A Curse of Shadows

I go to the closet and put on a new pair of shoes. After showering and changing earlier, I hung my wet clothes in the bathroom, but I think I might have ruined the flats when I fell in the hot spring.

Zipping up the boots, I straighten the black, knee-length skirt that I paired with a blue sweater and head for the door. Once in the hallway, I peek left before heading right toward the main staircase.

I get to the next floor of the castle and finally see someone. I smile and wave, still not used to people bowing to me. “Hello,” I say. “Do you know where I might find Cain?”

“Princess Isla,” she replies, her voice tinged with a deference that still feels foreign. “Cain should be in his office on the first floor. If you follow the stairs one more level down and turn right, he’ll be the second door on the left.”

“What’s your name?” I take in her hazel eyes, tawny complexion, and polite demeanor as I ask her name.

“My name is Desiree, Your Highness.” She nods, nearly bowing again as she answers and her feet begin to shift.

“Well, thank you, Desiree,” I tell her kindly. “I won’t keep you from your work. I just wanted to know whom I was thanking.”

She curtsies once more, then continues in the opposite direction I need to go. Resuming my way down the steps, I only get halfway to the next floor before my name is called.

I turn to find Asher taking the steps three at a time, wearing fresh clothes, looking every bit the king people call him. His navy-blue slacks are pressed with a perfect crease down the front of each leg. His matching suit coat is left open, revealing a white dress shirt layered with a white vest and blue sash, trimmed in silver. Medals are pinned to his left shoulder, at least seven or eight of them of varying colors.

When my gaze gets to his face, I find I’m not the only one staring intently. The urge to go to him, to wrap my arms around his neck, kissing him until I can’t feel my toes is nearly too much for me to handle. My legs shake as he stops in front of me and I have to look at the ground, waiting for him to address me.

“I’m headed into a meeting with my advisory council that I forgot about,” he says, which likely explains his fancier dress. “I saw you on my way. Is everything okay? I didn’t think you’d leave your room.”

“Grayson wasn’t in his and I got worried,” I admit. “I was going to find Cain so that he could help me figure out where he went. Did you learn anything about Elodee? Can we go get her when you’re done?”

He reaches for my wrist with one hand and lifts my chin with the other. His thumb strokes over my heated skin as I’m forced to look into sapphire eyes. “Why won’t you look at me?”

Even now, my eyes dart left, right, up, and down. This man no longer infuriates me. He makes me feel…unraveled, seen.

“I, uh, I’m just tired.” Tried and true excuse. Now, I just have to hope it works.

Asher glances around before stepping another few inches closer to me and lowering his voice. “You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

The pain in his voice guts me and I place a hand on his chest, shaking my head. “Far from it. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

The moment those words leave my mouth, I realize I’ve probably overshared, given my earlier thoughts about holding back with this man. Except Asher doesn’t seem to care as he trails his fingers up my arm, across my shoulder, not stopping until my face gently rests within his palm.

“Isla, I know we didn’t talk much about what it means to be a wolf shifter earlier and while everything you’ve seen so far may seem very human from the outside, we are still part animal,” he says, his eyes staring at my mouth as his tongue wets his own lips. “We have desires stronger than most, especially for our mates. Without your wolf being unlocked yet, which we will work on soon, the emotions you feel might seem out of place, but just like we can’t control when your memories start to return, we can’t control how strong or fast our connection may return.”

Mates? So, fiction did get something right and I was right before when I assumed that things were more intense between people here. I’m not sure if I find that comforting or not.

Asher takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes briefly. “I hope you know I will never push you for anything you’re not ready for, but I also won’t lie to you. I’ve waited five centuries for you. You are my life, my heart, my reason for breathing. I’m here for you in any capacity you’d like me to be, and I can’t apologize enough for treating you as anything less than priceless when you first arrived.”

As if his first romantic speech hadn’t been enough to be my undoing. Driven by an impulse I can’t control, I rise onto the balls of my feet, giving in to the desire to taste the truth of Asher’s words on his lips. My fingers, trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation, clutch at the lapels of his jacket. He closes the slight distance between us with a step, his intentions as clear as mine.

When our lips meet, it’s like a spark igniting into a blaze. My mouth parts, inviting a more profound connection, and our tongues explore in a tender, searching dance. The kiss deepens, fueled by a yearning that has waited centuries to be sated. The scent of cedar, somehow both wild and comforting, envelops me as Asher angles his head, devouring me. His hands find my waist, pulling me closer against him, his body a solid wall of warmth.

A low rumble vibrates from his chest, resonating against my own heart as he presses me gently against the cool, hard surface of the wall. The world narrows down to the space between us, every nerve ending alight with electric need. But just as the kiss promises to spiral into something unstoppable, he pulls back abruptly, a storm of emotion swirling in his eyes.

As he turns his face away, the sharp lines of his jaw are tense. “Gods, you have no idea how painful that was to stop,” he growls, his chest heaving just as much as mine, “but we shouldn’t do this here.”

My breath catches, the sudden loss of his warmth leaving me momentarily adrift as I glance around, seeing the shadow of someone running up the stairs. When I look back at Asher wearing his kingly wardrobe, I’m forced to remember that he’s not just any man, as much as I might wish otherwise.

“I’m sor—” I start to say, but he kisses me quickly, just once more.

“Don’t ever apologize for kissing me,” he says, words filled with an air of authority. “I’m not ashamed of loving you in front of the world. I more meant that we shouldn’t get too carried away right here.”

My fingers lightly touch my lips as I grin because he’s right. Not caring where we were, I had no plans of stopping.

“Right,” I say, smoothing my hands over his vest and sash. “And you have a meeting to get to.”