her hand. “You know, dear, I love you already, you don’t have to buy me gifts to woo me.”

“A husband should always woo his wife.” The serious expression on Gerard’s face silenced Ellie’s sardonic laugh.

Heart beating fast, she slid the ribbon off the box and opened the gift. “Oh!”

Inside rested the softest pair of stockings she’d ever felt.

“Put them on.”

Ellie obliged. The silk rubbed against her legs. She shivered. Damn this feels so good. Gerard saw the move and winked. As quick as a blink, desire pooled. Hot, needy, insistent.

“You’ll never have to wear practical wool again—well, not unless you want to.” Gerard’s warm, calloused hand gripped her knee. The heat and roughness of him soaked through the thin barrier of silk.

“Told you that silk stockings were an investment.”

“An investment in your love life, perhaps.” Ellie winked and stretched, groaning at her sore muscles from last night’s sultry shenanigans.

“What say you? How’s princess-hood treating you?” Gerard scooted back and leaned against the carved headboard, arms behind his head, broad shoulders flexing.

Ellie eyed her prize: her husband, her love, her freedom.

“It’s good to be a princess.”





Epilogue.

Above the sleeping forest, a lone crow sailed on a fading breeze. Thick black wings flapped without a sound as it dipped low. The bird landed on the gnarled tip of a fir tree. Needles rustled and settled.

Caught in the crow’s beak hung a simple pewter ring; a fading crystal-blue light pulsed like blood at the center.

The bird flipped its head back and swallowed the gem, silver chain sliding into its gullet first. Greedy, the animal crowed its triumph and choked on the thick ring. Gasping and struggling, the bird flailed on the weaving branch.

The metal and stone held fast, killing the bird.

Stiff in the surprise of death, the crow tumbled from the high perch. Limbs bowed and snapped as the falling parcel gained speed. The ancient tree twitched as feather and hollow bone snagged against rough bark.

An abandoned foxhole gaped at the base of the trunk, mouth wide in anticipation of the offering.

With a last giving shudder, the fir released its prey and the crow’s carcass funneled into the dirt-lined slit.

The first cold chill of winter traveled on a northern breeze, dead grass and broken leaves frosted a brilliant white like the spreading of a bride’s train. Snow soon followed and ice froze over the murky indent of the foxhole.

The pendant lay forgotten.

For now.