Feral Hearts

71

For the rest of the day and well into the evening, Lukas planned their course of action with the same efficiency she’d come to expect and cherish. But it didn’t feel comforting now—not when the danger was so great, and everything could change in a matter of minutes.

“You should be sleeping,” Lukas said, his deep voice rumbling across the bed and along her skin.

“The bed’s lonely without you,” Victoria said. “I hate this feeling.”

His low laugh echoed in the near-dark of the room. She’d rigged the door and window to alert them to any intruder, but with the ruckus coming from the seedy tavern downstairs, they would have a hard time hearing anyone in the hall.

“Well, I'm here now.”

The bed was much smaller than hers—small enough that her shoulder brushed his as she turned over. She found him already facing her, his eyes gleaming in the dark. “What did I do to deserve you, my queen?”

“I should be the one to ask that question.”

“If anything ever happened to you, Lukas—”

“Don’t,” he breathed. “Don’t even say it. I promise to stay by your side forever, Victoria.”

He lifted a hand—hesitated, and then brushed back a strand of hair that had fallen across her face. His callused fingers scraped against her cheekbone, then caressed the shell of her ear.

There was nothing soft or tender in his face. Only a predator’s glittering gaze. “If you would let me, then I would make sure that I'll do my best to protect you,” he said, “I'll do my best to remind you and to prove you wrong about every negative thought that just went through your head.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He gave her a sly smile that made thinking impossible. Exactly what he wanted—to distract her from the horrors of tomorrow.

“I’ll even let you decide how I tell you: with words”—his eyes flicked once to her mouth—“or with my teeth and tongue.”

A thrill went through her blood, pooling in her core. Not fair—not fair at all to tease her like that. “I like that, but too bad I can't let you do that right now.” she said, daring to slide a hand over his bare pectoral, then up to his shoulder. She marveled at the strength beneath her palm. He shuddered, but his hands remained at his sides, clenched and white knuckled. “It’s too bad that I'm so exhausted that all I want to do right now is to sleep beside you.”

She gently scraped her nails across his collarbone, marking him, claiming him, before leaning in to press her mouth to the hollow of his throat. His skin was so smooth, so invitingly warm.

“Victoria,” he groaned.

Her toes curled at the roughness in his voice. “Too bad,” she murmured against his neck. He growled, and she chuckled quietly as she rolled back over and closed her eyes, her breathing easier than it had been moments before. She’d get through tomorrow, regardless of what happened. She wasn’t alone—not with him, and not with Lukas, also beside her.

She was smiling when the mattress shifted, steady footsteps padded toward the dresser, and the sounds of splashing filled the room as Lukas dunked the pitcher of cold water over himself.

Lukas wasn't in his bed when she awoke, and Victoria thanked the goddess for another day of being alive.

After praying, she looked down at the other side of the bed. Feeling disappointed because she didn't wake up with her mate's warm embrace.

His side of the bed was cold enough that she knew he'd left hours before--probably to fulfill his duties as a king to his people.

She lay there for a while, content to daydream, to imagine a time when they could have whole, uninterrupted days with each other. When her stomach started growling, she decided it was a sign that she should drag herself out of bed. She'd taken to leaving some clothes in his room, so she bathed and dressed before returning to the chambers.