Page 57 of Bound to the Shadow Prince

Sleeping next to Nemeth means a lot of twitching and him taking up most of the bed for his wings, so when he adjusts the blankets and the bed creaks, I only roll over and tuck my head against the pillow. “Is it morning?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Just wondering.” I don’t intend on getting out of bed. It’s far too pleasant and I don’t have anywhere to be. I pat the mattress without opening my eyes. “Come back and snuggle with me.”

Nemeth chuckles and I feel his weight shift on the bed. His hand grazes over my hip, and then he lifts the hem of my sleep-gown, hiking it up my thighs. “Roll onto your back for me, greedy princess.”

Ooooh. A change of heart? I’m awake now. I roll onto my back as he asks and tug my gown up the rest of the way, until it’s at my waist. “You’re not going to find a single objection to a morning wake-up such as this.”

His big hands skim over my legs, warming them. “Gods, you’re pretty.”

I wriggle with pleasure at that. My legs are plump and pale, but I like to think they look nice. I’ve never had any complaints.“I have hair between my legs,” I point out, since he did not. “It’s a normal human thing.”

“I see it,” he murmurs. “Such a sweet little tuft of floss.”

His husky words make me clench, and I’m getting wet with anticipation. He skims his hands over my thighs again, the bed creaking…and then stops.

Nothing happens.

I open my eyes but of course it’s pitch black in the chamber, without a hint of light bleeding in. “Um, Nemeth?”

“Sh,” he whispers. “Do you hear that?”

I don’t want to hearanythingbut the enthusiastic sounds of his mouth on my pussy. I squirm against his grip, but he’s still not doing more than holding my hips in place. “Hear what?”

“Sh,” he says again.

Then, I hear it.

A very faintchink. A pause, and then anotherchink.

Like someone’s tapping away at the tower.

I sit bolt upright at that. “Balon? Do you think he’s trying to come in?”

“I don’t know,” Nemeth says, and there’s a growl in his voice. “But if he is, I aim to stop him.”

Never have I heard Nemeth so…possessive. So fiercely angry. I shiver with unexpected delight. “Maybe it’s just birds,” I say, even as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. I hear Nemeth moving about in the chamber, and two taps later, one of the lights flares to life. I catch a mouthwatering glimpse of his straining morning erection in his loin-wrap, but then he turns away and picks up his kilt.

“Whoever it is, they have bloody awful timing,” I mutter. To think that Nemeth woke up aroused and ready to treat me with the same wake-up that I gave him…and then to cruelly thwart me.

He chuckles. “It is the gods reminding me that I am to savor and not to be weak and greedy.”

“I don’t mind weak and greedy.” But I get dressed, too, because I’m curious what that sound is. I throw on an ornately embroidered sitting gown and knot the seven ties across the front that act as a bodice and make it decent, and then slide my feet into my slippers. “Get the light?”

He finishes belting his kilt and picks up one of the lights while I braid my hair as I walk. I can’t help but notice that Nemeth’s hand remains firmly on the small of my back, as if he’s protecting me from Balon…if it even is Balon. I think about my knife’s ominous silence and worry anew.

At some point, I’m going to have to tell Nemeth about the knife. Perhaps after I dig it out again. Right now, I’m not certain I want to hear its answers. For now, I’m happier not knowing.

We head downstairs, to the large empty chamber. It’s been a while since I’ve done more than simply pass through this room, especially now that all of my wood is gone. It’s so strange to me that this tower has four floors but both Nemeth and I barely use the top floor and this one. Perhaps prior Offerings came with a larger amount of things? A full suite of furniture? Musical instruments? Or is it simply to provide enough room so that both the Fellian Offering and the Liosian one don’t have to run into one another?

On the main floor, now we can hear the steady clinking of rock and the sound of brick being chipped away. I draw closer to Nemeth, because I don’t know what to make of this. “Do you think it’s our supplies?”

“The solstice is not for another week,” Nemeth tells me, and I can hear the concern in his voice, too. “It’s not against the goddess’s rules for the door to be opened so long as we do not step outside.”

Right. The rules are clear that we have to stay in, and no one else can join us. “If it’s Balon, what do we do?”

“What we have to do,” Nemeth says grimly.

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