Page 18 of Stolen
And I go still.
Her eyes blink open. Dark, rich, stunning. Confused, but not screaming.
Her voice is rough when she whispers, “Wha-what are you doing?”
I straighten just slightly, eyes locked on hers.
“What is that you smell of?” I ask, genuine curiosity in my voice.
She blinks. “It’s body cream. Um, it has shea butter.”
I hum. “It’s lovely. Soft. It suits you.”
She stiffens, trying to sit up, eyes wide when she realizes she is nude beneath the sheet.
“You undressed me?”
I nod.
“Do not worry,Myrrin.I didn’t touch you.”
Fuck. These terms of endearment keep spilling from my lips without so much as a by your leave.
“Myrrin?” she asks, putting the emphasis on the wrong part of the word.
“Myrrin.MEER-in,” I correct her pronunciation.
She cants her head to the side and says it again, correctly this time.
“Myrrin.”
I grin. Really, she is taking this much better than I thought.
“It means Sweet. Like your scent.”
Her eyes widen before sweeping the room.
I watch her catalog everything—the stone walls, the flickering torchlight, the impossibly tall windows.
Then her gaze snaps back to me.
“Okay, why am I here? Where am I? And why am I naked?”
I take a breath. No more lies. Just not all of the truth.
“This is Nightfall,” I say quietly, stepping closer. “You are naked because your clothes were soiled. And I’ve brought you here, Jules Strano, to be mine.”
Chapter4
Jules
Nightfall—TheEyrie
I feel like I’m floating somewhere between sleep and waking.
The air smells like smoke and silk and something older than time.
There’s no trash here.
