Page 15 of Hunted By the Fae Warden

I shift closer to the fire but still can’t get warm. Though I’m far from the castle, every now and then, I think I hear Mr. Marlow’s screams in the distance. But it must be my imagination because surely the man is dead by now.

I’m not certain how long I remain on the floor, but at some point, I fall asleep, and I rouse when the house is cast in evening shadows and the fire is burning low. At least I’m no longer trembling from a combination of cold and shock.

I let the cloak slide from my shoulders and rise to my feet, only to gasp when I spot a familiar figure seated on a chair that faces the hearth.

Kaiden.

CHAPTER 9

KAIDEN

Mira freezesin place and stares at me with wide eyes. But that surprise soon morphs into a blend of accusation and disappointment that rips out my insides. I know she witnessed today’s execution. Well, she might’ve turned around before the human male caught fire, but she was close enough to hear his screams. Close enough to smell his flesh burning.

Surely she must believe I’m a fiend, and perhaps I am. I didn’t feel pity for the human criminal. He’d killed two humans while attempting to harm my people, and he deserved to suffer a painful, fiery death.

Suddenly, Mira’s eyes fill with tears, and she blinks rapidly. Gods, the sight of her anguish breaks my soul. For a moment, I consider glamouring her to erase her memories of today, but I quickly dismiss the idea because it would be nothing more than a dirty trick, a tactic to improve her opinion of me. Stealing my fated mate’s memories is a line I’m not willing to cross. Even if it means she’ll never want me.

“Death by fire,” she whispers in a shaky tone.

“Death by fire,” I repeat while holding her gaze unblinkingly. “King John, too. It seemed fitting to hand him over to the former subjects he was supposed to protect.” I won’t apologize. Whether I like it or not, I’m the fucking warden and I must perform my job to the best of my abilities. Even if it means sentencing a criminal to a brutal death and standing on a balcony while I dispassionately watch the man burn, then handing over a fallen king to a bloodthirsty crowd.

Some of the wariness leaves her visage, and she suddenly appears thoughtful. Curious. “I’ve insulted you, more than once,” she says, “and you also caught me leaving the city walls. Technically, that makes me a criminal too. Why haven’t you arrested me? Why am I still alive?”

Why, indeed? I struggle for an answer. During my nine hundred plus years, I’ve killed humans, orcs, and even faefolk for less. Particularly in my days as a hotheaded youth. But the prospect of harming a hair on Mira’s head fills me with rage and agony. Sure as the sun will rise tomorrow morning, I would gut any soul who dared to hurt her. I would savage any individual who looked at her the wrong way.

“Well?” She crosses her arms over her chest and gives me a pointed look. Her eyes flare with challenge, making my cock go instantly hard.

Gods help me, but I love her defiance. Her bravery. Bathed in the waning firelight, she stands above me like a conquering empress, her long wavy hair loose around her shoulders. So fucking beautiful.

Finally, I rise to my feet. Against my better judgment, I close the distance between us and gently cup her face. “I would never hurt you, little nymph. Never.”

Her eyes glimmer with unshed tears and she blinks rapidly. She swallows hard and then draws in a shaky breath. I lean down and rest my forehead directly against hers, savoring theproximity of her. I love having her close, love touching her. When she’s with me, I know she’s safe. When I’m away from her, I nearly go mad from wondering what she’s doing and whether she’s in harm’s way.

“If I committed murder or blew up one of the castle outbuildings, would you order my death, Warden? Would you sentence me to burn?” Though her words are taunting, she utters them in a soft, calm voice, and her warm breath wafts against my face. I relish the intimacy of the moment.

I straighten and instantly become captivated by her lovely green eyes. I imagine she’s peering to the depths of my soul. I also imagine she’ll look away once she sees me for who I am. Yet her gaze doesn’t falter. Still cupping her face, I trail my thumbs over the softness of her cheeks. To my great pleasure, a quick, barely audible sigh of pleasure escapes her throat.

“No, Mira. I would not arrest you, nor would I condemn you to death. Not even if you burned the whole fucking kingdom down.” I place my lips at her ear. “If ever I must punish you for some transgression, little nymph, I will do so in private.”

A shiver rushes through her, and a second later, I detect the sweet pungency of her arousal in the air. Fucking gods, yes.

My shaft swells larger and harder in my pants, sensation zips up my thighs, and my scrotum draws up tight. Raw desire clutches me. But it’s more than carnal need. My heart also beats just for her, and my soul hums to be in her presence.

I try but fail to remember all the reasons I’ve used to resist claiming her. Before I realize what I’m doing, my lips are grazing her forehead. I place soft, leisurely kisses all over her face, until my mouth finally comes to rest at hers. She parts her lips, emits the tiniest whimper, and it’s the only invitation I need.

I kiss her soundly while clutching her face, basking in the taste and smell and feel of her. I press my hard appendage to her stomach and deepen the kiss as my magic creates a warmsummer breeze in the room, ruffling both her hair and mine. Insects chirp and buzz, and frogs play their familiar trilling song. For a brief time, it’s as though we’re standing in a Linnshire forest, two lovers swept up in our need for one another.

And gods, how I need her.

I need her like I need air to breath, and like I need ussha to power my magic. The kiss becomes more frantic as she responds to my tongue invading her mouth. She moans, wraps her arms around my waist, and gyrates her body against mine. Dizziness grips me as my length throbs harder.

At last, we break apart, though we remain close, touching one another as we pant breathlessly. Our eyes meet and my resolve to keep distance between us and ignore the pull of our mating bond weakens.

How can I resist sweet, brave, resilient Mira?

I’m about to kiss her again, when suddenly she pushes at my chest and escapes my hold. Her eyes grow wide, and she looks stricken. She gives her head a brief shake and glances around the room, as though just coming out of a trance.

“You’re the enemy,” she whispers, backing up a few more steps. “You’re the Warden of Trevos. You’re the reason my neighbors cross the street when they see me coming. You’re…” Her voice trails off and she peers at the door. “You must leave. Remember, we mustn’t spend time together. We already agreed on it.” Her voice wavers and she appears pained, as though she doesn’t agree with her own words. Not entirely. Perhaps it’s that she feels pulled in two different directions, just as I do.

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