Page 45 of Cursed Evermore

My face burned, not just from embarrassment and astonishment, but from the way his words struck somewhere deeper, darker inside me.

“My… cousin tends to get carried away and she was…” My voice trailed off into the ether, leaving me staring at him mindlessly.

“Right,” he filled in, straightening, “She was right. I decided that if you're going to hook up with someone before your wedding, it should be me.”

Every nerve in my body went up in flames. Then my heart stuttered hard, tripping over itself like it couldn’t decide whether to flee or fall.

He wanted to be withme…

Him.

I should’ve hated how easily my body betrayed me for this stranger. There was enough shit to worry about, and I’d only barely gotten myself out of trouble. Telling him no should’ve been instinctive and instant. But…

Damn me, my traitorous heart surrendered to temptation and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to be with him.

To be claimed by him.

Tobe ruinedby him.

That kind of trouble felt like the sweetest kind of destruction.

Shamefully, my mind drifted back to the tavern. To that look he gave me and the fantasy I’d spun in my mind.

Now he was standing here. Flesh and temptation made real, offering me a sin I already wanted to commit.

Wolfe looked at me as if he was already undressing me. One more second of his stare, and I’d melt right there.

It felt like I’d been waiting for this.

For him.

If I were Emabelle, I’d already be up against the wall. In fact, she wouldn’t have allowed him to leave the tavern.

“Don’t tell me you’re about to say your betrothed wouldn’t like the idea of me propositioning you,” Wolfe drawled with a wicked smirk, borrowing the words I’d used with James, then he waved a lazy hand toward the manor.“Because that guy in there?”His gaze cut deeper into me.“He’s not yourbetrothed.”

“Isn’t he?” Of course, Thayden was nothing of the sort to me, but I wanted—no,needed—to hear Wolfe’s thoughts on the matter.

“No.” His answer was filled with steel, like a bolt holding me in place. “He’s not.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Betrothed to the Fae is a mate who is soul-marked to you, heart-vowed, promised, bound. You become one, breathe as one, live as one, love as one. So, no, he is not yourbetrothed. And he’s not what you need, either.”

His words and voice were so poetic and lulling, I didn’t realize he’d stepped closer until the scent of him curled around my lungs. It was wild cedar, salt, and something darker I couldn’t name. Something that made my stomach twist and heat gather low in my belly. And lower, in that tender place I craved him most.

As he gazed at me, giving me that piercing, assessing stare again, I suddenly felt too exposed, like he could see straight through to my soul.

“You don't even know me,” I whispered, my words barely more than a hollow breath.

Wolfe inched closer, closing the space between us until I could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

“I know enough.” His voice was velvet and smoke, and those eyes darkened to the color of a storm-tossed sea, no longer bright in the moon's light. “I know exactly what you sound like when your heart skips because you're scared, sad, or distressed. Like you were earlier when you first entered the hall with your so calledbetrothed.” He spoke softly, eyes burning into mine. “I know the way your mouth parts when you want to say no but you're already thinking yes. Like now.”

His fingers grazed mine, a touch so light it barely existed, yet I felt it everywhere. Like a whisper of fire racing through my veins.

“I knew you needed to be saved, andbreathing and focusingwould do you no good.” His voice turned husky, dropping to a register that made my belly flutter. “I knew you wanted me at the tavern, and you want me now, so you're not going to stop me if I try to kiss you.”

The air between us crackled with electricity, humming with something inevitable and intoxicating.