Page 139 of Kingdoms of Night

It wasn’t surprising. There really was something in the air—something like love. He wanted to feel it, to show it, to—

He turned toward the pink weeping willow Idalno had taken residence beneath. There she was beneath the enormous pink willow, its long branches trailing down, highlighted by the sunset’s orange-red beams. And as she sat there on a flat slab of slate, she undid the last of her braids.

Her voluminous hair surrounded her face, all crimped and shiny from its time in the numerous small braids. From the way she fussed with it, she must’ve disliked it, but she had never been more beautiful. Unbraided, her tresses fell to the middle of her back in a thick mass. The angle highlighted the elegant dimensions of her subtle waist and thick thighs.

His breaths tightened as his blood pulsed harder and faster, demanding that he take her.

Did she know how she looked right now?

Maybe the wolves had the right idea.

She’d been clear in the cave. And how could he blame her? Really? He knew from his sisters that many men were cruel and selfish when it came to relationships and lovemaking. Even the “good” ones could be heartless and selfish sometimes. He knew that just as much as he knew that Idalno was far beyond his reach. He could never be the life partner she deserved.

But there was one thing he could give her, if she would accept it. No lover had ever given her pleasure, made a night about her and her alone the way she deserved. And he wanted to be the one. Wanted it with every ounce of his blood. Wanted to make her come, make her scream, make her understand she mattered to him. Should always matter to a lover. Even just the thought of hearing her pleasure, feeling it, giving it to her excited him so much it hurt.

And maybe she would say no. If she did, that was all right. But he had to make the offer, or else he’d spend the rest of his life regretting it.

Staggering, he made his way to the tree she’d chosen. The edges of his vision grew hazier as he breathed in the light sweetness of the lavender poppies. Its freshness soothed him, lulling him to rest, but desire and need propelled him forward on uneven steps.

He brushed back one of the branches of the weeping willow, sending down a gentle flurry of pale pink blossoms. “Idalno.”

She faced him, muscles tight and lower lip trembling. Her eyes were large and dark. For a moment, their beauty stole his breath. If he didn’t know better, he’d have guessed she was waiting for him.

“Idalno,” he said again, hoarser this time. “I was a human. That’s true. And being a werewolf doesn’t change that in a way that matters to you, I don’t think. But it also doesn’t mean all I want is babies and someone to serve me. Now you said that there was no human who could make you feel good. And I—well, I want to show you that this one can, if you let me. I do care about your pleasure and your happiness. So will you?”

She tilted her head, and the second of silence made his chest about ready to explode.

“Will I what?” She held a strand of crimped hair between her fingers. With the way her hair caught and reflected the sunset’s glow, it was as if she herself emanated light and beauty.

He reached for her hand and pulled her close, resisting the urge to grab her close and kiss her until she was breathless.

“I want to—” His mouth fell once more to her lips. His mind emptied as he closed the distance and claimed her mouth with his.

Molten heat spread through him, and his mouth consumed hers with a fire that wanted only to burn and burn and burn. It wasn’t supposed to be this fast. He’d only intended a small kiss to start. Something gentle and light, teasing. Yet now, if he didn’t hold her as close as he could or cover every inch of her in the fiercest of kisses, he would die. Simple as that.

Right now, she was all that mattered, and her soft moan of delight was enough to make him go all night.

CHAPTERTWENTY

IDALNO

It had been a dull hope. That was all. A dull empty hope that maybe when she’d left him, he would follow. She wasn’t even entirely sure why she’d walked away. It had been more instinct than anything. The instinct that warned her against trusting anyone or ever opening up. But it had been so cold.

Now he held her, his tongue seducing hers as his hands slid up her back and into her freshly unbraided hair.

Yes.

Yes.

Her knees went weak as she clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck. He’d said he wanted to show her that, though other human men hadn’t made her feel good, he’d be able to. Was that all it was, meeting a challenge?

Even as she considered that real possibility, she couldn’t let go. Couldn’t even stand. The heat of his flesh filled her, urging her to cling to him.

These flowers were about to make her insane with need. But it wasn’t just the flowers. She’d wanted him before this. Only now had it become apparent. Now that she realized how much she wanted to make him happy. How much she craved his touch. Being apart for even a second was too much.

He kissed her with the frantic energy of a man losing time. His lips and tongue demanded as much as his hands insisted she remain. Her breath faded, and she gasped against him. His teeth caught her lower lip and tugged just enough to make her moan.

“This night,” he said hoarsely. “We have this night.”

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