Page 96 of White Horse Black Nights

Hugging the shadows, she moves with purpose down the hallway. The same woman as before moans from the alcove, and Sabine freezes, presses a hand to her chest, then continues. I stalk her from behind, curious about what she’s up to. She knows there’s no escape from Sorsha Hall, so what’s her aim?

At the end of the hall, she pauses. She stands still for a few seconds like she’s listening. Nearly inaudibly, she whispers under her breath as though voicing a thought. “Who are you? What do you want?” It’s so quiet that only someone with my hearing could pick up on it.

A second later, she turns toward the lower level stairs with purpose again.

Yeah—I don’t like this.

The only things on the lower level are some potato storage and the dungeon, neither of which Sabine has any business rooting around. It’s time to cut her little adventure short.

With swift, silent steps, I move up behind her and wrap my hand around her mouth from behind. My other hand locks around her waist. Her damn costume wings are between us, the feathers clogging my mouth, my heavy shoulder plates getting in the way, too.

She screams into my hand and bucks as I spin her around to press her back against the wall. It’s too dark for her to recognize me right away. Wild-eyed, she struggles to slam her knee against my groin—hey, at least she remembered what I taught her—but I easily anticipate the strike and block her.

“Quiet,” I hiss. “It’s just me.”

Her screams dry up, but her pulse is still shouting. Her breasts rise and fall like creamy pillows, shoved up and on display from her dress, the wings’ harness squeezing them together. She stops struggling, but her eyes are still primed to fight.

Her wings crumple against the wall as I push her backward again. “I’m going to take away my hand now, and you’re going to tell me where you’re going.”

Slowly, I remove my palm from her damp mouth, sliding it down to snare her neck instead.

Baring her teeth, she snarls, “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my job to protect you. Did you think I’d let you out of my sight?” Her perfect breasts continue to heave, straining against the harness. “Now tell me where you’re headed.”

“I just needed a second of quiet!”

“You’re lying,” I say lazily, pressing my thumb to her jugular, where her pulse reveals her deception.

Squirming under my grip, she spits out, “Rian has secrets—you’ll forgive me for wanting to know the truth about who I’m supposed to marry.”

“Secrets hidden in the potato cellar?”

“What? I don’t know. I’m just following a—a hunch. Secrets are always kept somewhere dark and deep, aren’t they?”

She isn’t telling the whole truth, but most of what she says isn’t a lie. It earns her a lighter grip around her throat. The muscles there bob as she swallows, and I can’t help myself. It’s fucked up, but all I can think about is ramming my cock down that throat until she moans.

“You didn’t seem so troubled by your husband’s secrets when you had your ass in his hand,” I say.

“What was I supposed to do? I lost the bet.”

I growl, “You did it on purpose. You wanted to hurt me.”

She’s immediately ready with a jab. “Oh, like you hurt me? I’m not yours, Wolf Bowborn. You could have been fucking me right now in a beach cottage, but you chose not to. You chosethis.”

I see red at the accusation. My body hardens, adrenaline preparing it for a coming fight or fuck. But it isn’t her I’m furious with. It’s me. Her words strike too hard to the punishing truth.

“I never chosethis,” I hiss. Who in their right mind would choose this exquisite torment? To watch the girl I want with her lips all over another man?

She skewers me with a scathing look that tells me how wrong I am.

“Admit it,” I say between my clamped teeth. “You were thinking about me when you stuck your tongue down his throat.”

“What do you care?” she shoots back. “You had a whore ride your cock what, three days ago? You used me and threw me away!”

It takes every ounce of my strength to maintain the lie and swallow down the hate she’s throwing my way. “I would never throw you away, Sabine. Not in the thousand years the gods have slumbered.”

“Then why be so cruel?” Angry tears glisten in her eyes, and it breaks me a little.

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