Page 63 of Winter's Fate

Edmun grinned. “I’ll relay the message.”

The old soldier led her to a larger tent near the center of the camp. Her legs were sore from riding and the discomfort stiffened her lower back. When he lifted the flap to usher her inside, she paused at the entrance, unable to suppress a gasp.

It seemed impossible. Itwasimpossible, but there it stood: a bathtub, in the middle of the tent, the water still steaming.

Edmun chuckled. “There’s a village right over the hill there, to the west. King Hawk pays a good sum for people to attend the camp for the night.”

“Wise of him,” Laena murmured, her head throbbing. All she wanted was to submerge herself in that water for as long as it would stay hot. And perhaps sometime after. “I imagine he takes a different route each way, to spread the coin around.”

“That he does,” Edmun replied. “I’ll station two guards outside. You call out if you need anything.”

As Laena lowered her aching body into the tub, she thought she would never need anything ever again. Her muscles loosened in the heat of the water, allowing her to stretch, and she let her head rest against the side of the tub. She might have wept from the comfort of it.

When the water grew lukewarm, she washed her hair with the pat of soap someone had left—it smelled of roses—and scrubbed her skin until it ached pleasantly.

Someone had left her a clean shift, which she slipped it on. She wrapped herself in one of the soft blankets from the bed. This town clearly had a lot of experience serving the king and his soldiers. She wanted to thank each of them personally.

As she was considering that, one of the guards rapped on the pole outside the tent. “Captain’s here,” the guard said. “Only, Edmun says I’m to send him away if you don’t want to see him.”

Laena hid a smile and said, “It’s all right. I’ll call for you if he acts out of turn.”

Callum ducked into the tent, and her heart stuttered. He’d managed to procure a bath, too, or perhaps Edmun had dumped a bucket of water over his fool head. He’d attempted to smooth his dark curls away from his face, but they were as unruly as ever, falling across his forehead and over his ears.

“My lady,” he said. “I owe you an apology.”

“And I owe you a slap,” she replied.

He had the grace to look ashamed. “Edmun warned me you’d say that. It would be no more than I deserve. Shall I position myself here by the wall? I’ll face my punishment without complaint.”

Laena slid off the bed, the blanket still wrapped around her. She approached him slowly, unsure of what she planned to do until she got there.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

He swallowed, drawing in a long breath. “I trust you.”

She raised her hand, and he didn’t flinch as she gently touched his cheek. His skin was warm beneath her fingers. “I felt magic when I touched the king.”

“That,” he said, “is a sentence I never want to hear you say again.”

“Tell me why.”

He leaned into her touch, ice-blue eyes boring into her as though he could see to her very soul. Instead of answering the question, he leaned forward until he was a breath away. Less than a breath—the width of a coin, the width of a hair, his lips so close that the slightest quiver would bring them together, until she thought she would go mad. This sliver of distance would be her very undoing.

“Because, my lady”—his lips skimmed along hers as he spoke—“you belong to me.”

He tilted his head, and then he was kissing her, capturing her lips between his with a hunger that made her gasp. He made a sound in the back of his throat, sweeping his tongue into her mouth with an urgency that made her dizzy with need. Wrapped in his smell of woodsmoke and leather, and the barest hints of whiskey, she dropped her hands to his neck, running her fingers through his curls as he kissed her.

The blanket slipped from her shoulders, landing in a heap on the floor. His hands were already on her hips, drawing her closer to his obviously growing need. She pushed her body closer to his, reveling in the feel of his hands. He lifted her off her feet and carried her to the bed.

When he laid her down, it was with a reverence that made her breath catch in her throat.

As he pressed his lips to her neck, she arched into his touch, throwing her head back to allow him full access to her throat. His fingers played at the laces of her shift, freeing her chest, and she gasped as he flicked a thumb over her nipple then worked itbetween his fingers. His body, now flush against her, radiated heat even through the layers of their clothing. Their legs tangled together, her shift riding ever higher as his hands skimmed along her sides.

He took her breast into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nipple before taking it into his mouth. Ripples of pleasure pulsed out across her ribs and down through her core, her magic rising to join with her desire.

When she moaned, he pressed his knee between her legs. “Ride,” he commanded, his teeth grazing her nipple, and she was all too eager to comply. She jerked her hips against his leg, rubbing her sex against his thigh. He pressed a thumb to her breast, freeing the second one for his hungry mouth as she dragged her body against him, the fabric of her underthings rubbing against her, bringing her ever closer to her climax. She could feel the swell of his own desire against her belly, and it emboldened her to ride harder.

“Come for me, Laena,” he said, his fingers skimming beneath the waist of her trousers as she rode him. When he pressed his thumb to the sensitive nub above her sex, she exploded, pleasure expanding out from her core in exquisite waves. He muffled her moans with a deep kiss as her pleasure subsided, leaving her limp with its aftereffects.

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