The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(44)

Wyneth allowed herself a look at him.

Breckon had been polished. Lean. His hair had been short, and he was polite to a fault. Lord Lief Alvi was a contrast to all of that. A rogue. Wild waves of blond hair rested on his shoulders. A vest of fur fitted against his massive chest, his shoulders and arms of muscle jutting out.

It felt wrong, wrong, to look upon another man this way. Especially a man who was in the running for her cousin’s hand in marriage. Surely she was losing her mind.

“I must go.”

In a move like a dance, Wyneth turned away, only to feel the warmth of his grip around her wrist, spinning her back around, pulling her with a silent command right into that solid chest and those strong arms she’d just been admiring. Without a single word, Lord Alvi took Wyneth’s mouth with his own, practically lifting her off her feet as his hands circled her waist and tugged her body against his.

She heard herself make a noise of surprise which morphed into moan at the closeness and warmth, the scent of clean masculinity. For a long moment she shut off her mind, letting her senses have full control. Lief’s hunger for her lips was like nothing she’d experienced before. He was not careful, nor did he bother with niceties as she was accustomed to. He took complete ownership, crushing her body to his in a way that made her long for more.

All at once, the two names closest to her heart were shouted inside her mind.

Breckon! Aerity!

Lady Wyneth pushed against his wide chest, and he let her go. She struggled for air. He wiped the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smiled.

“You—we can never do that again,” Wyneth said. Her voice was a shaky jumble of want and need and regret.

“Why not?” His head cocked in that curious way again.

“Why not?” she repeated back at him in disbelief.

“I’ve wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you.”

Wyneth’s blood raced at the flattery of hearing that from a man like him. But it wasn’t as simple as he was making it out to be. “I only just finished telling you I’ve lost the man I was to marry. My heart . . . still aches.”

He appeared crestfallen. “I’m sorry, Lady Wyneth. I thought it might help.”

Oh, the logic of a man, Wyneth thought. “What’s more, Lord Alvi, if you kill the beast you’ll be granted the hand of my cousin. My best friend!”

Wyneth was still in shock that he’d kissed her, this man she scarcely knew, and that she’d been so completely willing. Being so near him, she felt the lingering lust burning under her skin, and the churn of guilt in her gut. It was the worst kind of situation. Couldn’t he see that?

Apparently not, based on his easy smile. “Life is for living, Lady Wyneth. You needn’t feel guilty or worried. Fate will intervene to make things right, when necessary. I hope to see you this evening before the hunt.” He brought a massive hand to her hair and let his palm and fingers stroke a lone curl.

Her chest was still heaving as he walked away.

Blasted “fate.” Outlandish notions.

Wyneth grasped her gray skirts and marched back to the castle through crunching leaves and dry pine needles, overrun by a maelstrom of thoughts. She was quite certain that kissing one of her cousin’s suitors mere months after the death of her fiancé was not fate. It was simply one man acting on an inappropriate urge. She was ashamed that her first reaction had been to welcome his touch instead of thwarting it.

She felt utterly alone. Wyneth could never tell Aerity. She could never tell anyone.

As she burst into the castle, a gust of wind at her back, she could still feel Lord Lief Alvi’s firm lips against hers. She avoided the eyes of the guards as she passed, bringing a hand to her mouth to hold on to the feel of Lief’s kiss for a moment longer.

Just a moment more, and then she’d put him from her mind.











Chapter


20


After her studies, Aerity donned her leotard and a soft pullover tunic. Another day had passed, and the beast was still at large. The only good thing to happen was that the king was feeling a bit more comfortable about letting his children out of the castle during daylight to places other than just the commons. The hunters’ presence seemed to make everyone feel safer. The beast had never attacked or been seen during the day, and it hadn’t set foot on royal lands since the night it took Breckon’s life.

At least not that they knew.

Vixie had sprinted from the doors toward the stables, her guards racing to keep up. Donubhan and several of their young cousins were accompanied by maids and guards down to the royal beach where they could dig for sandcrabs and enjoy the autumn sun a bit before winter began to show its face.

Flanked by several guards, Aerity headed the back way to the side of the castle, avoiding the entrance of the commons. The giant oak tree loomed, awaiting her company, with magenta silks hanging from a high, thick branch. The guards kept their distance, making a square around the tree. She hardly registered their quiet presence anymore. She gave the silks a tug to be sure everything was sturdy before taking off her tunic and dropping it to the ground.

This was Aerity’s favorite silk. Rather than two separate strands, this one was connected, making a U at the bottom like a hammock. Aerity held the silks up high and lifted her knees, sliding her pointed feet through the gap, feeling the burn of her abdominal muscles. She hung upside down a moment by her knees, letting the tips of her hair drag the ground, twisting side to side to warm up and stretch. Then she lifted herself until she was sitting in the silks, like a swing.