He was grinning when I allowed myself to peer up at him, to touch his waist. I told myself it was to steady my feet over the ground that had begun to shake beneath them. I already knew I’d tell myself some dangerous things just to touch this peculiar yet intoxicating warrior.

I would tell myself that I was allowed to, as I would never have been here in the first place if it weren’t for Rorn’s betrayal. That I could take what I wanted if it meant making my altered—ruined—future more bearable to face.

I would tell myself that I deserved to feel good, to feel alive after days spent with nothing but breath-robbing misery.

Scythe twitched beneath the gentle brush of my fingers over his lower back. I tilted my chin with the help of his fingers.

Another kiss, softer than any I’d had before, instantly warmed the coldest parts of me. The wolf aligned our lips, breathed me in, pressed, then rubbed his silken mouth side to side over mine. Our noses bumped, the finger under my chin stroking so tenderly, a flood of heat spread right through me and straight to my core.

Scenting what he’d done, he smiled against my mouth. “Stay. Just one more night.”

I kissed him and dragged my teeth over his bottom lip, the smooth, slight thickness of his mouth too addictive. “Just one?”

“Forever would be ideal, but we’ll work our way up to that.”

“I…” My heart skidded to a halt, then roared, and I broke away before he could sense what he’d done. I cleared my throat, dropped the bedsheet to the floor, and grabbed the towel. “Let me ponder it while I bathe.”

His deep voice held a hint of laughter as his gaze burned my skin from behind. “Whatever you need, wildflower.”

The bathing room was tiny and reminiscent of the one we’d had growing up in the cottage. The tub was big enough for a male but, unlike his bed, most certainly not a beast. A privy sat in the corner with a small basin on a cracked porcelain stand between it and the tub.

Rather than recoil at the mildewed and chipped tiles on the wall, the shallow space I hadn’t thought I’d ever find myself inside of again, a vintage part of me awoke with a smile, and I climbed into the tub.

My fingers skipped over the rusted rim toward the cracked, cream tiles, leaving damp trails behind. Opulence was divine, there was no doubt about it, but there was something to be said for the quainter things in this eternally dramatic life.

When I returned, Scythe was seated on the end of the bed, my gown draped across his lap.