Page 101 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
Understanding crashed into her, and she whimpered. She knew that voice, recognized it in the deepest part of her soul as belonging to her.Atlas.He was the one who would drag her from the oblivion of her agonizing slumber, and it was not some imaginary rope she’d tugged upon in the hopes of waking, but the mating bond tying her to him. The one she’d denied.
Her heart splintered but she ignored it, breathing in the scent of fresh cedar, delicious neroli, and tempting spice. Atlas’s scent. She clung to it, to him. He was her lifeline, her anchor, and she let him carry her back through the fog of endlessness to where she belonged…in his arms.
“Atlas,” she murmured, her lashes fluttering slowly as she tried to open her eyes, but it was as though they’d been sealed shut for centuries.
“Right here.” His palm coasted over her bare shoulder.
Everinne sighed, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest where her head was resting, the solid wall of his abdomen where her fingers carefully explored the firm ridges. Sweet stars, he was exquisite, all chiseled muscle and overpowering strength, every inch of him the most decadent form of temptation. Ofcourse, she would never tell him as much. The last thing she wanted to do was boost his already overinflated ego.
Atlas chuckled darkly, the rumble of it melting into her bones. “Too late for that, Wildheart.”
This time, her eyes popped open.
Her gaze drifted around the room, taking note of the way late afternoon sunlight spilled in through the open patio doors in shafts of gold. Just beyond them was a pool, the very same one she’d accidentally fallen into two nights prior. Which meant she’d somehow found her way into Atlas’s bed, even though she’d sworn to herself she’d stay away. Her cheek was pressed against his soft shirt, her arms wrapped around his body, and given the cool sensation of silk against her bare skin, she already knew what she would find.
Everinne glanced down.
Her breasts were nestled against his waist, and she had one leg thrown over the top of his, the stretch of lace skimming her thigh just visible beneath the wrinkled sheets. Atlas, however, was fully clothed.
She lurched upright, instantly regretting the action. Her mind swam, her temples pounded against the abrupt movement, and a wave of nausea crawled from her stomach to the back of her throat. She grasped the silk bed linens with one hand, trying to keep the dizziness at bay, while her other hand reached blindly, catching Atlas’s thigh. Her nails sank into the fabric of his pants as she tried to keep from fainting.
“Atlas.” Her voice was low and raspy. “I don’t feel very well.”
“Don’t move.” He reached over and grabbed a cup of something off the nightstand. Easing one arm around her to keep her stable, he lifted the cup to her lips. “Drink this, you’ll feel better.”
She sniffed the muddled contents and bit back on the urge to gag. The stench was unbearable, it reminded her of stale water and dried mud. “It smells horrid.”
“I know.” He tilted it closer, his hand sliding to her hip to keep her in place. “But trust me, you need it.”
Everinne met his pleading gaze and winced, swallowing down the vile concoction. It tasted as rancid as it looked, like someone had taken the slimy film of a bog and mixed it with putrid herbs, then labeled it as a remedy. As much as she hated to admit it, already the ache in her head was easing, and muscles and bones no longer felt as though they’d been buried beneath the weight of a boulder.
“Water, please,” she croaked. “If you have some.”
He replaced the empty cup on the nightstand, then grabbed a tall glass filled with what she prayed was actual water and not some clear healing potion. He offered it to her and she took a hesitant sip.
The refreshing taste of plain water with a hint of mint coated her tongue, and she gulped the rest of it down.
“Easy.” Atlas pried the glass from her hands and set it aside. “You don’t want to upset your stomach any further.”
She nodded to appease him, but the water had cooled her throat and her mouth no longer felt like parchment drenched in paste. She debated on climbing out of bed to put some distance between them, but she didn’t quite trust her legs yet to hold her up. There was a very good chance her knees would give out and she’d end up on the floor, in a far worse predicament than the one she already found herself in.
Everinne dared a glance at Atlas.
He was sitting up in the bed, his legs straddling either side of her, a few loose waves falling over one eye. His fingers tempted their luck, grazing over her hip in slow, languid movements. He stared at her in the silence, their hearts fused to the samerhythm, and when a gust of winter wind swept through the room, she couldn’t keep herself from shivering. Goosebumps flooded her skin, and her nipples hardened to tiny peaks, drawing his attention. Despite the chill, she caught fire beneath the heat of lust banking in his gaze.
At least she knew that even when she was on the brink of death, he still found her desirable.
His eyes darkened, the green melding into the gold like a sunset sinking beyond an evergreen forest. “I will always desire you.”
She squirmed then shifted, tucking her legs under her so she sat upon her knees, and wrapped her arms around her chest. Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip, and he tracked the movement. But he was an expert at reading body language, it was ingrained in him, a product of his sexual magic. So, Atlas eased back against the mound of pillows, planting his hands on his thighs as though purposefully trying to keep himself from touching her.
Keeping one hand clutched to her chest, Everinne raked a hand through her messy, tangled hair, so the strands fell haphazardly around her shoulders. “Where are my clothes?”
He arched a brow. “That’s your first question?”
“Yes.” She mimicked his expression. “Considering I’m naked in your bed, with only my stockings on, I think my question is fair enough.”
Atlas’s jaw popped and he tucked his hands behind his head, his look of bemusement morphing into hardened disdain. “Are you insinuating something, Everinne?”
