Page 14 of Caged Love
I want to lick them.
“Milana, if you keep looking at me like that…” he growls, reaching behind me to pick up one of the tunics I got him. His bicep touches my shoulder, and I clear my throat, stepping aside to give him a little space.
“You didn’t have to get me anything, you know? I could have gone myself,” he says, holding the material.
I look over his perfect naked form. “August, you’ve been tortured, half-starved, and left to sleep in the dirt for days. Please, let me do this for you. It’s the least I can do. I’m the reason you were down there in the first place.”
“We’re letting that go, remember?” He flashes me a smile I’m sure has caused many panties to drop in the past.
“I’ll let you get dressed,” I manage to get out, closing the door behind me to start cooking.
When he’s fully dressed, he steps out and sits at the table while I place a thick, juicy steak, some potatoes, salad, and a glass of ale in front of him.
“Thank you,” he rasps, keeping his eyes on me as he takes his first bite. “You made this? It’s delicious.”
I shrug. My father ensured I was raised to be a good wife. I’m a great cook, I keep a tidy house, and I know how to plan and host events. He didn’t want me to learn how to fight, and I’ve always hated that. I never wanted to be weak, and I pushed to get involved in the rebellion, but looking back, I think it was for more of his time and approval than anything else. I wanted to feel useful. I didn’t want to be a pretty toy waiting to be picked up.
“So, what now?” he asks, sipping his ale. “I need to let my friends know that I’m safe. Will Rion try and look for you? I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right?”
I do.
“Yeah, he will be looking for me. He would have told everyone about what I did by now,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “He won’t find us here, though, and Halia won’t tell him where we are.”
“The Mermaid Princess?” he asks, eyebrows raising.
I nod. “Yeah, she’s kind of my only friend. At least now that Vera…” I trail off, not wanting to bring that whole Vale thing up again. I already feel bad enough knowing that Vera lied about Rave abusing him. I was manipulated by her, and now I feel like an idiot. I thought I was helping and doing the right thing for a friend, for another woman, but I was being manipulated. “We can trust her.”
We finish the rest of our meal in silence, and August cleans up before I stand to do so. I go to the bathroom to wash up and change into some of Halia’s spare clothes, which she leaves here. Now we’re safe and out of fight-or-flight mode, my mind starts to wonder what the hell will happen next.
Leaving the bathroom and entering the bedroom, I stare at the bed. Lifting my head, I notice August standing in the other open door, doing the same.
“I can sleep on the floor,” he quickly suggests, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing up at me with a lopsided smile, giving him an almost boyish look.
“I can take the couch,” I suggest instead, knowing there’s no way his large frame will fit.
“Milana, that’s not happening.” He shakes his head, pulling the sheets back on the bed before turning and lifting me in his arms. With a soft squeal, I hold onto his shoulders while his big hands land on my hips. He gently places me on the bed and then kisses my head.
I hesitate before offering, “The bed is huge. There’s no reason for you to sleep on the floor, especially after how you’ve spent the last few nights.”
His eyes flicker. “Are you sure?”
I nod and slide over on the mattress.
Wisps of golden magic slice through the air, an awkward reminder of who we are to each other.
Of what’s on the line.
August slides into bed, pulling the blanket over us and tucking me in.
My heart races, and my nipples pebble.
I’m on the run from the people I thought I belonged with, turned on, and in bed with my mate.
What can go wrong?
Chapter Eight
She rolls over onto her side, facing away from me. My eyes drop to her shoulder, where I see her tattoo—a small bird flying away from a cage, leaving behind a trail of feathers—for the first time. It’s stunning—a caged bird, now free, just like her right now.
