Page 27 of Merciless Is My Crown

11

TAVION

The moment the door closed behind Anaria, I collapsed onto the bed and dropped my head into my hands, shock turning to fear, swiftly becoming sick horror.

Too fucking close.

I’d…gods, I’d nearly bitten her. My wolf had risen to the surface like a rabid beast, drunk on her scent and mindless in his desire to claim her. I curled over, my stomach knotted up, trying not to vomit. I’d nearly ravaged her like a beast and what had she done?

Held me. Been kind to me. If I knew anything, it was that Anaria was far too good for me.

My lack of self-control aside, she’d almost found out my secret.

Anaria had no idea I was sick.

That something was…wrong.

Didn’t know about this infernal trembling that wouldn’t stop unless dulled by alcohol. About the weakness in my legs that made my feet go out from beneath me. About the blackouts, the dizziness.

The fucking visions I had, sometimes when I was still awake.

I straightened my shoulders, dragged my hands down my face, and stared at myself in the ruined mirror. I still looked the same.

Strong. Invulnerable.

Capable of protecting my wife from the dangers that waited for her out in the world. And I was damned well going to protect her. I closed my eyes, running my tongue around my mouth, picking up a hint of her sweet, delicious taste.

Gods, when she’d said yes last night…I’d lost my godsdamned mind.

I’d let my wolf take over to the point our first time wasn’t nearly as civilized as she deserved. No, I’d unleashed myself on her when our first pairing should have been gentle and sweet. I should have wooed her. Not claimed her like a fucking heathen.

I was such a selfish arsehole.

I just had to keep my dirty paws off Anaria for the next couple days and pretend I was a civilized male, not a wild animal trapped in Fae skin. I took another deep breath, but all I smelled was jasmine and amber, and one inhale of her sweetness gave me another raging hard-on.

Made me want to…I squeezed my eyes closed, then held my shaking hands out in front of me, flexing my swollen, stiff fingers.

I would escort my wife safely to Nightcairn.

Then I’d take her safely to the Barrens, slaughtering anything standing in our way. That was all that mattered now—her happiness, her welfare.

I dressed then pulled a heavy fur coat from the tangled closet that would be perfect for Anaria.

Chances were, she didn’t know how cold the passes were in the high country, not to mention the High Barrens. Just the idea of her being cold weakened my knees. I tossed the fur over my arm and headed outside, avoiding Zorander’s glare.

The commander could fuck right off.

“Anaria.” I hurried over to lift her onto her horse, threading my fingers together and giving her a foot up. Gods, she was so tiny she hardly weighed a thing, but pride tightened my chest at how confidently she gathered the reins, the horse settling beneath her touch.

“I’m tying this to your bedroll.” I fastened the leather belts around the coat, securing it behind her. The cool morning breeze pulled tendrils of silvery hair from her braid, and I tucked them behind her ear, blushing as I dragged my fingers down her cheek.

I should have had her ride with me.

Tucked her against me where she’d be safest.

“Please tell me that’s a coat.” She turned in the saddle and ran her fingers through the fur as I double-checked her bags and the fit of her saddle, Tristan cursing beneath his breath about none of us trusting him and how we could all go fuck ourselves.

“Once we leave Nightcairn, we’ll head into the mountains, and you’ll need something heavy to stay warm.”

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