Page 196 of Cursed Evermore

Irritation clawed up my throat. “I'm fully covered.”

“Yes, with a sheet, and you have nothing under that shirt.” He extinguished his cigar and moved toward me, then leaned against the door, a breath away and far too close. “I don't want to have to kill anyone today, but I will if they get an eyeful of you.”

My eyes snapped wide, and I gasped. “That is ridiculous.”

“If you truly think so, my Lady, then don't leave.”

He'd been cold and distant for days. Now he was back to being possessive. I couldn't handle this. Trying to keep up with his moods screwed with my mind. I’d have better luck finding a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

As our gazes locked, I tried to compose myself. “Lord Nightblade?—”

“Wolfe.” His voice was firm, and his eyes never left mine. “You call me Wolfe.”

My breath caught in my throat, and something dangerous fluttered in my chest at the raw command in his voice. “What if I don't want to?”

“Youwillcall me Wolfe, as you always have.”

“You are the Prince of Galaythia, and I'm just a lowly mage. You will be king one day very soon. It's proper for me to call youLord Nightblade.”

He inched forward, menace filling his stare and grin. “Youwillcall me Wolfe, as you always have, Ziyka.”

A jolt of electricity shot through me, and the air between us crackled.

“Say it,” he murmured, his voice threaded with something dangerous that reflected in his silvery blue gaze.

“Wolfe.”

A possessive grin inched across his lips, revealing those dimples that could make a girl lose her dignity in a heartbeat. “Good. Now that's cleared up, I'd love to know what you remember.”

My knees threatened to buckle beneath me, and my throat constricted, making it hard to swallow. We were back to this again. Of course, in typical Wolfe style, he wouldn't let it go. My trembling hands gripped the sheet as I thought of the best answer that would get me through that door.

“I remember certain parts. Enough to know I was drunk out of my mind. Can I go now?”

“No. What parts do you remember? I'm just curious.” He braced himself against the door, then planted his hand beside my head to cage me in. “Was it the part when you called me an asshole, a nasty piece of work, or when you said you couldn't stand me?” Those eyes searched mine, his question leaving me breathless.

“I, um... vaguely remember that. But I wasn't myself.”

“What about the other parts?”

The embarrassing parts that had pushed me to flee in a sheet? Yes, of course, I remembered.Damn it, Wolfe. But I brought this on myself. “I said some stuff I shouldn't have.”

“Oh, like how you hate that you like me and you hate that you still want me?”

The knot in my stomach squeezed and tightened with raw humiliation. “I said I wasn't myself. Wine can make people say all kinds of crazy things.”

“It also makes people tell the truth.” His crude gaze made me feel small, like I'd shrunk, and I wished a portal could swallow me now. But such wishes didn't work for me.

“What do you want me to say?” I decided to summon bravery from wherever I could find it.

“Nothing. Absolutelynothing.” Those words again. It was strange how such simple words had become so significant between us. He straightened, and the lighthearted humor faded from his eyes. Then his fangs shortened back to normal as his expression grew serious.

He stared at me as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know how. Then his shoulders dropped slightly, and he said,“I don't just care about the ring.”

I stared back at him in pure disbelief; not sure I'd heard him properly. “What? What did you say?”

“I said, Idon'tjust care about the ring.”

My heart stuttered, then began beating in an entirely new rhythm. “Don't you?”