Tempted by a Rogue Prince (31 page)

He didn’t flinch away when she risked brushing the backs of her fingers across his cheek.

“You should rest,” she murmured, lost in his eyes as they held hers, intense and focused, with a hungry edge that threatened to stir her desire again.

Now really wasn’t the time for that sort of thing. Both of them needed to process what had happened.

“Little Wild Rose must rest too,” he said as she drew her hand back to her chest and released his.

She nodded, hating lying to him but knowing he would grow upset if she told him she didn’t intend to sleep. She couldn’t. The nightmares were waiting and she wasn’t strong enough to face them right now.

She would spend the night watching over him instead, as he had watched over her in the cave, taking care of her.

He stretched and then curled up on his side on the grass before rolling onto his back. She cursed him for looking so tempting stretched out like that, his honed torso on display, and shuffled further away, closer to the fire.

She sat with it warming her side while she watched him drifting off to sleep, his hands resting on his stomach, fingers stained with earth and blood.

Part of her wanted to cling to her anger, but the rest said to let it go. Tomorrow was a new day and now she knew more about her mysterious dark elf prince. She was finally beginning to understand him.

The trouble was, it had only made her fall harder for him and deeper under his spell.

She didn’t want to love him.

She didn’t want to fall for him when she would only end up torn away from him.

It frightened her.

But she wasn’t alone. She had seen it in his eyes and felt it through their bond. Far beneath his scarred exterior, somewhere in the depths of his heart, he felt something for her too, something that wasn’t the product of the bond between them or born of his instinct to be a good mate.

And it frightened him too.

She sighed, prayed to mother earth for guidance as she realised it was already too late for her, and watched over her mate as he slept, wishing him good dreams.

She didn’t want to love him.

But she did.

V
ail came awake to the feel of Rosalind watching him and a deep sensation of peace, as if a terrible weight had been lifted from his soul and he had slept for days. He felt rested, more so than he had in as far back as he could remember. He lay on his back with his eyes closed, breathing in the scent of nature and the feel of it surrounding him, a tranquil oasis that Rosalind added to, perfecting it.

He remembered speaking with her after she had bravely returned to him, easing his anguish and his fear that she had left him forever and he would never see his ki’ara again. He recalled how upset and hurt she had been because of him and the notion that he only desired her because of their bond and the fact she was his fated female.

That notion would have made sense to him once, no more than days ago when they had been in the cells of the castle. He would have agreed with her, unable to believe that he could feel anything for a witch without it being forced on him, whether it was by sorcery or the instincts the presence of his mate awakened in him.

Now that notion seemed ridiculous to him.

He feared examining his feelings too closely, worried that the darkness he held within him would rage to the fore if he did because they were feelings for a witch, but he knew in the sliver of his heart that had remained good that he felt something for her.

Not because of a bond. Not because of a spell.

But because she was beautiful, and pure, and good, and she had shown him so much compassion and care, had sought to understand him and had weathered his mercurial moods.

She had stood by his side when he had been calm and rational, had bravely faced him when he had been little more than a beast and wanted her blood, and had knelt with him when he had been crushed by the pain he held locked deep within him.

And she had come back to him when he had needed her and had been gripped by fear that he had lost her forever because of all the mistakes he had made with her.

She had worked her way into his heart and because of her, the sliver of good in it was growing, beginning to drive back the darkness.

His mind drifted further back, to what they had done prior to him upsetting her and her almost leaving him.

His body flushed with heat at the memory of being inside her, feeling her clenching him, and hearing her breathless moans as she gave herself to him. His markings sparked to life in response, sweeping across his skin, making him shiver as their fire scalded him. He shuddered and bit back the growl that rumbled up his throat, a hungry snarl born of his desire to do it all over again, the pressing need to bend her over and be inside her once more, spending himself in a mutual release of passion.

That shocked him.

He had expected the darkness to seize him, twisting his memory of what he had done with Rosalind together with his memories of Kordula, turning them into a waking nightmare that would strip him of control and unleash the beast held locked within him.

He didn’t understand it but decided it had to be because he had been in control for a brief moment. A moment of sheer madness. As much as he desired to do it again, it was too great a risk to allow it to happen or to indulge in daydreams about it. He wasn’t sure he would be able to retain control next time, pulled back from the brink of hurting Rosalind by his deeper instinct to protect and please his mate.

Vail focused and shut down his body, used to mastering it after millennia of doing everything in his power to refuse Kordula.

He slowly opened his eyes and tilted his head towards Rosalind.

She sat on the green armchair she had created in the centre of the glade, her feet tucked near her bottom, with a lot of long pale toned leg on show. He knew she had transformed her clothes into ones that were more revealing to test him, and to spite him perhaps. He tried to move his eyes away from her legs, and his thoughts away from his desire to stroke them and slowly ease them apart, but it was impossible.

Only her lifting something to her mouth gave him to strength to stop staring at her legs.

He raised his eyes to her face and frowned as she nibbled on the lump of something she had made, her striking blue eyes fixed on the dying fire between them. The carcass he had cooked for her had been picked clean, only bones remaining, and he was glad that she had fed well, but it left him wondering why she needed the brown lump.

She lifted her eyes, settled them on him, and smiled softly. It didn’t chase the fatigue from her eyes that he could also sense in her through their link. She hadn’t rested. Why? Because of the nightmares? He wanted to ask her about them, and also about something she had said that troubled him.

She had mentioned dying several times now.

He didn’t like it. He didn’t want her to die and he would do all in his power to ensure it never happened. She belonged to him now and he wasn’t letting her go when he had only just found her. He needed her. She would tell him why she spoke of death as if it was coming for her and he would find a way to save her. First, she would tell him what she ate.

“What is that?” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep.

A flush of guilt crossed her face and she looked away. He frowned and narrowed his eyes on the brown cake, growing suspicious of it. He focused harder on her and their link, attempting to sense everything about her, pushing past the fatigue he could feel to deeper things.

At the deepest level he could reach, he sensed a flicker of something that disturbed him.

He turned his frown on her and bit out, “What is it?”

She shifted it in her hands, her gaze locked on it now. Avoiding him. Whatever it was, she felt she shouldn’t be eating it and feared what he would think.

“Tell me.” He wouldn’t let her get away with her silence and wouldn’t stop pressing until she told him what she ate so he could put his fears to rest.

She sighed and flicked a glance at him, and rattled off a list of herbs and mushrooms.

Many of which rang warning bells in his head.

The mixture was not meant to nourish her.

It was meant to numb her.

Why?

She stood before he could ask, brushed down the back of her black dress, and hurried towards the path to the lake.

“I’m going to wash.” She tossed the words over her shoulder and disappeared into the woods.

Vail tipped his head back and stared at the black sky, resisting the need to follow her and press her to tell him why she desired to numb herself and why she refused to sleep. What haunted her in the nightmares that she hated?

He sat up, pushed onto his feet and stretched, clasping his hands together and raising them above his head. He yawned and called his armour to him, sending his black trousers away as the black scales swept over his skin, covering him from boots to wrists.

Vail lowered his hands and looked around the glade, breathing in the beauty and the scent of nature, and absorbing the calming effect it had on him. As much as he desired to stay in this sanctuary forever, they needed to continue their trek now that they had rested. He had rested anyway. He didn’t think Rosalind would rest, no matter how many days they remained here. It was better they continued their journey. He doubted the Fifth King had given up his pursuit and if they lingered then the male’s warriors would find them.

His gaze roamed towards the path to the lake and his thoughts to Rosalind.

Why did Little Wild Rose use herbs and mushrooms to give herself relief?

He didn’t like it. He wanted to be the one to give her relief and give her peace of mind, even though he felt sure he lacked the qualifications to do that. What peace could he offer her when he could find none for himself?

He sighed, picked up his blue elven boots that Rosalind had worn, and focused to send them back to his rooms in the elf castle. Once they were gone from his hands, he set about disposing of the firewood and the evidence of their stay, trying to keep his mind away from thoughts that only troubled him.

He attempted to fix them on their next move, planning their journey. He couldn’t teleport through the woods when he couldn’t clearly see a landing site and he wasn’t willing to risk ending up in a tree or worse, not while Rosalind was with him. They would have to walk.

The trek through the woods towards the Third Realm would be long but being surrounded by nature would do him good, and her good too. Perhaps he could show her the things he could do, as she had asked, and that might distract her from whatever ailed her and build trust between them.

Once he had gained that trust, she might unburden her heart to him just as he had unburdened his to her.

Rosalind returned from the lake, the ends of her blonde hair damp and curling, wrecking his concentration as his mind immediately leaped to picturing her in the water, bare and beautiful.

He growled in response to his markings flaring and this time the darkness within him did rise, pushing him to bare his fangs at her. She meant to tempt him. She wanted to lure him under her spell again, bewitching him with desire, until he surrendered to it. It was the reason she had dressed so provocatively. It was all part of her plan. During their trek, he would be drawn to looking at her, studying her curves and remembering what they had done. Eventually, his need for her would overwhelm him and she would seize control of him then and attempt to touch him.

Once she had skin contact with him, she would enslave him.

Kordula had done such a thing.

She had used his desire against him.

Rosalind frowned at him, a flicker of hurt in her blue eyes. He turned away from her and began walking, needing to place some distance between them. He sensed her following and was thankful that she kept her distance, giving him time to master his darkness and drive it back into submission.

Little Wild Rose had no intention of enslaving him. He had seen her horror and felt her anger when he had told her the things that Kordula had done to him, and her guilt too. He had sensed something else in her as well, a powerful tenderness and affection, and a need to comfort him. She desired to help him, not enslave him.

He brushed his bare fingers over the grass that grew tall between the trees as he walked through it, following his deepest instincts, the ones that connected him to nature. The forest was vast, at least three days trek to the edge closest to the Third Realm. The thought of being surrounded by so much beauty for three days soothed him, giving him more control over his darker nature.

Rosalind walked a short distance behind him and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his focus away from her as they trekked, heading deep into the heart of the forest.

Her power was growing.

It was no longer a low-level hum of magic around him.

He felt it constantly now, surrounding him and smothering his connection with nature, stealing it away from him. He glanced back at her over his shoulder, scowling at how oblivious to his pain she seemed, her eyes dancing over the trees and flowers, fascination shining in them.

Vail focused harder on his bond to nature, using it to shut out the sense of magic in the air and his connection to Rosalind.

It became more difficult four hours into their trek, when the path widened and she moved forwards to walk beside him. His focus on nature shattered when she brushed against him and he turned on her, snarling and flashing his fangs as her magic spread over his armour and seeped down to his skin.

She immediately backed away. “Sorry.”

He rubbed his arm and glared at her.

She turned her profile to him and ate more of her infernal concoction.

Now she was numbing herself to him.

Vail snatched the brown lump from her.

“Give it back.” She reached for it and he held it high above his head. She huffed and planted her hands on her hips. “That’s just childish. Give it back, Vail.”

“No.” He shook his head, ignoring the fiery shiver that went through him on hearing his name leaving her sweet lips.