Page 37 of Beneath His Robes

But just like the pain of my cage every time my lust swelled inside me…I couldn’t.

The buck was standing only yards away, frozen in time, its dark eyes locked on us. A perfect shot. A perfect opportunity. The way the snow clung to its fur, the way it held itself with such regal calm—everything about it screamed that it was time.

But I wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

Not when the air between us still simmered with something more, something forbidden. My hands trembled, and I could feel my heart racing, but it wasn’t from the hunt.

It was from him.

I heard Ronan shift beside me, his presence a constant reminder of everything I’d been running from. I was so close to giving in to him, to let myself fall into that space where there were no rules, no expectations—just us.

But that was not who I was anymore.

That was not who I was supposed to be.

God sent me this message, this warning.

“Take the shot,” Ronan murmured beside me, his voice low and commanding. “It’s yours.”

I fumbled, reaching down slowly to grab my rifle. My fingers were steady on the trigger, but my thoughts were a warring storm. The conflict raged inside me—part of me wanted to pull the trigger, to do what I was meant to do, to complete this hunt.

Another part of me wanted to turn, to take his face in my hands and kiss him again, to feel the heat between us grow, to lose myself in him and see what else he would taste of my sins.

I drew a breath and focused on the buck, willing my body to obey. The stillness of the forest was broken only by the soft crunch of snow under my boots, the weight of my hesitation hanging in the air like a thick fog.

“Are you going to pull the trigger, Elias,” Ronan whispered beside me. “ Or are you going to let it get away…”

His question hung heavy in the air—an unspoken meaning to the chosen syllables.

The buck stepped forward, its muscles tense, and I could see the glint of its antlers, the way it shifted its weight, preparing to bolt.

I couldn’t let it get away.

I had to do this.

For the hunt.

For the world I lived in and the walls I’d built.

With a practiced hand, I took off the safety, lined the wood against my shoulder, and breathed deeply, grounding myself in the steady line of the shot.

The moment stretched out, and Ronan’s eyes bore into my side. For a heartbeat, I thought I might not take it. I would let this creature go about its life and find another way to feed my family for the night.

But then, my body moved of its own accord. The tension was released, and the bullet flew, cutting through the crisp air with a loud whizz.

The buck cried out, the sound slicing the silence, and it collapsed onto the snow, its body going still, lifeless within seconds.

I stared at it, my chest heaving, and it felt like the whole world had stopped. The triumph of the hunt should have filled me with something—pride, satisfaction, something—but all I felt was emptiness.

I lowered my gun slowly, the weight of it dragging me back into the reality I couldn’t escape. Ronan was still standing there, close enough that I could feel the heat from his body, and yet there was a space between us now. The distance I had tried so hard to keep—between my duty and my heart—felt impossibly wide.

He turned to me then, his gaze meeting mine, and I saw The hurt in his eyes—the pain of my decision to follow the way of my life.

The snow was still falling, and the world felt painfully still for a moment. I could feel the weight of the past, the heaviness of everything we had said, pressed down on me, suffocating me.

I should have felt victorious.

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