Page 77 of Settle Down, Princess

Princess Jessalyn wouldn’t have met his gaze boldly. She wouldn’t have smiled right back. She wouldn’t have leaned in closer, just to watch the sparks of interest catch fire in his eyes, but right now, I was Jess and that alternative identity allowed me to do things I normally wouldn’t.

“I thought wolf shifter males were known for their stamina,” I said with a smirk just as his faded.

“They are.” His lips twitched, wanting to smile as he bent closer but failing to. He seemed far too intent on tracing the shape of my mouth with his eyes to do so. Just as he moved further in and started to broach my personal space, a deafening crash pulled the attention of all four of us behind us.

A wooden chair had been reduced to kindling, the shattered remains littering the ground where it’d been thrown. Arik, Roan, and Silas all gripped Creed’s shirt as he stood there, chest heaving, staring at us, but just as I was feeling a pang of guilt, Fern shook her head at me.

“Ignore him,” she advised, though many others weren’t. Older members of the community had stepped between me and my guard, talking fast but firmly to the male as he stared past them at me. “My brother has forgotten the ways of our ancestors. It comes from forming a pack with humans.” Her nose wrinkled. “Hopefully, they’re better where you come from, Jess, but Kheanian humans are terrible creatures. Arrogant and filled with overweening pride, yet fragile as small children.”

“But…”

As I stared at the shards of wood, my first impulse was to feel responsible for the chair’s destruction, then I abruptly shoved that thought away.

“The elders will see to him,” Fern assured me.

“You needn’t worry about some male that can’t even control himself,” Jorah said, smiling when my attention returned to him. “A beautiful woman like you deserves a male that knows exactly what he’s doing. One that can hold himself back until just the right moment…”

My heart had already been beating fast in my ears, but the thunder of it seemed to deepen as I stared into Jorah’s eyes. He didn’t explicitly say what he meant, but I was willing to bet we both had the same mental image. Of the two of us in a bed, the beautifully decorated leathers he was wearing tossed to the side before his fingers went to the buttons at the neck of my dress. The fabric would caress my skin as it fell away, only to be replaced by his hands. And that image raised so many questions.

Would it feel as good as the red-hazed moments I’d shared with my guards? Was it the drug that had set alight the fire in my blood, or was I capable of feeling the same with any man? These were important questions that I suddenly felt needed to be answered, but before I could reply, some angry shouts marked the moment when Arik and his pack were escorted from the dining hall.

The expressions on their faces were stark. Even at a distance, I could see Arik’s hard look. His blue eyes sparkled like chips of ice, though they seemed twice as cold. Then there was the grim line of his mouth, growing thinner by the minute, but when they were told to go, they went, allowing me to dismiss them from my attention and return it to eyes the colour of the forest. Jorah smirked when he saw he had my focus again.

“I think first you need to show me you can keep up with me.”

I stood up and grabbed a tankard of watered wine that had been poured for me, drinking deeply from the cup, then setting it down before rejoining the throng. People didn’t seem to be slowing down for a second, and the musicians still played furiously, laughing at having everyone in the hall up and dancing. I actually didn’t care too much if the male joined me. My hands went to my skirts, hiking them up disgracefully and then swirling into the mass. People danced away to let me in deeper, though a shout from Jorah let me know I had someone on my tail.

Which had me looking over my shoulder and grinning as I moved further into the crowd.

But I discovered the error of my ways as I found myself stumbling into an open space in the middle, people all around shouting and whooping the minute I regained my balance, with Jorah joining me moments later.

“We have a challenger!”

The fiddle player shouted this out as all the other musicians stopped playing.

“A challenger…?” I said.

“Hang on, hang on!” Fern appeared by my shoulder. “Jess is an outlander. She doesn’t understand our ways.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Jorah looked me up and down. “The way she was moving before made it seemed like she’s learned that devilry you single women use on the dance floor real well.”

“A challenge! A challenge!” the crowd shouted. Men, women, even children, seemed to think that something was afoot.

“What the hell is a challenge?” I hissed at Fern, wondering what I’d gotten myself into this time.

“Single men and women can put themselves forward, or step into the ring as a couple to show their prowess at dancing.”

“Prowess?” I stared into her eyes. “What prowess? I’ve barely learned the steps you use here.”

“There are no steps to learn.” She smiled as she stared into my eyes, willing me to understand. “That’s not what we do. I know human women of noble birth are forced to attend classes like they’re at school, learn dances like we might dates and events of history, but that’s not what this is.” She grinned as she looked over at Jorah, who had turned to the crowd, stirring them up with his words and gestures. “It’s a form of flirting.”

“Flirting!” My eyes whipped around the crowd. “Should you be encouraging me to flirt with a man who isn’t your brother?”

“My brother doesn’t own you.” Her smile faded and something far more real rose in its place. “Just because he claims you’re his fated mate means nothing until you feel it too. And Jorah…” She nodded in his direction. “He’s a good sort. Unless one of the girls here is lying, his fated mate lives somewhere else because he hasn’t set his cap for anyone. He’s a safe bet if you want to just have some fun.”

“Some fun…”

Why was that such a foreign concept? Why did I long for it and fear it in the same breath? I glanced back at Jorah, and it was his expression that sealed his fate. He glowed with a kind of golden brilliance in the lamp lights, that arrogant twist of his lips triggering quite a different response in me.

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