As I’m weighing the pros and cons of those options, he slips an arm around my waist and pulls me flush against his chest.
His mouth quickly claims mine, and he runs his fingers through my hair.
He’s kissing me more passionately than he did before, taming my tongue with deep strokes that nearly make me lose my balance.
Biting down hard on my bottom lip, he whispers words I can’t comprehend, and I can only shut my eyes.
He slides a hand down my sides and grabs the hem of my nightgown. Then, slowly pushing the fabric up to my thigh, he slides his fingers between my thighs.
“Ahh…Gabriel…” I moan as he presses his thick thumb against me.
My eyes flutter open at the unfamiliar pleasure, and he gently uses the pad of his fingers to strum and tease my lower lips.
“Shhhh…” he whispers when I moan his name again.
I can’t be silent to save my life. I’ve never been touched like this, never knew my body could feel such pleasure.
He suddenly slips a finger deep inside me and muffles my scream with another dominating kiss.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
“Sir Gabriel?” A deep voice calls from my cabin door, and Gabriel pulls away from me.
“Yes?” He groans.
“Some of the troops want to ask you a few questions about the new route.”
“I’ll be right there.” He sighs, and I wait for him to resume kissing me, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he takes a step back.
“Get back in the bed,” he says. “You’ll need the sleep for the final leg of this trip. We’re almost at the end.”
Pulling something from his pocket, he gently places it on the desk before heading to the door.
“And Belle?” He looks over his shoulder.
“Yes?”
“Don’t try to leave me again.” He slams the door shut, leaving me alone, and I wait a few seconds before seeing what he’s left behind.
It’s my mother’s locket, perfectly shined anew.
The Rose Lives On
Gabriel
For the next two nights, we travel as one.
No one utters a word, not a single soul complains.
Despite a brutal rainstorm that nearly drowns our horses and a brief battle with an idiot who calls himself The Dark Huntsman, our collective focus hasn’t wavered.
Far ahead of us, miles away but within sight, lays our final destination: An old and abandoned castle on a hill.
Where I used to live…
Belle rides at my side, on her own horse, instead of sharing one with Sola. She’s avoided looking at me since we kissed in her cabin, and she’s ignored me whenever I’ve tried to offer her some of my food.
When we approach the edge of a clearing, I pull Mauricio ahead of the group and signal for everyone to stop.
“I’m sending a flock of birds ahead to check on things at the castle,” I say. “We’ll wait here until they return with news or until the sun dips under the horizon, whichever comes first.”
Nodding in agreement, everyone dismounts from their horses.
As Belle climbs down, I spot something red in her satchel.
The rose bloom I gave her when we first met.
It’s not sparkling or giving off the glow like it did for Izzie long ago, but I can’t bring myself to care.
There has to be another way for me to handle this…
“Why are you staring at me, Gabriel?” she asks.
“Am I not allowed to do that?”
“Not anymore.” She shakes her head. “I need you to stop.”
“Come again?”
“I would prefer if you stopped talking to me unless it’s absolutely necessary, so I can stop thinking about your mixed signals.”
I furrow my brow. “Mixed signals?”
“We’ve reached the part in your story when you’re about to go after who you really want, right?”
“You know what? You can continue ignoring me for the rest of the day,” I say. “Tomorrow, I hope you’ll focus on the last ‘signal’ I gave you.”
“I can’t go back and forth with someone who is chasing someone else.” She gives me her ‘I-have-a-dagger’ look, even though I know she doesn’t. “I refuse to get my hopes up or like someone who isn’t all there for me.”
“Is this your way of finally admitting that you like me?”
“No, I…” She stutters and her cheeks flush red. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“It sounds like it.” I slide my hand inside her bag and pull out my bloom. “Why did you keep this?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I like it, especially when it sparkles and moves sometimes.”
What? “Define sometimes…”
“Whenever I’m alone or reading,” she says. “It hasn’t done it in a while, though. It probably isn’t a fan of you being around.”
“I doubt that.” I smile, returning it to her bag. “I’m personally shocked you didn’t throw it away after I left that day.”
“It’s the only gift I’ve received in over a decade,” she says.
“You mean, outside of birthdays and holidays?”
“No…” She shakes her head. “After my mother passed, my father never celebrated anything on my behalf. And, of course, no suitors ever offered anything to me either. I mean, not like they knew I existed, but still. It really was my first gift, even if it was from you.”