Page 133 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

My stomach drops with him, but I force myself to remain in place.

I’d feel it if he was injured, and a quick peek at his bond shows he’s fine.

“Rose will be summoned for the Hunt at sunset,” Drystan says. “She’ll be untouchable while she’s with us.”

Jaro turns to stare at the sun, still high in the sky, as if willing it to set already.

“Jaro,” I protest, finally drawing his attention back to me. “I want to know what’s so important about Ghislane screaming. Will she be okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” Drystan brushes aside my concerns and stalks to the edge of the platform.

Surprisingly, it’s Bree who answers me. “A banshee only screams if someone close to them is going to die.”

“And Ghislane is close to me?” I ask, doubtfully. “She’s only just met me.”

“She’s sworn to serve you,” he replies. “She screamed in your presence. You are also the one facing the most credible threat.”

“But surely she’s closer to a hundred other people in the castle,” I protest.

“She practically raised most of the children who were born here,” Jaro admits. “Which is a significant portion of your staff, guards, and knights.”

“Including you,” I whisper.

He nods. “But we’ve already established that it’s incredibly difficult for me to die.”

“Whereas you can do so endlessly,” Drystan grunts. “Get ready for the Hunt.”

He switched topics so quickly that it takes me a while to catch up.

“Is that a good idea?”

I sent all my maids to help Ghislane, so I don’t have anyone to help me get into the outfit that was left out for me, and given the complexity of the last one which I wore to that ball…

I’m doomed. I’ll probably be summoned to the Hunt naked.

At least that will give Drystan something to complain about.

“The Fomorian is still enjoying his lodgings,” Lore announces, blinking back onto the platform. “And I told Commander Fancy Pants to check the wall. He was already ordering his toy soldiers around, though.”

Jaro rolls his eyes and heads towards the stairs. “I’m going to check the gardens below, just to make sure.”

Without another word, he starts stripping off his clothes and stashing them at the base of the tree. Maybe I’m still in shock from the scream, but this time I don’t look away. Instead, I watch as inch after inch of perfect, tanned muscle is revealed.

Only when he starts unlacing the front of his trousers, uncovering that perfect v of muscle and finally his ludicrously sized credentials, do I look away.

But it’s not because I’m embarrassed.

No. The feeling twining my gut into knots is definitely not shame.

Thanks to Lore’s kisses, I’m no longer a stranger to desire.

And I definitely desire Jaro.

When I look back, he’s just finished shaking out the gloriously soft, sandy fur of his wolf form. I want to stroke him, but he doesn’t give me the chance to. He bounds down the stairs and disappears from sight.

Drystan looks back at me, frowning as though he can’t figure out why I haven’t rushed to follow his command.

“Dress,” he insists. “I know females take an inordinate amount of time with those things, and my huntsmen won’t wait for you to do your hair.”

He strides after Jaro without another word.

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