Scry Wolf: A Touch of Red prequel (Dark Fairytales Book 1) by Christina Herlyn

Author:Christina Herlyn [Herlyn, Christina]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2022-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

“Meddling is an ugly word.” She bent to inhale the sweet scent of her favorite flowers. “I feel helpful today, if you must put a word to it.”

“Right.” He took her elbow and led her around a corner to a bench shaded by a flowering fruit tree. He invited her to sit beside him. “If you encourage an attachment for Captain Shavonne other than yourself, she might neglect you if the warlock is in danger.”

She studied his furrowed brow that didn’t quite wrinkle his smooth scalp. His warm eyes held concern with a bit of determination. He expected an argument, of course. She gave into the urge and physically smoothed the frown from his forehead with her fingertips then caressed his cheek. “Do you ever stop worrying about me, you dear man? It isn’t healthy.”

His façade broke. Something she’d not seen in ten years. He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. The intimate gesture cracked the walls inside her. A wave of emotion exploded, spreading warmth through her body and confusion in her soul. They were comfortable friends not . . . this. She half-heartedly tried to free her hand and stifle the yearning he’d ignited.

Alon held on and pulled her closer. “Please, Gratia.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “Please do not send me away from you. Being your friend and advisor is all I have. All I am allowed.”

“Alon!” She added her other hand to the top of his. “I will allow you whatever you wish! You don’t have to be my advisor. What is it you want? Do not let my selfishness keep you beside me. I . . .” She took a deep breath. “I will manage without you. Do not neglect your wishes because of me.”

He closed his eyes, dropped her hands, and stood. After straightening his blue tunic and clearing his throat, he said, “That is not what I meant. I will not leave your side, My Queen.” He held out his hand. “Do you wish to walk some more?”

She studied his hand, his face, and hesitated. Something important had changed, and they stood at a crossroads. If she pretended to believe him, their complacent relationship would continue, both of them lonely and longing for more. She’d known enough men to recognize the flare he’d tried to hide when he’d pulled her closer and kissed her palm. They’d stopped years ago for the sake of discretion, not a lack of desire.

Did discretion still matter? She had ruled this country for almost four decades, and the only time her fitness to rule had been challenged was when she’d married a foreign general with unknown antecedents. Her people had learned to love and trust Gerand quickly, and no one had argued much with her choices since.

“Please sit, Alon.” She held her breath as he, too, realized the choice before them.

He sat back down and waited—would continue to wait, she knew. This was her decision, not one her advisor could make for her. She studied his handsome face until her chest ached.

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