Auren melted into the shadows of the alleyways, moving with blinding vampire speed.
Within minutes, he slipped back inside his palace, sending Blackstone back to the royal stables with a silent command.
He hurried into his private, inner garden.
The space was bursting with rare, magical flora, the colors brilliant under the sun.
His silver eyes darted frantically from bush to bush, his brow furrowing in a rare moment of sheer panic.
What kind of flower should I bring her?
He couldn’t decide.
Red?
White?
Gold?
He didn’t know anything about what made a flower ‘good.’
Frustrated and running out of time, Auren began ruthlessly tearing flowers from every single bush he passed…roses, lilies, exotic night-blooms…gathering a massive, chaotic, overgrown bunch into his arms at lightning speed.
Armed with a small bush’s worth of multicolored petals, he used a golden gate to flash back to the city alleyway, smoothed down his cloak, and marched straight back to the carriage door, ripping it open.
Auren slid into the carriage seat directly across from her, the massive, chaotic explosion of multicolored petals completely filling the space between them.
Evryn’s hazel eyes widened with pure excitement, a breathy “Wow…” escaping her lips.
“They are absolutely beautiful!” She eagerly reached out to scoop up the bundle, but Auren lightly slapped her hand away.
“Hey!” she protested, pouting.
“You brought them for me!”
“Yes, but wait,” Auren muttered, his silver eyes fixed on the sharp stems.
“They have thorns.”
With practiced, lethal elegance, he peeled off his dark leather gloves and drew a sleek, small blade from his belt.
He took a stem, his sharp eyes tracking every single prickly edge, and sliced the thorns off with terrifyingly precise strokes.
The moment he finished cleaning a flower, he placed it gently onto her lap.
“Oh…I love it.” Evryn couldn’t help the brilliant, soft smile that took over her face.
She began studying the pristine flowers one by one as they accumulated on her dress, inhaling the rich, sweet scent.
Watching her, a rare, genuine warmth cracked through Auren’s icy exterior.
He shook his head slightly, a faint smile touching his lips, completely bewildered by how something as simple as a few uprooted weeds could make her radiate this much light.
Then, Evryn paused, lifting a particularly exotic, midnight-blue blossom with glowing silver veins.
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Auren…
where on earth did you get these?
At least half of these species are incredibly rare.”
“It’s my secret place,” he replied smoothly, not breaking the rhythm of his blade.
“You will not hide it from me, Auren.
You will not do it,” she demanded, leaning forward aggressively.
Auren raised a single eyebrow, looking up through his dark lashes with a wicked, teasing glint.
“And why should I tell you?
You are constantly rough with me.
You bark orders, snap at my heels I certainly won’t be giving up my secrets to someone who treats me like an enemy.”
“Oh, damn it, don’t be so black-hearted!” she huffed, rolling her eyes.
She reached into her basket and pulled out a soft, neatly folded scarf she had bought earlier.
She thrust it into his chest.
“Look, I brought you a scarf.
See?
I am not entirely rough, and you are totally not gentle to me either.”
Auren paused, his blade freezing mid-air.
He took the scarf, running his pale, calloused fingers over the fine fabric.
A dark, intense look crossed his silver eyes before he masked it with a soft, genuine smile.
“Thank you.
I will treasure it.”
Evryn leaned forward, her eyes bright with victory.
“Now tell me.”
Auren’s smile instantly vanished into a deadpan expression.
He didn’t even blink.
“No.”
Evryn dropped from her seat, sliding down until she was on her knees on the carriage floor, directly between his knees.
She looked up at him with wide, pleading hazel eyes.
“You know this is hard for me, yet I am on my knees.
I want to see your secret place.”
Auren had to fight with every ounce of his willpower to hide the deep amusement and dark satisfaction clawing at his chest.
The sight of her yielding, even a little, sent a dangerous thrill straight through his veins.
He stopped de-thorning the stems and leaned down into her space, his massive frame trapping her completely.
His bare fingers reached out, to her chin.
“What about letting me taste those lips again?” he murmured, as his thumb brushing lightly her lower lip.
“And that tongue…”
Evryn felt a sudden, suffocating wave of heat rush to her face from his words and his intoxicating closeness.
Her heart hammered terrified of losing her ground, she pressed a firm finger straight against his forehead, using every bit of her strength to push his face back to his own side.
She scrambled backward to stand up, but before she could fully break away, Auren’s hand shot out.
He gripped her wrist and violently pulled her right back against him, her chest slamming against his solid torso.
“I told you, you are constantly rough on me,” he whispered near her ear, his grip unyielding.
“We are completely alone in this carriage, little bird. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
No one outside could hear your screams.”
Evryn swallowed hard, glaring up at him through her lashes, though her breath was shallow.
“Screams?
Are you planning to force your way for a kiss.”
Auren’s wicked grin spread, dark and promise-filled.
“No.
The screams won’t come from force.
They will come from pure pleasure…
and you will be the one asking for more.”
A shiver of absolute electricity shot down Evryn’s spine.
Jerking her arm free, she violently pushed herself away and scrambled back into her own seat, her face burning a furious crimson.
“That tongue of yours is exactly why I am rough with you!” she snapped, crossing her arms defensively over her chest.
“Continue your work and clean the flowers.
This is more than enough for me.
I don’t even need your stupid secret place anymore.”
Auren chuckled deeply, a rich, amused rumble that filled the small interior of the coach.
He picked up his blade again, completely unfazed by her outburst.
Evryn watched him, trying to steady her racing pulse.
She shifted her eyes toward the carriage window and then back to his cloaked figure.
“Why did you follow me, anyway?”
“I couldn’t let you wander alone with that sharp tongue of yours,” he said, his silver eyes locking onto hers with a sudden, heavy intensity.
“You are a magnet for chaos, Evryn.
Besides…
tell me why you gave that man a chance to talk to you in the first place.”
“I am free woman, Auren,” she said defiantly, though her heart skipped a beat at his intense gaze.
Auren’s expression darkened instantly.
Without a word, he tossed another freshly cut, thornless rose straight onto her lap, a little too hard.
“Hey!
Be gentle with them, they are rare!” she chided, but a small smile slipped through.
“Are you planning to follow me everywhere?”
Auren paused, his silver eyes locking onto hers with a seriousness that made the playful atmosphere vanish into thin air.
“I will follow you to death itself.” he said smoothly.
Evryn didn’t flinch this time.
Instead, a slow, unsettlingly radiant smile stretched across her face.
“I would be happy if you were the one accompanying me to death,” she purred softly, her voice dripping with a dark, tantalizing warmth.
“As long as you promise it won’t be boring, Auren.”
Auren took a long, heavy breath, straining with every ounce of his restraint to steady himself from simply leaning forward and crushing those talking lips.
The sheer, intoxicating defiance in her tone was a drug he couldn’t turn down.
Instead, he reached out, his long fingers running deliberately down the stem of a flower, pressing his bare thumb against a sharp, wicked thorn until a single bead of dark crimson blood welled on his skin.
“This is your true nature, Evryn.
Thorns and blood.
I am just a captive to your real self…
you make me bleed, and yet I am still longing for more.” he murmured, his voice a smooth, low friction in the quiet carriage as he showed her the glistening bead of blood on his thumb.
Evryn smiled under her breath, quickly shifting her gaze toward the passing scenery outside the carriage window to hide the sudden, vibrant warmth rushing to her cheeks.
She was utterly captive to his words, caught completely off guard by the intoxicating way he flirted, he knew exactly how to make her blood rush with just a quiet murmur and a single drop of blood.
Then, with an effortless shift in momentum, Auren leaned back into his own seat as he picked up his small blade again, seamlessly resuming his work of de-thorning the remaining flowers as if he hadn’t just laid his soul bare before her.
As night wrapped the farm in silence as Evryn slipped through the gate.
She had changed into clothes that allowed movement, fabric soft but fitted, and wrapped her scarf around her neck against the chill…
and moved toward the neighboring Farm without looking back.
She had seen the flowers that morning.
Rare ones.
They were black-petaled and wild, thriving against the ruined stone wall where no one else cared enough to look.
She had not dared take them in daylight.
Too many eyes.
Too many questions.
Night was safer.
She reached the wall and placed her hands into the old holes worn into the stone.
Her movements were practiced, careful.
On the other side, she did not look down, and she pushed herself forward and let go.
The moment her feet left the wall, her stomach dropped.
Cold air rushed past her.
She braced for the impact, muscles tightening, preparing for pain.
It never came.
Arms closed around her mid-fall, solid and unyielding.
Her body slammed into a chest instead of the ground, momentum stolen in an instant.
Shock surged through her and instinct took over.
Evryn struck out blindly, palms hitting fabric and muscle, pushing hard, fighting, trying to break free from what she thought was danger.
Her breath came fast, sharp, panicked.
“Stop,” a low voice said near her ear.
Auren.
He stood beneath the wall, holding her firmly, his black scarf pulled high, his eyes silver even in the dark.
Her hands froze mid-strike.
“Auren,” she breathed, shock flooding her features.
“I…I’m sorry.
I thought someone else grabbed me.”
He lowered her slowly, carefully, making sure her feet were steady before releasing her.
She stepped back immediately, embarrassed heat rising to her cheeks.
He did not comment on the strike.
His attention was already elsewhere.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice low and steady.
Evryn didn’t back down, crossing her arms tightly.
“What are you doing here?”
“Do not answer my question with a question,” Auren countered, stepping closer, his silver eyes narrowing slightly.
“Why did you follow me again?” she pushed on, ignoring his warning entirely.
“Another question,” he sighed, a dangerous, amused glint flickering in his gaze.
” My eyes are always on you, you little sneaker.”
She moved past him before he could object, explaining as she walked.
Auren followed her, listening.
“You shouldn’t come out here alone at night,” he said, voice firm, almost sharp.
“You could’ve been hurt.”
She studied him then…really studied him…and smiled “You worry too much.”
His gaze softened despite himself.
“Someone has to.”
She knelt by the flowers, her eyes brightening despite the lingering tension between them.
But as she cut carefully in the dim darkness, her blade slipped, and a thorn bit sharply into her finger.
She hissed softly, pulling her hand back.
In a heartbeat, Auren grabbed her hand, drawing it firmly toward him.
His fingers closed around her wrist with deliberate care rather than force, the moonlight caught the thin, welling line of blood.
He lifted his gaze to hers, his voice tight and dripping with disapproval.
“This kind of work needs to be done in the morning, under the proper light…not waving a sharp blade around in the dead of night.”
“It’s nothing,” Evryn said quickly.
“Just a thorn.”
She looked up at him, suddenly very aware of how close he was, of how sharp his features looked in the moonlight, and of how intensely focused his gaze was on her.
Summoning her courage, she lifted her hand, bringing a single finger close to his lips.
“You said,” she murmured, testing him, her voice a soft challenge in the quiet night, “you would rather die than taste my blood.”
Auren did not look away.
Instead, a slow, wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips…a look of pure amusement and absolute adoration.
“My apologies,” he said
He watched her hazel eyes expand with surprise as he caught her hand, his fingers locking around her wrist.
Deliberately, he drew her finger into his mouth.
He sucked it slowly, his silver gaze anchored completely to her eyes, locking her in place as the hot, tight friction of his mouth sent a violent shiver straight down her spine.
He thoroughly enjoyed how much he could shake her, tracking the rapid flutter of her pulse and the sudden breathlessness that took over her.
When he finally released her, his gaze didn’t waver.
He leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her damp fingertip, his smile widening slightly at the utter undoing of his little bird.
Evryn’s heart hammered as heat rushed to her face.
surprise stealing her breath.
She had expected teasing.
Mockery.
Not this.
Had not prepared for it.
She could see the pure satisfaction gleaming in his eyes at her reaction.
He had done it completely on purpose, a deliberate provocation, and she was absolutely not going to let him enjoy the moment.
With a defiant tilt of her chin, she pulled her finger back from his grasp.
Instead of wiping it away or turning in embarrassment, she brought it directly to her own mouth.
She tasted the wet trace of his saliva on her skin.
Her eyes never left his, turning his own game right back on him.
This time, he was the one caught off guard.
A small, satisfied smile curved her mouth.
Auren’s breath caught, a ragged sound in the quiet air.
The calm mask on his face completely shattered, replaced by a raw, bleeding hunger, the moment he saw it…her finger lingering on her own lips…the last of his control burned away.
He absolutely hated how much power she had over him.
It infuriated him that a simple, small gesture from her could make his blood boil and ruin all his hard-fought restraint.
He wanted those wet lips against his own so badly it felt like a physical ache in his chest.
Fighting a losing battle against his own urge to claim her right there, he closed the distance between them, walking straight toward her, ready to crush his little bird into his arms and never let her go.
“You must not do that,” he warned, his voice dropping into a low.
He stepped closer still, until she was trapped between the cold stone and the sudden, radiating heat of him.
“Do not test me, little bird.
You have no idea what you are inviting.”.