The heat of his hand on my face made my heart flutter, my breathing ragged, and I realized we were utterly alone. His eyes dropped to my lips, and then his grip tightened and he pushed me roughly away from him.
“You are a witch,” he said angrily. “You bespell me every time I see you, for I have this asinine desire to kiss you… again.”
“That was never my intention. I tried to obey you, but I can’t live behind a mask for the rest of my life.”
“Why not? I do. It’s what protects me from those I hate.” His handsome face turned cruel, and I moved away from him, putting my back to the wall. He laughed. “Oh, now you run away?”
“Did you try to kill me?” I asked suspiciously.
“What?” He was obviously shocked by my accusation.
I swallowed and looked away, trying to keep my tears at bay, hiding my insecurity behind bitterness. “I overheard your discussion with your father in the library. He told you to take care of the inconvenience. You took me into town with your guards and left me, and then someone tried to murder me in the woods. It sounds to me like an elaborate assassination plan if I ever heard one.”
“No, I do not know who shot you.” Xander swallowed and glanced away, but I could read it on his face.
“You lie,” I accused angrily.
His eyes flashed as he gripped my shoulder. “I’m not.”
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked. “Instead of heading back to the house.”
“Because it was dark and closer than the manor.”
“Which means if you kill me, no one will find my body,” I surmised.
“Why are you so obsessed with the idea that I’m going to kill you?”
“Aren’t you?” I was pushing his buttons, trying to rile him up. It was easier to deal with him when he was angry. The other side, his softer side, where he gave me warm looks and his hands grazed my skin, drove me crazy. That was the side of Xander I feared the most.
“If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead already,” he said simply. “Plus, why bother when we swore a blood oath that as soon as you save my kingdom, you leave. If I kill you, you can’t help. And after all, you saved my mother when you could have let her die. You helped save a village from a troll. I’m inclined to believe you will try and save my kingdom.” Xander crossed the room and sat on the bed next to me. His leg pressed into my thigh, and his nearness made my cheeks burn.
“I… I think we should leave.” The pain from my shoulder was driving me batty, making my thoughts not very coherent. I would probably regret everything I was about to say if we continued talking.
Feeling brave, I slid to the edge of the bed, stood up, and tried to walk to the door, but the floor betrayed me again by moving. I wasn’t going to make it, felt myself falling.
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Xander growled as he caught me and carried me back to the bed. The scent of cedar and leather tickled my nose, his pleasant aroma drawing me to him. Ever so gently, I was laid back on the bed, and the barest of fingers brushed my hair across my forehead. “It’s already dark. I’ve stabled my horse for the night. We will be safe until morning.”
Safe. Safe from whom, exactly? There was only one bed, and Xander had already stretched out next to me on top of the quilt, his arms bracing behind his neck and his eyes closed as if to sleep.
“I don’t think you should sleep here.”
“Hush, woman. There’s plenty of room for the both of us.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Xander turned on his side, bringing us even closer together. His amber eyes slowly roamed over my cheeks and then stopped on my lips. I couldn’t breathe. He had sucked all of the air out of the room with his hungry look.
“Oh, I see.” He smiled. “You want to finish what we started the night of our wedding? I could most definitely oblige.”
“No!” I said adamantly. The pain of our sham of a marriage hurt more than the arrow. “If you touch me, I will curse you.” Turning, I buried my head into my pillow and closed my eyes, praying he kept his distance.
Xander’s fingers trailed along my cheek, brushing back my hair behind my ear. “Like you did to Yasmin and Gaven?” He chuckled.
I sucked in my breath at being caught so easily.
He leaned in, his breath tickling along my neck, his voice husky. “For you, I would take that chance.”
It took every single ounce of my willpower to not respond to his touch, not turn and raise my lips to his and kiss him truly. But I dared not, knowing he would throw me away as soon as I saved his kingdom. The kiss would be fleeting, for it was not love. He’d said it himself, he could not love.
Do not fall into temptation, Rosalie. You are stronger than this.
In an uncomfortable silence, we lay next to each other. I was extremely aware of every breath he took, each sigh and every time he shifted on the bed. Neither of us was going to sleep soon, and I almost wished he would kiss me again. Not out of drunken lust or because he was bespelled by my beauty but because he wanted to kiss me—for me.
Anything that would happen now wouldn’t be real, because he didn’t love me. But did I love him? I had to ask myself the question, and it only created more uncertainty. I had feelings for him when I wore the guise of a servant, but when I was his wife, he was absolutely despicable toward me, thus making me despise him. Now the charade was gone, and there was only me—the real me. The daughter of Eville. Only time would tell if the prince could love my inner darkness.
My legs were restless, and I was about to turn over and give in, throw my arms around Xander and kiss him, truly kiss him, and see if he ran away or returned the gesture. I wanted to feel his lips on mine and know what love’s first kiss was all about.
Just when I had gathered my courage to face my husband, I felt the bed dip as he moved.
My body froze, my breath caught in my lungs, and my eyelids squeezed shut as I feigned sleep. But Xander didn’t move closer. Instead, he got out of bed. Immediately a chill came over me as I felt his absence. His footsteps moved away, and I heard the door of the cabin open and close.
Prince Xander had left, taking his chances out in the cold of night rather than with the cold woman in his bed.
I sighed, momentarily relieved and at the same time depressed that he ran away from me.
Chapter Eighteen
I was running through the woods, the moonlight easily lighting my way as I searched for my prey that kept trying to elude me. His pitiful cries led me right to him. It was a young man, not more than twenty, his hair a russet brown that was cropped short, his boots splattered with mud. His scent wafted in front of me and I changed course, wondering briefly if his skin would taste as sweet in my mouth, if his blood would be infused with fear. I hoped it would.
In a few long strides, he was within my grasp. The crossbow fell empty into the mud, having spent his arrows wastefully on my shadow. I raised my clawed hand to strike and quickly ended his whimpers.
I was going to be sick.
Rolling over and tumbling from the bed, I rushed for the basin and emptied my stomach. Shaking, tears falling down my face, I crumpled to the ground and began to cry hysterically. The dreams had returned in full force. I even preferred my blackouts to these vivid nightmares.