Page 25 of The Stolen Bride

“Two days, one night. Give or take a week or three.”

I groaned. “I wouldn’t be averse to a faster route.” The sooner we reached Deco, the better.

“There isn’t one.” Viktor sniffed the top of my head and tightened his hold on me. “I like the smell of your hair.”

My insides fizzed, and my bones softened.

Then he growled. “I thought I told you not to use your strange abilities.”

Way to ruin a moment. “That’s a you problem, bud. I used the soap in your bathroom.” Which reminded me. “How is your bathroom even possible?” For that matter. “How do you always have clothing in my size waiting?”

“Over the centuries, we gathered fragments from the traveling stones, both coming and going. We wove half of those fragments into the curtain and placed the other half inside the washing chamber, creating a doorway between the two. And I assessed yourmeasurements our first moments together, then hunted down an array of clothing.”

“First, that was very kind of you. Thank you.” I would forever appreciate the supply of dresses, leggings, and boots. “But, um, can you explain the measuring process?” Because he’d nailed it. Even the undergarments.

“Look there. Minks,” he said, pointing.

Okay, so, I fell for it. That, I can admit. I looked and got wrapped up in the sight of two super cute minks near the water’s shore, watching our procession. I forgot all about my question and his avoidance of issuing an answer. The minks were just so cute.

We ate jerky sticks on the go and stopped to water and rest the horses only twice, but I appreciated each break. Unused to horseback riding, my thighs grew sore fast. They would have chaffed if Viktor hadn’t noticed my increasing discomfort and repositioned me, letting me ride sideways while comfy, cozy against him.

Hmm. I liked this. Perfect for propping my head on his shoulder, burrowing deeper into his warmth, and breathing in his incredible scent. “Thank you,” I muttered. “This isn’t me falling for you, by the way.”

He grunted in response, and I liked even that.

His heart beat hard and strong against my temple, keeping me aware of his nearness. When fatigue beckoned, I closed my eyes.

I tried to distract myself from the urge to sleep, occupying my mind with thoughts of the “greater good.” Did my sister have the same dream? Did the action of my kneeling before Viktor, offering my life to him, help her in some way? Because that was the only reason I might—might—do it.

As the sun began its slow descent, my stomachgrumbled. Concentrating on anything but my starvation became a thing of the past.

“I believe I could set a clock by your hunger,” he told me, then signaled to his men. The procession stopped. “Though it would need only one setting.Always.”

I snorted. “You aren’t wrong.” But where was this sudden sense of humor coming from?

“Your legs need tending before you attempt to stand,” he muttered.

He hesitated before repositioning me, putting my back to him again and settling his big, strong hands on my thighs. As the soldiers set up camp in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees that offered a protective barrier, he massaged my aching muscles. Upon the first kneading, I arched my spine and groaned. Oh! It hurt so good!

“Don’t stop,” I croaked.

He increased the pressure, and I gasped at the perfection of it. Blood flowed to areas in need.

“You like this?” he rasped into my ear.

“Yessss.” So much!

He nuzzled his cheek against mine. “I mightneverstop.”

The soldiers erected six tents, created a pit, and started a fire. The setting sun cast the spot in muted shades of purple, red, and orange. So lovely. But when the guys finished, so did Viktor. Despite his claim, he ceased his ministrations when the men settled into a circle around the flames. After dismounting, he popped me off Fekete Ló as if I weighed nothing.

“Good horsey,” I praised. My knees nearly buckled.

“I’ve got you.” Viktor held me up with an arm around my waist and led me to a tree near the circle of soldiers. Didn’t want me joining the others, hmm?

I eased to the ground, leaned against the trunk, and stretched out my legs, sighing with contentment. My stomach ruined the moment, rumbling loudly.

Cheeks heating all over again, I grumbled, “Some people say this is the stage of hunger where even horses look good enough to eat.”

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