“If you want answers, then you need to be ready for a history lesson, my liege, and one I am not prepared to give you in the middle of the night, in this state of undress.”
Xander glanced down upon my nightdress and bare feet. His eyes widened, and seeing me in this state seemed to undo him. He spurred into action, rushing forward to lift me into his arms. Instantly, I felt the heat of his chest against my side and almost melted into him.
Xander marched me into the stable and headed to the back stall, grabbing two folded horse blankets from a shelf. He placed me down on the ground, my feet crunching the straw as he wrapped a blanket around my shoulders, then spread out another one on top of the straw.
He gestured for me to sit, but I refused to move. How dare he assume I could be so easily duped into putting myself into an unladylike situation? I was not Yasmin.
“Sit,” he demanded.
“I will not.”
Xander grabbed me around the shoulders and pushed me down into the straw. I yelped in surprise and prepared for his attack, but nothing happened. Once I had fallen on the ground, he stepped out of the stall and came back with another lantern and more blankets. Under the blanket was a long wooden handle.
“Why do you have to be so infuriating? I’ve never met someone who tries my patience as much as you.” He pulled the stall door closed behind him, crouched low, and wrapped another blanket around my shoulders, revealing the wooden crossbow. Xander unshouldered a quiver full of silver arrows and set it against the door.
“Where did you get the arrows?” I asked.
“I had already brought them down here earlier in the day.”
“Why?”
“To hunt the beast. I was coming to lie in wait in the stables when Yasmin caught me in the foyer and followed me out. She refused to leave me alone despite my warnings of danger.”
“Why would you do something so foolish? Where are your guards?”
His eyes flared with fire. “Did you not see Gaven’s men across the yard near the woodshed, Tipper and Fagen by the well, and Yassa’s guards hidden along the property?”
“No.” I shook my head.
“Then hopefully the beast wouldn’t either.”
“It’s a trap,” I realized too late.
“Yes. We tried to find the beast’s trail during the day but found nothing, so we resorted to laying a trap. We were hoping we would catch the beast in the act, but obviously you ruined any plans of that. So now, as your punishment, you must sit here and keep me awake until dawn. What was going to be Yasmin’s job has now been bequeathed to you.” His eyes twinkled mischievously, and my breath caught. He couldn’t possibly mean for me to be close to him.
His eyes lowered to my lips, and heat filled my cheeks.
I stood up to leave, but Xander grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. His strength caught me off balance, and I landed in his lap. Struggling, I tried to move away, but he gripped me tighter.
“Hush! I hear something,” he ordered.
Fearing it was the beast, I stilled and waited. My heart beat loudly, my breath caught in my lungs, my ears straining to hear beyond the confines of the stall.
Nothing.
I looked into Prince Xander’s amber eyes and saw the heat within them, the curl at the corner of his mouth, and knew he had fooled me.
“Now who’s the foolish one?” he said. “You’re freezing, I’m cold, and we have a long night ahead of us, so just sit still.”
I wasn’t angry—the opposite, in fact. I was relieved the beast hadn’t returned.
He held me gently in his arms. Neither of us spoke, but we listened to the sounds around us in the semi-dark. His slow, even breathing, my heart thudding furiously. The soft rustle of straw as he shifted to settle me into his lap easier. The swish of the blanket being adjusted to wrap around both of us tighter. I pressed my hand ever so lightly against his chest, keeping a physical and mental barrier between us. He reclined against the wall, and I slid down against his chest, my head cradled in his shoulder.
“Now, isn’t this better?” he asked.
My cheeks burned, but I was unable to comment out of embarrassment at the closeness of our bodies. The crossbow was still within a hand space away. We were both warm and safe.
“So, you were saying?” he pressed.
He was completely comfortable, but I was as stiff as a log against his side, unused to physical touch of any kind, least of all from a man I found attractive. He couldn’t possibly want me to remember what he had asked me, right?
“What?” I asked.
“You said you were going to tell me about your gift. The truth now. No lies.”
Oh, Mother. You never told us how much we were to keep secret. I sighed. Here goes. “If I touch those who have recently departed, I can see their death.”
“What?” Xander leaned forward to look at me.
“The final moments of their death. Not only that, but I dream of their death. Sometimes it comes as a vision, or a warning. Other times it’s after they’re already dead.”
He didn’t speak, and I knew he was processing the information. Judging me as if I were indeed gruesome or repulsive. I thought back to the day I’d learned about death visions and how my life would forever change.
I’d had an episode when I was no more than eight seasons—a blackout—and when I had come to, I was in my bed, covered in mud. It was Eden who had noticed my mud-covered feet and my ripped nightdress.
“Rose? Wake up, Rose.” She opened the shutter, and light streamed into my room, revealing my disheveled state. “Did you go roll in the garden?”
Sitting up, I saw my fingernails were covered in dirt, and twigs were tangled in my hair.
When Mother learned of my nightly dream excursions, she said, “It seems your gifting may be one beyond my knowledge. I must contact Lorn and schedule your day of testing.”
I expected the day of testing to include quills, scrolls, and lots of spells. I didn’t expect him to walk into my living room holding two woven baskets with lids.
“Put your hand in, but don’t look,” the elf said, holding out the right basket.
I closed my eyes as he helped guide my hand, keeping the lid closed. My fingers brushed the top of something soft, and I jumped as it moved and fluttered its wings.
“Oh my, Lorn!” I laughed as I settled my heart and let my fingers caress the top of a bird. Thinking it had something to do with guessing the type of bird, I rose to the challenge. “Too small for a chicken, too big for a sparrow, and it’s not a pigeon,” I said confidently. He pulled the basket away, and I grumbled. “Wait, I wasn’t done guessing!”
I opened my eyes and saw he had put the basket on the floor. He then presented the second one. Expecting another bird or animal, I wasn’t as nervous this time, knowing Lorn wouldn’t have placed anything dangerous inside.
I was wrong.
Nothing moved within, and I searched, reaching farther into the basket until I was almost touching the bottom. Then my fingers brushed the feathers, and I seized up.
Escape! Escape! The feeling of being trapped overwhelmed me. I was outside in a pen. I looked up as Lorn, impossibly tall like a tree, loomed over me, his hands going around my neck, and then pain and darkness.
I screamed, pushing the basket away and falling to my rear. I cried, tears rushing down my face, grasping my own neck as I could feel Lorn’s fingers tighten around it.