Captive of Wolves (Bound to the Fae #1) - Eva Chase Page 0,112
aims one more smile at me. “There’s no rush, as August had a bit of a… delay in getting started on his cooking, but I expect you’ll be welcome down for breakfast in a half hour or so.”
“Okay. And—wait.”
Driven by that rush of emotion, I scramble to follow him, but when I reach his side I find I don’t know what to say. The only way I know how to express everything I want to is to grip his shirt and rise up on my toes, seeking out his lips.
Thankfully, Sylas recognizes what I’m attempting, because there’s no way I’d reach high enough on my own. He bends to meet my kiss with a fervent rumble that carries from his chest into mine.
For a few seconds, as our mouths meld together and his arms wrap around me, I can’t think about anything but the hot, heady thrill of being caught in his embrace. The earthy, smoky smell of him, rich and wild, overwhelms all my senses. I kiss him harder, feeling as if, as long as we’re locked together like this, nothing could harm either of us.
Sadly, we can’t kiss forever. Sylas lifts his head, and I ease down on my feet reluctantly, still clutching his shirt.
“Thank you,” I say.
He leans in again, just long enough for his forehead to graze mine. “And here I feel as if I should be the one thanking you. If I didn’t have other matters to attend to…” He makes a frustrated growl. “Well, there is plenty of time ahead of us.”
I wait a minute after he’s left the room to catch my breath and let the flush fade from my cheeks. Then I limp down the hall to the lavatory for a quick wash and to dampen down the twisted bits of my slept-on hair. A stronger smell of breakfast cooking wafts up the stairs. With a gurgle of my stomach, I emerge, only to find Whitt standing in the hall outside.
Not just standing—waiting for me. As I step past the door, his pose shifts from an aimlessly nonchalant stance to sharper attention. A glint dances in his blue eyes over unfathomable depths that could rival the ocean they stole their color from.
I halt where I am, uncertain. Yesterday, he went from coldly accusing to protective and repentant in the course of a few hours. How much of either of those states can be blamed on wine or drugged syrups or whatever else he’s ingested?
Which side of him am I going to get today?
His gaze is clear enough, his posture steady as he tips his head to me. The suspicion prickles over me that he’s sizing me up as much as I am him.
“You didn’t rat me out to our glorious leader about my role in last night’s escapades,” he says, his dryly melodic voice quieter than usual. Because he doesn’t want Sylas overhearing, presumably.
I can’t tell whether that’s a statement of gratitude or accusation. Does he think I should have?
I will my posture to stay as straight as his. I’m so tired of being scared. And after last night, after the way Whitt held me… I don’t think I need to be. “You said it was a mistake. Unless you’ve changed your mind about that?”
“Not at all. May you remain our honored guest.” The glint in his eye is more a twinkle now. “I still wouldn’t have expected you to shoulder the blame.”
I shrug. “I made the decision. And I can’t see that anything good would have come out of bringing the rest of it up.”
Whitt’s lips quirk upward into a slanted grin. “Too true, too true.” He runs his hand along his broad jaw. “It would have been an awful shame if this beautiful fae face of mine had ended up getting bashed about.”
A renewed flush creeps over my face. He’s teasing me about the comments I made after drinking that faerie syrup of his and nearly losing my head. The joke doesn’t entirely sit right with me, though. “Would Sylas really have attacked you?”
Whitt gives me a shrug of his own, so purposefully casual that I don’t believe his indifference. “Probably not. My lord brother has always been more generous than I truly deserve.”
A little too much truth carries through in his tone and the momentary flick of his gaze away from me. Did he seek me out not because he wanted to make sure that I wasn’t planning on tattling on him later but because he feels guilty… about