Page 25 of The Warlord's Wildflower
“A loyal one,” I say with a half-smile.
He shakes his head, and there’s no anger, only the unspoken bond of warriors.
I spot Garron crossing the training grounds with two of his own warriors flanking him, their hooves kicking up dust from the hard-packed earth.
“So. The man who folds at insect bites is now mated to Havenmoor’s meekest heifer,” he says as he reaches us.
Oh, hells no.
Maeve’s cheeks flush pink, but she tilts her chin up, those big, green eyes narrowing. “Annie’skind,” she mutters under her breath, “Not meek.”
I turn, grinning at him. “Love works in mysterious ways, Commander.”
Garron’s gaze flicks to Dakar, then back to me. “I don’t recall a proper claiming rite.”
My tail flicks.Oh, so we’re doing this?“Apologies, Sir. Should I have invited you to watch?”
One of the Bulls starts choking from behind me. Maeve pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Fenric.” Dakar’s amber eyes narrow.Behave, that look says,or I will break your legs.
Garron’s gaze flicks between us, smug. “YourCaptainhas a smart mouth.”
“And yet,” Dakar says, voice dry as sun-baked leather, “somehow, he still has all his teeth.”
The warriors behind us snort. One of them muffles a laugh into his fist.
Garron’s lip curls. “I’ll be watching you.”
“I’ll try to be worth the view.” I wink and stride past him toward the ring, and that’s when I catch her scent.
Annie.
Wildflowers and fresh cream, sweet enough to make my cock ache…and that’s the problem, isn’t it? The most dangerous part of this charade isn’t the lies, the politics, or even Garron’s thinly veiled threats.
It’s that somewhere between teasing her, tasting her, and claiming that she’s mine…
I realize I was never actually pretending.
Chapter Fifteen
Annie
The morning sun is obnoxiously bright. It pours over the stronghold like it knows exactly what I’ve been up to, and it’s absolutely thrilled to shine a spotlight on my shame. I wince against it, clutching the violet silk of my dress tighter around me as I ease out of Fenric’s chambers with all the stealth of a mouse skittering from the kitchen.
My bare feet are quiet on the stone floor, but my heart? Not so much. It thuds wildly in my chest, as though it might suddenly start shouting the truth if I don’t hurry. Like at any moment, it’ll scream,“ATTENTION! ANNIE SPENT THE NIGHT IN THE CAPTAIN’S BED AND NOW SHE’S PANICKING!”
Oh, sweet merciful heavens.
The remaining ribbon in my hair is half-undone, dangling pathetically like it, too, is scandalized by last night’s events. My dress is wrinkled from where I’d curled up beside him.Beside him. My skin is still tingling at the points his calloused fingers had traced patterns I’d never imagined could feel so… so…
I shouldn’t have stayed. My cheeks are still burning just thinking about it.
A breeze catches my skirt as I dart across the courtyard, and I swear it’s laughing at me. I duck behind hedges, pressmyself against walls, and generally behave like a woman who’s committed treason rather than one who just… forgot to go home.
A guard glances my way and smirks.
I want to dissolve into the wind.
