Page 40 of Quest for her Knights
Having her sit between my legs, with barely any space between my chest and her back, is driving me insane. It’s all I can do to keep myself from growing hard and poking her in the ass. I don’t understand my reaction to her. She looks just like her—the cruel Princess of the North. I should hate her. But her personality couldn’t be more different, something that’s becoming more obvious every day.
I’ve been trying to keep my distance from her, to avoid getting caught up in conversation like the others have, but Ranger isreally testing my limits by having me ride with her today. She was fine in the carriage yesterday, since the roads were much smoother closer to the Carmichael estate. But out here, there isn’t much around, and the road is full of dips and holes.
“Oh, sorry,” Elora whispers when her back bumps into my chest, and she pulls herself forward so there’s an inch of space between us. She’s been doing this all day, and it’s driving me nuts. It must be hard for her to hold herself upright for so long, so I decide to take pity on her and gently slide my hand around to her stomach, pulling her back against me so there’s no space left between us.
“You can lean against me, Princess. I don’t bite,” I say quietly into her ear.
I hear her sharp intake of breath before she whispers, so softly I can barely hear her over the sound of my horse’s hooves, “That’s too bad.”
“What was that?” I ask, sure I misheard her.
“I said, thank you.”
“Hmm,” I hum, deciding not to push her. She clearly didn’t want me hearing that. But what did she mean? She wants me to bite her? I glance at the exposed skin of her neck and shoulder and wonder what she would do if I did bite her there.
What the fuck?
Where did that thought come from? I can admit she’s beautiful, but she’s completely off limits. My hand might be on her right now, but that’s as far as I can go. She’s royalty, and I’m aknight. Not only that, if she knew the truth about me, I doubt she'd be so relaxed right now.
“Draven, we’ll be stopping for the night soon. You okay?” Blaze asks quietly as he pulls his horse up beside mine.
“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?” I ask, glancing over at him.
He tries to hold in his smile, dipping his head toward Elora. “I wasn’t sure you’d be okay with the Princess sleeping on you again.”
“She’s asleep?” I ask in surprise, trying to lean forward to glimpse her face.
“Yep. I guess she feels comfortable with you.”
I grunt in reply, not wanting to admit how much that actually means to me. But the truth is, it warms something in my cold heart to know she trusts me like this, that I can bring her the same comfort as Blaze and Arrow do at night.
It doesn’t take us much longer to find an area to stop for the evening. When I pull my horse, Coal, to a stop, I watch Blaze dismount and Ranger and Arrow climb down from the front of the carriage. Unsure what to do with the sleeping woman on me, I watch them make camp until they finally notice I’m still on my horse.
“Need some help there?” Arrow asks with a smile.
“Yeah, can you take her?”
“My pleasure,” he says, his eyes heating as he takes her in. It won’t do him any good to get close to her, but he knowsthe arrangement, we’re all here to keep her safe while she finds husbands from the approved suitors.
He reaches up and I help shift her into his arms. He smiles down at her sleeping face and carries her to where Blaze is setting out blankets, laying her down gently. I jump off Coal and get him settled for the night.
Together, we set up camp and quickly get a fresh kill cooking on the fire, thanks to Arrow. As we sit around it, a whimper from a sleeping Elora makes us all glance her way. I wait with bated breath for her to move again, and she does. Her arms flail, and she cries out, “No!”
Arrow and Blaze rush to her side and gently wake her.
“Elora, sweetheart, wake up. You’re having a nightmare,” Arrow says softly, gently shaking her shoulder. Her eyes snap open, and she sits up, panting.
“Are you okay?” Blaze asks, his hand on her upper back as she takes deep breaths.
“Yeah... I had a nightmare.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.
“Not really. It was mostly a memory of the night at the inn.”
My fists clench at her words. That night was enough to givemenightmares, and I wasn’t even the one that was attacked. Is this poor girl suffering from those memories every time she closes her eyes?
I pull out a cloth and my dagger and start polishing it to distract myself. My weapons are already in perfect condition, I clean them every night, but it helps soothe me when I’m upset.
