Page 68 of Apples Dipped in Gold

“I’m not opposed to having you remain naked,” I said, glancing at the fox, who was curled into a ball facing away from us. “But you might be more comfortable if you wear this.”

I retrieved the blanket, a little disappointed when she decided to slip into the long shirt, even though I was the one who suggested it. Still, there was something so fucking beautiful about the way she looked in my clothes. It made me feel like she really was mine.

“Would you like me to spread the blanket?” she asked, her voice quiet.

I wondered if she was asking because I only had one hand or because I had been staring at her.

“I can do it,” I said, shaking it out before letting it rest on the ground. I walked around to pull it flat. “I can do most things. Sometimes it just takes a little more time.”

“I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“I know,” I said quickly. I met her gaze and held out my hand. She took it, and I helped her sit, though she didn’t need it. She drew her knees to her chest, hugging them close. It felt like a barrier, and I wondered if she felt shy now and a little afraid of what the rest of the night might bring.

I knelt before her.

“You have never…lain with another before?” I asked.

She shook her head.

“We do not have to do anything,” I said. “I would be content to hold you until morning.”

That was the most honorable thing I could do—the most right considering our circumstances.

“Maybe that is where we start,” she said.

I nodded and then stretched out on my back while she lay on her side. Her head was on my chest, her handon my stomach. If she grew bold and started to explore, she would find that I was aroused, my cock hard and heavy against my stomach. I doubted that would change between now and morning—or for the rest of this trip.

She was still to start, but then her fingers began to trace the faint scars on my skin.

“You never said why you went in search of the dullahan,” she said.

I never said it because I dreaded telling her, but in this moment, I felt like a liar, so I told her the truth.

“I sought them out because I thought I could forget you.”

She was quiet, her fingers slowly stopping their soft caress. I missed it.

“Am I so horrible to think about?” she asked.

“I wasn’t trying to forget you because you were horrible,” I said. “You are all I have thought about for the last seven years. I could not figure out where I went wrong, how I had managed to make you hate me so much that you would use my own knife against me. I thought it was part of the curse.”

“I never hated you,” she whispered.

I could tell she was close to crying again.

“My brothers grew suspicious, thinking my work seemed too easy, and followed me. They saw you give me the knife. They confronted me at the moor and forced me to give it to them. If I had known what Jackal intended…”

“I should have known it was nothing you were capable of,” I said. “At the time, it made sense. I did not think anyone was capable of loving me.”

She was quiet, but then she shifted onto her elbow and looked down at me.

“This cannot be real,” she said. “I must have stumbled into a fairy ring when I ran from the carriage in the woods.”

It was strange to hear her say what I was thinking.

“I can assure you, beloved, this is all very real,” I said. I held her face in one hand, caressing her cheek. “The fae are too restless to maintain an illusion this long.”

“Every day after you left was unbearable,” she said.

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