“Don’t tell me we came all this way only to fail now,” I groan. He ignores me, transfixed by his prize, oblivious to my mounting irritation.
“Why not climb in there and give her a real awakening?” I gesture rudely. I don’t mean it. Of all the despicable things I’ve done in my wretched life, I’ve never stooped tothat. A sick part of me wants to ruin this moment for him, that’s all.
“I don’t expect you to have many scruples, but defiling an unconscious woman seems beneath even your low standards.”
Shame scorches through me.
I’m fucking jealous. Over a woman. I can barely comprehend it. Now that I recognize it for what it is, I’m determined to do a better job of keeping myself in check.
The next several minutes test my newfound resolve.
Alistair tries again, bending over her casket and kissing her deeply. The sound drives into my ears like an arrow. For a few very long seconds, it’s all I can do to tamp down the urge to rush over, seize Alistair, and throw him off her.
Punch his handsome, regal face into a pulp.
What is wrong with you?a tiny voice of reason pipes up. The impulse doesn’t fade, but the faint sounds of kissing do. Thank the gods.
“Want me to give it a try?”
One taste. That would be enough to satisfy me forever.
Alistair clutches the sleeping woman to his chest, glaring at me.
“Seriously. Whatever you’re doing isn’t working. Let me give it a try and then let’s get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving her, and you’re not touching her.”
I scrub my face.
“Alistair.” I avoid using his title. Mockery won’t get us out of here alive. Appealing to his vanity might get me that taste I suddenly need with unsettling, clawing urgency. “No one will know. We tried, it didn’t work, we?—”
“I told you I’m not leaving her. We’re taking her down with us, asleep or awake.”
A growl of frustration rumbles low in my chest. The worst part is that I agree with him. There’s no way I’m leaving a defenseless woman alone in this awful place.
Alistair shifts. One slim arm falls down between his knees as he drags the sleeping woman half out of the coffin.
“Rose, darling. I need you to awaken.”
He slaps her cheek lightly. Every muscle in my aching body tightens.Don’t. Fucking. Hit. Her.
Alistair growls with frustration and dumps her prone form back into the coffin. He strides away, fisting his tawny hair and kicking a fat candlestick, sending it flying into the center of the hall.
While he’s having a temper fit, I take the opportunity to get a better look at Briar.
A strand of her loose hair brushes the back of my ungloved hand. Soft as silk. Liquid sunlight.
There is no way this woman is meant for anyone but a prince. A king. An emperor.
Not for the likes of me.
“Well? See any signs of wakefulness?”
“No.”
I can barely get the word past dry lips. The way my heart leaps into my throat and pounds there makes me lightheaded. I drop to one knee. She even smells like roses. Not cloying. Sweet.
Sweet Briar.
