Page 47

Lying here with him like this, I feel so warm, so safe… so cherished.

Closing my eyes, I remember how terrified I was when he fought the Wolf. Ren could have died saving me. I almost lost him, and the thought terrifies me to my core.

Drawing in a deep breath, I try to anchor myself in this moment, curled against him, reminding myself that he’s here. He’s alive and we’re safe. For now.

I’m pressed flush against his side, snuggled against his thick fur with his tail draped over me, sealing in his warmth and his delicious masculine scent.

I shift, and then freeze as I realize I’m in nothing but my undergarments, the wool blanket somehow discarded to the side instead of wrapped around my body. A vague memory of me pushing it away during the night so I could snuggle into Ren’s side, resurfaces.

A ripple of movement runs through Ren, and he changes in an instant. His fur is replaced by bare skin and the firm press of muscles at my back. His soft, warm breath ghosts across my cheek. “Are you awake?" he murmurs.

Unable to speak, I simply nod.

Slowly, I turn in his arm. His red hair is tousled from sleep, falling over his eyes. Heat curls low in my stomach as his lips curve up in a handsome smile. “Good morning, amira. Did you sleep well?”

He stands from the bed, and my heart hammers as my eyes travel over his bare torso, from his heavily muscled chest to the sculpted ridges of his abdomen, lean strength carved into every inch of his form. “Yes,” I reply, breathless.

Ren looks like he’s wearing trousers, but I know it’s an illusion—part of his shifter magic. Casually, he pulls out a spare change of clothes from our pack and holds them out to me.

My face feels like it’s on fire as I snatch it from his hands and drape it over myself. As if sensing my embarrassment, Ren lowers his gaze and turns his back to me.

As I pull the dress over my head, I can’t help but notice the finely chiseled muscles shifting in his broad shoulders and back as he moves to add more wood to the fire.

My gaze catches on the flex of his muscles as the firelight flickers over his bare skin, shadows dancing over the sharp planes of his arms and chest. There’s something mesmerizing about the effortless strength in his movements, the way he moves with such control and certainty.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry.

When I glance up, he’s watching me. He walks toward me, grace and power evident in each step. He stops and leans in close. I forget how to breathe as his amber eyes lock onto mine and his fingers brush against my temple, threading through my hair.

My lips part, and I’m wondering if he will kiss me again when he suddenly plucks a single piece of hay from the tangled strands.

“You had something there.”

An amused smirk twists his lips and I narrow my eyes. I’m sure he knows exactly what kind of effect he has on me.

This is dangerous. If I’m not careful, I’ll lose my heart to him completely.

Forcing myself to turn away from his mesmerizing gaze, I sit next to the fire and start the process of rebraiding my long hair, trying to focus on something besides the devastatingly handsome Fox nearby.

Ren crouches beside me and tilts his head. “Want some help?”

I should say no, but instead I find myself nodding. I regret my decision almost immediately when he moves behind me, positioning us so that I’m sitting between his legs, his thighs bracketing mine and my back to his chest.

I’ve slept next to him, but something about this feels so much more intimate as he guides me to lean back against him, the warmth of his body radiating to mine.

Closing my eyes, I surrender to his tender ministrations. “Your hair,” he murmurs, almost reverently. “It’s lovely—like starlight woven into silk.”

Softly, I bite my lower lip as heat flares through me. A shiver of pleasure moves down my spine when his fingers brush against the back of my neck.

“You’re good at this.”

“One of my many skills,” he teases, and I laugh. “It’s not all that different from braiding a length of rope,” he muses. “Same pattern and all that.”

I love the sound of his voice and could listen to him talk forever. It’s rich and smooth, wrapping around me like a soothing balm as he tells me more about his kingdom and his family.

When he mentions his brother—Rowan—again, something flickers in my mind. A face, just on the edge of memory—warm blue eyes, a lopsided grin. A man only a few years older than me.

“I just remembered something,” I whisper.