Page 183 of Forcing Fate

When I looked up, my words abandoned me. He strode across the room, his bare feet silent on the wood floor. His tunic hung open, and I swear he looked like a man who was after something.

Someone.

Me.

I snapped my jaw shut with a click as he walked straight to me. I craned my head back, and he placed his hands on the cot on either side of me. Leaning in, he pressed his face to my neck. My pulse roared as my heart slammed a frantic beat, trying to process my emotions. I lifted a trembling hand to hold his neck and press him closer as he spoke.

“You stink.”

I choked on a laugh and shoved at his chest. The tension broke, and he smirked as he pulled away.

“I do not!”

“Lift your arm. Have a sniff,” he taunted.

“I will not—I do not!” I shrieked, laughing.

“Aye, a bath is first on our list this morn,” he said, fastening the buttons of his tunic.

I watched his deft fingers as I tried to keep my nervous smile from wobbling. “Then where? Do you have a place to be?” I reached for my toiletries. Surely his errands would take priority.

“No. You were off to see family?” he asked, heading back up the stairs.

“Yes, my mother,” I called, pulling on my cloak.

I heard his grunt and smiled. He probably disapproved of seeing family. Perhaps it distracted a soldier from their duty.

He came down carrying his boots and took a seat beside me on my cot, putting them on. I noted his bag of bathing supplies and wondered if he had not bathed yesterday either. Leaning toward him, I pressed my face to his neck. He stilled, and in that moment, I forgot what I was doing.

I froze like a terrified child with their hand caught in the honey jar.

“So, do I smell?” he rumbled. His voice was rough and thick with some unknown emotion.

I leaned closer, bracing my hand on his thigh. His leg twitched beneath my palm and I sniffed at his neck. Heat filled me and the room seemed far too small and stifling.

“Yes,” I breathed against his skin.

“Hmm.” He grunted and cleared his throat, still frozen in place.

“Like leather, wood smoke—sweat.” I paused, bringing my lips to brush against the vein in his neck that thrummed with his quick pulse. “Like a man.”

With a groan, he jerked to his feet, and I shrunk away from him, embarrassed. That was too much. Far too much. That was definitely crossing the line. I fidgeted with the drawstring of my bag. Surely, he would call me out now. Push me away or charge me with a crime.

“Coming, Vy?”

I looked up, and instead of a judging glower, I saw a man. Not my General, but simply a man. He had the smallest of smiles, but to me, that smile was the world. I flashed him a grin and stood, following him out the doors.

The walk to the spring was quiet, and I was thankful for the chill taking away some of the heat of the moment. I stumbled in a snowdrift and his strong hand gripped my arm, pulling me upright. I smiled my thanks and looked back at the deep snow as we headed on.

If this was what attraction—love, lust, whatever it was—felt like, I could see why women sought it. It was addictive. The risk behind the move, the bold play, the wait for a response, the rush of excitement. I now had far more understanding of the matters of love than I had ever wanted.

I didn’t feel like this with any of the boys on the school grounds, or toward Willhelm. Why was General Rafe the one that made my blood boil… in a heated, delicious way that had me craving more?

Lost in thought, my foot slipped near the steep edge above the cliff that led to the spring. I yelped as Rafe grabbed my arms and pulled me to him. My momentum pulled us over the edge and he rolled with me as we tumbled down the cliff. We landed at the bottom in a snowdrift. I lay there for a moment, blinking up at the sky, wondering what just happened.

“Vy–” a muffled voice from beneath me urged.

I scrambled off Rafe and sat in the snow, looking at him. He was pressed into the snow, his arms, and legs askew. His dark clothes and positioning seemed almost comical, and I burst into laughter.

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