A Power of Old(27)

“Do you not feel the same way?” he asked.

“I do,” I whispered. "I just didn’t know…”

“Now you do,” he replied. His eyes grew hooded and dark, watching me from the foot of the bed. Every bone in my body, every single particle that made me who and what I was, screamed out to touch him – to feel the hard, sinewy muscle of him under my hands, and his firm lips pressed against mine. Now that I knew what sensations and emotions Tejus could bring up in me, I would never get enough of him…I would never want to be apart from him.

He smiled softly, his eyes changing from lustful to gentle in a moment. He carelessly threw the bedding onto the floor, and then removed his robe and shirt – flinging those on an armchair in the corner of the room. I held my breath, my mouth running dry as I observed his scar-torn, muscled chest.

“I will ask you properly, Hazel. When the time is right…I mean it. I want you to be mine, always.”

I nodded, swallowing. “Always,” I whispered.

Between Tejus and me, I could no longer imagine it being any other way.





Hazel





I didn’t sleep well.

I spent the night hyper-aware of Tejus sleeping so close to me, my body tossing and turning as I grew too hot and then too cold – frustration burning through my nerves; wishing throughout the night that he would join me…and then running over and over his request that we be married someday. I had tried to think about it logically – to understand if I was ready for such a huge commitment…but I swiftly became distracted by the overwhelming feelings I had for him – where logic just didn’t come into it.

When I did sleep, I had horrible dreams where I thought Benedict was syphoning off someone, only to realize that it was me doing the syphoning…

It was now the morning of Ash’s coronation and I was back in the spare room getting dressed in the only attire I had that was suitable—the dress I’d worn to Tejus’s coronation. The dress that I’d been wearing when Tejus had first kissed me.

This time I was spared the awkwardness of having servants dress me, though it made some of the job problematic as I couldn’t do up the back on my own. I heard Tejus pacing impatiently outside my room. I sighed.

Behold the awesome power of a sentry. I can’t even dress myself.

I opened the door, and came face-to-face with Tejus. He was wearing black robes, his long hair pulled back in the leather tie and his face freshly shaven. I’d prepared myself for feeling the pang of mental hunger when I saw him this morning—but not the electric shocks of lust and want that coursed through my body. His dark eyes latched onto mine, his pupils dilating.

“Hi,” I murmured. “I need help with my dress.”

“Right,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

I turned around, moving my hair to the side. A moment later his fingers brushed against my spine, carefully buttoning the million pebble-sized beads that held the dress together. I felt goosebumps rise up all over my body in response.

“Sorry, my hands are cold.”

“It’s fine.” I swallowed. “It’s an annoying dress.”

“It’s a beautiful dress,” he replied softly, hooking the final button. Carefully he reached for my hair, letting it cascade back down.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He must have moved his head closer toward me, as the next moment I could feel his warm breath on my hair—but I could also sense his mind…and it sent a wave of hunger washing over me, obliterating the more carnal desire I’d felt only seconds before.

I stepped hastily away.

“I’m worried and relieved that Benedict didn’t come back last night,” I babbled. “Did you see or hear anything?”

“He may have returned,” Tejus replied, “but I wouldn’t be the first to know. Ash would.”

Oh. Right.

“Okay. I guess we’ll speak to him after the coronation.”

Tejus nodded.

I looked back up at him, trying to read his expression. I wondered how he felt, having Ash take his place. I imagined that he would see it as a lack of control—and for Tejus of all people, I imagined that would be difficult to take.

“Do you have to attend the coronation?” I asked softly.

He smiled and rose his eyebrow.

“Yes, Hazel, I have to attend the coronation. Do you think I’m going to fall apart because I’ve lost my beloved kingdom?” he asked dryly.

I rolled my eyes. How could he not take this seriously?

“Obviously not,” I retorted. “But I did think you might be a bit upset…or, I don’t know, have some kind of emotion going on behind that mask?”