Page 37 of Mountains of Mist and Magic

Triston's heart pounded in his chest, his palms growing clammy as he watched Julietta's unseeing eyes. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and his breath came in short, panicked gasps. He had faced down enemies in battle, but nothing had prepared him for the helplessness he felt in this moment. It was like she couldn't see him, couldn't comprehend where she was. He couldn't get her to move, and she seemed to still be asleep, except for the fact that her eyes were open. She kept crying, and he became more and more desperate, trying everything to get her to realize where she was at. In a last-ditch effort, and without fully realizing why, he pressed his lips against hers.

A tremor dashed throughout his entire body, starting from his head and cascading throughout his muscles. He felt himself respond, felt the rush of emotions course through him. He urged himself to stop, but he couldn't. Not when it felt so right—as if he had been in a dream himself and had finally woken up in the daylight.

He went to pull away as soon as his mind caught up with his body's actions, but then he felt her kiss him back. Her tears had stopped, and she seemed to be aware now, her hands on his cheeks as she pulled him closer. His own hands went to her hair, and he stroked the blonde curls he had been longing to touch. They were soft and silky under his fingertips, and he couldn't stop himself as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. Even though they had been traveling, she smelled faintly of vanilla and sandalwood.

Their kiss deepened, and he too cupped her cheeks in his hands, exploring her mouth. He never realized just how passionate and fulfilling kissing could be. Had he ever really kissed someone before? He couldn't remember, and his mind wasn't working well enough to produce the memories. All that he could think about was how good Julietta's mouth felt against his, and how warm her body was.

Julietta's hands reached for him, grabbing desperately. Triston moved closer to her, and she moaned, this time with pleasure. The sound affected him deeply, and he found himself so overcome that he was actually growling. The sounds coming from his own throat were like nothing he had ever produced before.

“I—I…” she murmured in between kisses but couldn't seem to form a coherent thought.

“I know,” he responded, and he seemed to know almost exactly what she was thinking. She hadn't planned on this, wasn't sure she wanted it—but she still needed it. Almost as if she was possessed.

He felt the exact same way.

Her nightgown was thin underneath his fingertips, and he played with the fabric along the neckline. She gasped as he pulled it away from her shoulder, peppering her slender collarbone with kisses.

Her noises affected him deeply, and he didn't realize how exciting it was to be on the giving end of pleasure. He selfishly never cared in the past. All that mattered was his feelings, his pleasure, his satisfaction. But now…he wanted more of those sounds on her lips and wanted his name on her tongue.

“Julietta,” he whispered, placing soft but urgent kisses against her neck.

“Triston…” she whispered back, and he nearly came undone right then. He grabbed her by the waist, and tried to roll her over so that she could rest on top of him.

But instead, he rolled right off the bed and onto the floor.

The pair fell inelegantly with a loud thud, and the sharp sensation was enough to finally knock some sense into him. Triston struggled for breath, attempting to calm himself as Julietta wiggled and tried to sit upright. But as if in a farce, she only got more tangled up with him, and tripped and fell even harder into his chest.

It took several seconds to finally untangle themselves, and by then, the shame was burning a hole in Triston's gut. What had he done? How could he lack such control over himself? He was calculating in absolutely everything he did, from how he ran his kingdom to what fruit he ate for breakfast. But here he was, at an inn on the coast, passionately kissing a woman that several days ago, he wouldn't have even given a second glance.

“I'm so sorry,” he said, trying to straighten his tunic. Julietta adjusted her nightgown, pulling it back up over her shoulders.

“I—I don't know what came over me,” she said, her breath wispy and throaty.

“It's the bond.” It felt good to blame his response on something he couldn't control. But in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something else there, too.

Surely not. He never would have noticed her before.

But…would he have? If they had spent some time together, would he have slowly felt the same way?

“Yes. For sure. The bond.” She combed her hair with her fingers absentmindedly.

“You should lay back down,” he suggested, adjusting his trousers discreetly. “The healer said you shouldn't…tax yourself.” Triston nearly snorted when he repeated the advice from the healer. They had done the absolute opposite of what the elderly man had recommended.

“Yes…but…I need to use the bathroom,” she said, embarrassed. “And…I'm thirsty.”

“Of course. How foolish of me. You take care of…your needs, and I'll go find you something to drink and perhaps something to eat?”

She nodded, and he raced out of the door as fast as he could, feeling the redness all the way to the tips of his pointed ears.

Triston leaned his head against the door, sighing. They needed to get this bond broken as fast as possible, before he did something he would regret for the rest of his life.

Chapter Nineteen

“Are you sure we can't take a horse?” Esmeralda begged, looking up at Belinia. Aside from the elegant purple shade of her scales, there was nothing redeeming about her, in Esmeralda's eyes. For Belinia's part, the dragon ignored Esmeralda, and focused her eyes on her daughter, Beauty.

Phillippe chuckled, then rubbed Esmeralda's shoulders gently. “I'll be right here with you,” he reminded her, and his voice in her ear gave her reassurance that everything would be alright.

She'd often watched the seabirds from her room, high above the shoreline, and admired their freedom; her sharp eyes missing nothing as they had swooped and sailed, rose and fell. Yet she had absolutely no desire to experience what they felt, high above the ground.

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