Fear of Fire and Shadow (The Fade #1) - Samantha Young Page 0,57

Wolfe’s body covering mine, his thigh pushing my legs apart. I shivered at the feel of him against me, my brain no longer able to work against the sparks and explosions shooting off around my body as his intoxicating kisses went on and on. His strong hands slid up and down my waist seeming desperate to touch me but afraid to move higher or lower.

When I arched into him, Wolfe shook against me. He reluctantly pulled away, both of us gasping for air as he rolled off me. I didn’t know what to do with my body—my nerves were twanging, my hands shaking. I noticed Wolfe’s were, too, as he exhaled heavily, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“We have to stop. You drive me crazy, Rogan,” he whispered gruffly. “You always have.”

My heart was struggling to calm down, and I laughed at the strange, awesome but awful turn of events. “Well, you took the perfect revenge.”

He turned his head to look at me and grinned. Smug.

I swatted at him. “Very nice.”

“What?” He laughed, rolling up onto his elbow and reaching out to brush my hair off my face. “After spending the last few years panting after you, it’s nice to know you want me back.”

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “The last few years?”

Laughing, Wolfe pulled me into his embrace and tucked my head under his chin. Despite how strange it felt, it was also lovely. I snuggled into his heat. “Let’s stop the questions for now, Rogan. We need to sleep.”

I was skeptical that after our passionate interlude, I would be able to fall asleep. But surprisingly, with Wolfe keeping me safe, I drifted off quickly into a dreamless slumber.

Chapter 18

I couldn’t see her in the crowds. Where was she? This was her night. Smiling benignly at a Raphizyan baron and his insipidly vapid wife, I made my way out of the noisy ballroom and into the foyer. I had already asked Vikomt Matai, her newest bodyguard, if he had seen her. He had turned his back for one minute and she was gone. I knew the man felt terrible, losing the princezna in a crowded ballroom two weeks into his new post. I tried to reassure him. Haydyn could be a minx, and he’d have to get to know her to understand her better. Once he had, looking after her wouldn’t be a problem.

Two footmen stood guard at the entrance. “Have you seen the princezna?” I asked, before reminding myself to stop anxiously twisting my hands in case they thought something was amiss.

One of the footmen stepped forward. “Her Majesty left the ballroom a few minutes ago, my lady. She was headed in the direction of the orangery.”

I nodded my thanks and lifted my gown, my steps picking up pace as I followed the luxuriously gilded hallways of the palace to the large glasshouse in the east wing with views of the Silver Sea in the distance. Not that you could really see the views past the exotic plants and citruses Stena, the gardener, had populated it with.

Briefly, I closed my eyes, wondering what on Phaedra I’d find when I got there. This was supposed to be Haydyn’s proper debut as Princezna; she was eighteen now, no longer a child. But something had been plaguing her all day.

I stepped inside the humid air of the orangery, the scents somewhat overwhelming. But Haydyn liked it here. She said it made her feel like she was somewhere else. I relaxed a little upon finding her on a bench at the back of the room. She glanced up at my appearance.

“Haydyn,” I whispered, moving toward her, the rustling of my skirts sounding overly loud in the quiet space. With a deep exhalation, I sat beside her, our elbows bumping. “Why aren’t you at the ball enjoying your debut?”

She huffed, “It’s not as if they haven’t seen me at a ball before.”

“True,” I muttered, desperately trying to keep the laughter out of my voice. “But this is a special evening, and you really should return to your guests.”

Haydyn shrugged.

I frowned. “I know you aren’t blind to the superficiality of some of your court, but you’ve never treated them with disdain. You’ve always been so friendly and polite to everyone. Tonight, I’d be surprised if you had stretched your lips once into a smile. I even thought I misheard you telling Lady Viskt that if the people of Alvernia were half as well-fed as her cat, Phaedra would have no tribulations. Now I