Tempted by a Rogue Prince by Felicity Heaton

Author:Felicity Heaton [Heaton, Felicity]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B00MHLQOW8
Goodreads: 20940832
Published: 2014-08-06T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 15

Vail sat with his back against the wall of the small ground-level cave, his right arm resting on his bent knee and his gaze on Rosalind. She lay on her side opposite him where he had placed her, curled up and sleeping fitfully, her ash blonde hair cascading like spun gold across the black rocky ground.

She had passed out shortly after they had escaped a vicious pack of Hell beasts. The seven gigantic canines had pursued him and Rosalind for miles, tracking their scents across the terrain, no matter how many valleys, fissures or mountains they crossed.

Vail had been aware of them the whole time but had kept their hunters from her, unable to bring himself to frighten her with the knowledge that they had a pack on their heels. She had been flagging since leaving the spot where Fenix had split up with them. Her hunger was a constant echo in his belly, the rumbling of her stomach so loud at times that he felt convinced that the Hell beasts had tracked them by that sound rather than their scents.

She needed to feed.

He dug the bare fingers of his left hand into the dirt, grounding himself with the feel of it and giving him something calming to focus on as he tried to devise a way of giving his mate the sustenance she required. Without it, she would perish.

He snarled under his breath at that, his fangs lengthening at the thought he might lose her. He had hunted his whole life. He could provide for her.

He would provide for her.

She was his now and he had a duty to ensure she was well fed, safe and happy.

She moaned in her sleep, her hands shoving at thin air, fitful movements edged with desperation that he could feel in her.

Nightmares haunted her.

He blinked and leaned towards her, reaching with his bare left hand, and paused with his fingers close to her forehead. What was he doing?

He stared at his dirty fingers, so close to brushing her fair skin, to what? Soothe her? Chase her nightmares away?

He was probably the cause of them.

He had caught the way she looked at him whenever he killed. She thought him a monster.

He forced himself to lean back again, the action taking effort, his body refusing to comply with his mind’s commands.

Or perhaps it was the part of him that longed to gently lay his fingers on her and stroke her cheek, to ease her while she slept and give her good dreams.

That longing was both foreign and familiar, as if the capability for good and kindness had always remained within him and hadn’t been purged as he had thought.

Had he not sought his brother’s ki’ara as an act of kindness to him?

Had he not fought Kordula’s commands to kill Loren and had disobeyed her to protect him?

Was there good within him still?

He cast his eyes away from Rosalind and picked at the dirt again, focusing on it and seeking nature. She was still buried deep, held far away from him, but she felt closer now.

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