I open my eyes to the early morning rays of the sun filtering in through the window of the cottage. I start to stretch, but something tightens around my waist.
I freeze and glance down. The moment I notice Ryvan’s arm, I relax. His body is pressed against the length of my back. His wing is draped over me like a warm blanket, and I’m loath to move, but I know we must get up.
Carefully, I turn in his arms to face him. His eyes are still closed in sleep.
I take a moment to study him, reaching up to gently trace the sharp line of his brow and the pointed tip of his left ear. A low, rumbling purr begins in his chest, and I still.
His eyes snap open, full of hunger and desire. My heart stutters and stops.
“Ryvan?”
He blinks and then swallows thickly. His cheeks and the tips of his ears turn a light shade of green. “Forgive me.”
“For what?”
“My ears. A Fae’s ears are… sensitive.”
“Oh,” I reply, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to—”
He gives me a lopsided grin. “It is all right.”
Even as he smiles at me, heat suffuses my body at his nearness. Lying in his arms, my form molded to his, a strange warmth blooms in my core. His nostrils flare, and his eyes darken, his pupils blown wide so that only a thin rim of green is just barely visible around the edges.
Slowly, I lean in and press my lips gently to his.
His lips are warm and softer than I imagined. I trace my tongue along the seam of his mouth, but he pulls back.
“I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have,” I start to apologize but stop as his gaze holds mine intensely.
My heart pounds as he threads his fingers through my hair and tilts my face up to his. I open my mouth to speak, but he swallows my words as he captures my mouth in a claiming kiss.
His tongue moves expertly against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs. He splays his palm across the small of my back and pulls me even closer. His stav is a hard bar between us. Only the thin barrier of our clothing separates our bodies.
Unable to stop myself, I dig my nails into his back, holding tightly to him. I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything before.
He rips his mouth from mine. He pulls back, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Forgive me, Ella.”
“What is wrong?”
He lowers his gaze. “We cannot do this. We cannot fall in love. I would be a danger to you and—’
“Ryvan!” A voice calls, and we both still. “Ryvan, Father is furious! He’s searching for you!”
We both scramble apart and stand, turning in the direction of Eryl’s voice.
My cheeks are red with embarrassment, and when I glance at Ryvan, I find his face and the tips of his ears tinged a light-green hue.
Eryl enters the cottage. “Good morning,” he greets warmly, but when he shifts his gaze to Ryvan, his eyes narrow. “You must get home immediately. Father was enraged when he found out you were missing.”
Ryvan jumps up, his wings fluttering furiously in agitation. He glances down at us both. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Eryl shakes his head. “Be sure you do. I can only do so much. I have no way of making sure Ella can cross the barrier without being repelled by the magic of our kingdom so that she may attend the ball this evening.”
“Leave that to me,” Ryvan says and rushes away.
