Chapter 15: The Rule He Wrote

Neve's POV

The north wing was cold.

The room behind the linen store had one narrow bed and a window that looked out over the tower.

I had been there two nights.

Every night the silver rose in me an hour before midnight.

Every night I coughed it into a basin and lay awake with my teeth aching.

Sorrel's band was on her head.

Mine was in my blood.

On the second night, I was on my knees on the boards with my forehead against the cold stone sill.

The door opened without a knock.

I knew him by the smell of him before I turned.

Smoke, and old iron, and the warmth that I could not stop wanting.

"You are not supposed to be here," I said, and my voice came out a croak.

"The captain has the key."

"Then how..."

"There is a stair behind the hearth in my chamber," he said. "My father built it for his mistresses."

He shut the door behind him.

"I have not used it before."

He crossed the room in three strides and went down on one knee beside me.

His hand came out and stopped in the air.

"No touching," I said, and wiped my mouth on the back of my wrist.

"I wrote that rule."

"You did."

"I am going to break it."

I looked up.

He was very close, and his face was lit by the one candle.

There was nothing cold in it at all.

"Your wolf is calling to mine," he said. "I have heard it all evening."

"It's the silver."

"It is not the silver. I could not sit in that chair and let it call."

His hand settled at the side of my neck, big and dry and very warm, and I shut my eyes.

The ache in my teeth eased.

It did not stop.

It eased, and the easing ran down my spine and left something else behind.

"There," he said, very low. "That is the excuse. Tell me when it is finished."

I did not tell him.

His thumb moved along my jaw, and the heat went with it.

Neither of us said a word until the candle guttered.

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