Page 42 of Their Witch Bride

It’s amazing how much a long bath and drying out in front of a fire warms the spirit. I feel good down to my toes, and that’s saying a lot given the fact that I’m deep in shifter territory. In enemy territory. In a shifter castle.

Let’s not ruin the mood with those kinds of thoughts.

Slipping on my green dress and black corset make me feel like myself for the first time in days. I turn and admire myself in a mirror positioned in one corner of the room they put me in and smile. Maybe I don’t look great compared to Edna and the other witches but here, alone, I don’t think I look half bad.

Could I actually be a little happy?

It helps that things are going better than I imagined. This room they’ve given me so does not give off prison cell vibes. It’s spacious, with a tall ceiling. Dark wood makes up the room and dark wood runs in beams above me. There’s a huge bed, the biggest bed I’ve ever seen before, and doors leading out to a big balcony. I’m on the second floor too, so I definitely have a beautiful view of trees and a lake in the distance.

There’s a light knocking at my door.

“Come in!” I call out, expecting a servant.

Instead, Prince Rinan pushes open the door and strides in. My stomach does a little flip when I see him. He’s cleaned up after our long days of traveling. His face is cleanly shaven, his dirty blond hair so fluffy that I have the strangest urge to run my fingers through it, and he’s wearing a blue shirt the same pale color as his eyes. The sleeves are rolled up, drawing attention to his muscular arms.

My husbands are many things. Men who hate me. Shifters. Enemies. But they’re also incredibly handsome, I’ll give them that.

“Princess Tara… how are you settling in?” he asks, his gaze sweeping from my armoire with all my clothes to my bed, where all my weapons have been laid out.

I’d been trying to decide if I should keep weapons on me here, and if so, which ones. Would I want them to be obvious? Like a sword at my hip? Or more subtle, like a dagger on my thigh? I probably should have decided faster.

“I’m doing well. The room is far nicer than I thought it would be.”

His gaze meets mine and lingers as it runs over me. “Oh?”

I bite my lip, trying to ignore my nerves. “Yeah, Prince Drogo had mentioned something about me being in a cell, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

To my surprise, he laughs, and the sound is rich and masculine. “We’re not savages. Besides, you shouldn’t listen to Prince Drogo, he’s a bit of a grump.”

“He is, isn’t he?” I ask, smiling, feeling like I’m connecting with one of these men for the first time.

His smile falters. “And being in witch territory put us all on edge.”

“So you probably felt a little how I feel now,” I say without thinking, then flinch, wishing I could take the words back.

He studies me, those pale eyes of his assessing me. “Do you feel unsafe here?”

I cock my head, not wanting to answer. “Should I feel safe here?”

His expression is hard to read as he moves around the room, letting his fingertips hover about my weapons. “Are you going to give us a reason to be wary of you?”

“No,” I tell him easily.

He turns back to face me, and I again get the sense he’s trying to figure me out. “You’re very different from your mom.”

A laugh explodes from my lips. “Says you and everyone else who meets us.”

He gives a little shake of his head. “That laugh of yours… I like it.”

And my heart, it swells just a little.

He walks to the door. Hand on the handle, he looks back at me. “Dinner will be ready soon, and someone will be by to escort you there.”

“Thanks,” I say, my face hurting from my smile.

He seems to want to say something else, but then he just turns and goes.

I breathe easily for the first time since he entered my room. There must be something wrong with me. Every time I interact with these men it feels like I’ve been punched in the stomach… no, more like someone is twisting my gut into knots. What that means, I have no idea, but it’s probably not a good thing.

---