She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, and she was in his bed. How he’d managed that, he had no idea. She’d been so against the idea from the very start. She’d practically railed against him when he’d suggested it the first time. His arm itched to pull the hair away from her face, lean over her, and kiss her forehead. But he didn’t. He knew there was an imaginary line that she’d drawn between them before sliding into his bed. She didn’t want him to touch her, so he wouldn’t.

But, by the forest, he wanted to feel her skin beneath his hands.

She shifted in her sleep, twisting his way. The morning moonlight streamed in through the windows, highlighting the soft, peaceful expression on her face. She’d been so tense before she’d joined him in his bed. Hell, he’d thought she wouldn’t sleep a wink. But just as soon as she’d snuggled in beside him, she’d drifted to sleep.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

Rafe smiled, trying to keep the strange emotion he felt toward her out of his voice. “Morning. Sleep well?”

With a sigh, she nodded, and then rubbed at her eyes. “What time is it? Nevermind. You don’t have clocks here. Sometimes, I forget where I am.”

“The moon rose several hours ago. It is late morning.”

Bree frowned and sat up on her elbows. “Shouldn’t we be training?”

“I wanted you to rest.” A pause. “You looked as though you needed it.”

“Thanks,” Bree said softly. She gazed up at him, and a lump formed in Rafe’s throat. By the forest, she was beautiful. And it wasn’t even her outward appearance that drew him in, though there was no denying everything about that was damn near perfection. No, it was more than that.

Despite knowing he should do nothing of the sort, he reached up and found a stray strand of hair that had fallen into her face. He pushed it back behind her ear, his heart lurching inside his chest. Bree sucked in her breath, and her body stilled.

A battle raged inside his mind. He should back away now. He should stand up out of this bed.

But his body refused to move.

He would kiss her now. To hell with the consequences.

Rafe wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and drew her toward him. He dropped his mouth to hers. She stiffened against him, but she did not pull away or push him back. Instead, a light gasp escaped her parted lips.

He pulled her in closer, a hunger rising up within him, one that could not be quenched by anyone or anything other than Bree. Her lips were soft against his, pressing gently at first before she slipped her arms up around his neck. He felt his entire body groan from the contact. He’d been yearning for this for so long. Thinking about how she would feel, how she would smell, how she would taste.

Suddenly, she tensed underneath him and pulled back. Her cheeks were pink, and her pupils were dilated. Shyly, she cut her eyes to the side and spoke her words in a whisper. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Only if you are,” he said, trailing his thumb down the delicate line of her jaw. “I very much want this, Bree, but only if you do.”

At first, he thought she would say no. Her hesitance made him feel as if he’d overstepped a line he’d worried had been there from the start. She was so impossible to read. One moment, he swore he could see the affection in her eyes. The next, she seemed so far away, as if her mind were in a different realm completely. As if she wished for nothing but home.

But then her eyes met his again, and a shy little smile spread across her face. “I do want this, Rafe.”

He grinned, wrapping his hand around the back of her neck again. By the forest, he could not wait to spend the next several hours wrapped up in her arms. He would take things slowly. He could tell that she needed that, and he would wait however long she needed if she did not want to do everything he had in mind

And then a knock sounded on the door. First, it was calm and pleasant, but it soon became a demanding frantic noise. One that sounded like several fists were knocking at once. Rafe frowned at the door, contemplating ignoring it completely.

“Rafe, open up!” Taveon’s booming voice shook through the door, and Rafe let out a resigned sigh. The Prince sounded agitated, and he knew that Rafe was home. In fact, Taveon had his own key to Rafe’s room. His old friend would not hesitate to use it to come inside.

“I better get that,” Rafe said, groaning as he pulled himself out of Bree’s arms. The redness in her cheeks had grown as the Prince’s knocks got louder and more insistent. Rafe could imagine what she was thinking. “I will tell him we slept in separate beds. The spare is unmade from when you were in it for a bit. He will have no reason to doubt it.”

Bree slid out of bed and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. She was wearing only a thin tunic that hit the top of her thighs. Rafe had to force himself not to stare at her legs and he slowly made his way to the door, rolling his eyes as the knocking became so hard that the entire door seemed to shake.

“Calm down, Taveon.” Rafe pasted on his signature devil-may-care expression, just to hide the emotions raging through his body, and he swung open the door to find Taveon mid-knock.

His old friend scowled. “What in the name of the forest took you so long to answer the damn door? I was two seconds away from banging it down, worried that something had happened to you and Bree.”

“Bree is safe. See.” Rafe opened the door wider to reveal the Redcap girl standing quietly beside the spare bed, the one she did not sleep in the night before.

Taveon’s eyes caught on Bree, and he visibly relaxed. “Good.” A pause. “I would not want anything to happen to my champion, now would I?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. Sometimes, his old friend could be a real idiot. There was no reason for him to keep up this ridiculous charade. He did not hate Bree any more than he hated the yearly moonrise ball. He liked to pretend he hated both, but he was secretly more fond of them than he even realized.

A throat cleared behind Taveon, alerting Rafe to another presence in the hallway. He frowned out the door, spotting Dagen hovering just behind the Prince.

“What are you doing here?” Rafe said, his voice edged with steel.

“I am here for the same reason Taveon is. To ensure that Bree is alright.”

“It is probably your involvement that has painted a target on Bree’s back. You keep putting her on display. First the quarters, then the ball.” Rafe narrowed his eyes. “If it was not for you, then no one would know who she is.”

“Relax,” Dagen said in a clipped tone. “I did not tell a single soul her real identity, and she did not either.”

“Well, someone knows,” Taveon said. “And, as far as I can tell, none of this happened until you got involved with her.”

“And you are the one who brought her in front of the entire Court to force her to dance for you,” Dagen snapped back.

Taveon, Rafe, and Dagen all glared at each other. They had never been particularly friendly, and things had not improved since Midas’s death, not that Rafe had expected anything else.

“Honestly.” Bree strode toward them with her fisted hands propped on her hips. “You’re all ridiculous. I’m fine. Rafe is fine. Everyone is fine. Okay?”

Taveon clenched his jaw, still glaring at Rafe. “Yes, well. Get out of that ridiculous tunic and get dressed in your fighting leathers. You will be accompanying Rafe and I on a trip today.”

Rafe winced. That would not go down well.

“Lovely,” Bree said with narrowed eyes. “Just what I’ve been looking forward to. More time with my mortal enemy.”