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“I wasn’t,” I said automatically.

“Were, too.” He reached up to grab the back of his tunic and yanked it over his head with one smooth tug.

Now I was licking my lips.

With the shirt gone, the space between us seemed to pulse with heat.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the hard, taut planes of his body. The play of muscles beneath the surface of his sun-kissed skin.

He glistened with a sheen of sweat. I could smell him, not unpleasantly. The scent carried the essence of pure masculine vitality.

“Always with the sandalwood,” I complained.

He smirked. “This is pure, unbridled me you’re smelling. Perhaps you’re imagining things when you add in the spices.”

“Ha! That’s what you’d like me to believe, isn’t it? You’re carrying a bar of fragrance in your pack, aren’t you? Whatever you rub all over yourself to smell like this.” I leaned forward suddenly as if I was about to rise and dart towards his pack and, in an instant, found myself pinned to the floor.

Draven’s powerful frame hovered over me. “This what you really wanted?”

“Perhaps.” I gasped as he nudged my thighs apart with one knee. “Although the time and place is... a little unusual.”

“From what I recall, we’ve had more unusual than this.”

He leaned down and licked the line of my jaw. “Mmm.”

I was afraid to ask. “Sweaty? Disgusting?”

“Sweaty, yes. We both are.” He grinned. “Disgusting? Never. You taste good to me. Always.”

“You have terrible taste. I suppose I should be grateful,” I teased.

He slid my tunic up over my stomach and kissed my belly button, then started licking a line down to the top of my waistband.

I shivered.

“Do you think he’s watching us?”

“Who?” I frowned. “My father?”

I felt him nod. “Him. Them. Anyone.”

I looked upwards, trying to glimpse the highest point of the ceiling that arched overhead and failed.

“I don’t know. I don’t care. I want you.”

“The feeling is mutual, I assure you.”

And then my trousers were being yanked down over my hips, and I had no time to think of who may or may not have been watching us. As Draven mounted me, we were alone in our own private universe.

There was no one else who mattered.

CHAPTER 32 - MORGAN

I slept uneasily, dreaming of a long-forgotten civilization where my father ruled as king. I dreamed of my brothers fighting over a mortal woman until they had torn her asunder. I dreamed of my sister, Tempest, sitting beside a fountain filled with blood, drinking from a red-rimmed goblet.

When I woke, Draven was already packing his things. I watched as he lifted one of his water flasks and shook it, then grimaced.

“You let me sleep in,” I accused.