Chapter 12: First Night

I locked the oak door myself with my father's spare key, and my hand did not shake.

June took one look at my face and ran up the stairs without a word.

Elias put the candle on the floor of the cell and shut the iron door behind us.

The cell was four steps wide.

I turned and looked at him, and the whole night poured out of me.

Twenty years of being called a murderer.

Two hundred wolves voting me into a cellar while I stood there alone.

A father who had carved my loneliness into a wall.

I wanted to break something, and I wanted to be held, and I wanted the one thing in this house that was not a lie.

"Elias," I said, facing him so he could see it. "Take your shirt off."

He read it on my mouth.

His eyes went dark.

He pulled the canvas jacket off, and then the shirt under it, and dropped them on the cot.

He was built hard, all long muscle and old scars, with a thin line of dark gold hair running down his stomach.

I put both palms flat on his chest.

His heart was slamming under my hand.

"You said no promises," he said, loud and rough.

"I did."

"Good."

He bent his head, and I met his mouth halfway.

He kissed me slowly at first, with his hand sliding up into my hair, and then I opened my mouth against his and he groaned.

I felt the sound in my own chest.

I pushed him back against the bars and went for his belt.

His hands found my hips and pulled me flush against him.

I felt his cock already thick and hard against my stomach through his jeans.

"Look at me," I said.

His eyes snapped up to my mouth.

"I want your cock," I said, clear and slow. "Right now."

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