The Wolf Prince Hid His Mate, So the Lords Wanted His Crown novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: Wait for Me

Joren had a rule about the nights he did not trust himself, which was to make them last.

He stood at the foot of Hakon's bed and watched Hakon decide whether to be insulted.

"Strip," Joren said.

"You first," Hakon said.

"Not tonight."

"You're a tyrant," Hakon said.

"Yes," Joren said.

Hakon grinned, wicked and delighted, and began to undo his shirt.

Joren watched every button.

He had watched the same hands since they were nine, ink-stained and clumsy on the fastenings of a boy's coat.

He had never once looked at them the way he looked now.

The shirt went to the floor.

The mark on Hakon's hip was already lit, a fine silver crescent under the lamplight, pulsing with his pulse.

Joren's own mark answered, warm against his skin.

He ignored it.

"On the bed," he said. "On your back. Hands above your head."

Hakon lay down and put his hands on the pillow.

He was beautiful like that, long and lean and flushed, his hair coming loose.

His grey eyes watched Joren under heavy lids.

Joren unbuckled his own belt and drew it through the loops.

The leather whispered.

"Is this going to hurt?" Hakon said.

"If you pull."

He looped the belt twice around Hakon's wrists, and cinched it against the iron rail of the headboard, firmly, not tightly.

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