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“Valora…” he said, his voice strained but quiet, his fingers threading gently through the strands of her hair. The sound of her name was enough to spur her on, and Valora’s inhibitions began to disappear as she pleasured him, taking him deeper in her mouth.

She hummed softly around him, revelling at the silky feel of his flesh on her lips.

Torrin never once pushed; he only cradled her head gently, letting her pleasure him as she wished, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of power course through her at the thought that she was the reason for his arousal.

“Ye dinnae ken what ye dae tae me,” Torrin said as he pulled back from her, much to Valora’s chagrin. “I need ye. I need tae be inside ye, tae feel ye around me.”

Those words excited her as much as they embarrassed her, but Valora had long since come to terms with the fact that if she wanted this, if she craved this pleasure, then she had to be bold.

As Torrin lay over her, his hand reaching between them to guide his length to her opening, she looked at him with wide eyes, her gaze heated and full of passion.

Torrin entered her ever so slowly, dragging out their combined pleasure. A moan escaped her lips, loud and echoing in the night, and Torrin was quick to place a hand over her mouth—firm but still gentle, just enough to silence her.

“Ye must keep quiet,” he told her in a hushed whisper, though he, too, seemed to struggle with it. “Be quiet, mo ghraidh . That’s a good lass.”

The praise went straight to Valora’s core, her walls pulsing pleasurably around Torrin.

The night air brushed against her skin, but Torrin’s body, his touch, the slick slide of their bodies—all of it was warm, keeping her in the moment.

The slow thrusts of his hips were like the push and pull of the distant tide, her pleasure ebbing and flowing with them, and Valora couldn’t help but cling onto him as he took her.

Her fingers curled around his shoulders, digging into the skin, and in response, Torrin began to move faster, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

Never before had Valora felt so close to another person, as though the two of them were becoming one, melding together in their desire.

Her body craved him—his touch, his kisses, the pleasure he could give her.

And she wanted to give him the same pleasure in return, to know that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

With a groan, Torrin gathered her in his arms and held her close to his chest, the two of them desperately clinging to each other.

Everything that was unsaid between them was now voiced not through words, but through the movements of their bodies, through the way they held each other with as much tenderness as passion.

For the first time in her life, Valora knew she was deeply loved—she could feel it in her skin, in her bones, in every breath she took.

The look Torrin gave her as they gazed in each other’s eyes burst with adoration, with the kind of love that she, too, felt for him.

Each drag of his manhood against her walls, each caress of his fingers, each kiss he pressed to her lips and her jaw as he desperately thrusted into her added to the heat that pooled in her core.

Torrin filled her to the brim, his adoring gasps and sighs like music to Valora’s ears.

When he reached down to hook his arms under her knees, holding her tightly as he began to thrust in earnest, she knew she wouldn’t last long.

“That’s it,” Torrin urged her, watching her with a hungry gaze under the moonlight.

Valora could only imagine the sight she made—her body bare, her breasts bouncing with every thrust of his hips.

But just as Torrin couldn’t take his eyes off her, she couldn’t take her own off him.

Under the wan light of the moon, he looked as though he was carved from marble, his skin pale and dotted with silver scars.

“Let go, me love. I wish tae feel ye fall apart around me.”

Those words, along with a few more well-timed thrusts, were all it took for Valora to reach her peak, her pleasure coaxed out of her.

Now, she had to be the one to press a hand over her mouth to silence herself as she screamed in ecstasy, wave after wave of joy coursing through her body.

As she clenched around Torrin, her walls pulsing in a familiar rhythm, it didn’t take him long to follow her, spilling over her thighs with a pleasured grunt that rumbled right through her.

“I think,” she whispered after a long stretch of lying there, quietly panting, “that I’ve never felt more alive than I dae right the now.”

Torrin kissed the top of her head as he settled next to her on the blanket, pulling her into his arms. “Then we should dae this more often.”

Valora couldn’t help but laugh softly, curling into him. Wrapped in each other’s warmth, they lay there in peace for a while, simply enjoying the quiet of the night and each other’s company, until the chill proved too much.

“Come back with me,” Torrin whispered.

She nodded.

Together, they dressed and slipped down from the barrack roof, and returned through the quiet halls, the blanket still around her shoulders. They reached their chamber, their steps slow, their hearts settled.

She curled against him once more in bed, and this time, sleep found her.

Dawn broke gently over Halberry Castle, the first morning light seeping through the mist. In the great hall below, the castle was already alive—footsteps echoing, voices hushed with purpose, the distant clang of preparations underway.

But in Torrin’s chambers, there was the stillness that came with them being occupied by a single, sleeping person.

Valora stirred in the great bed, the warmth of sleep chased away by a knock at the door.

She sat up, the blanket falling from her bare shoulders, her body aching pleasantly from the night spent on the barrack roof—and the hours that followed.

Her hand ghosted over her lips in memory of the kisses she had shared with Torrin before she stood, gathering the robe left folded across the bedpost.

Belatedly, she realized two things; one, it was her wedding day and two, Torrin was nowhere to be seen.

It was odd, waking up to an empty bed after so many days of having Torrin next to her, but she supposed that perhaps he had things to take care of before the wedding—security, for one, had to be strict, and Valora suspected he would want to oversee the preparations himself.

The door creaked open as she tied it at her waist.

“Good mornin’, Valora!” chirped Daisy, entering with a smile and an armful of fabric. Two maids followed behind her, arms full of pins, combs, and delicate lace. “Forgive us, but it’s time.”

Valora managed a nervous smile, one hand instinctively rising to her curls. “Already?”

“Already,” Daisy said, eyes bright but soft with understanding. “Torrin’s been up since afore dawn, runnin’ around the castle like a madman an’ he has poor Noah runnin’ around with him.”

“An’ ye?” Valora asked, suspicious of Daisy’s energy. Surely, she too had to have been awake for a long time, and Valora couldn’t help but think Torrin had dragged her into it as well.

“An’ me,” said Daisy with a small shrug. “But it’s fine, I dinnae mind. When I wed, I’ll make sure tae wake him afore dawn, too.”

Valora laughed, but she also felt a tug behind her ribs—a strange sensation, one that left her gasping for air for a brief second at the thought of what was to come.

She nodded once and moved toward the mirror, letting the women begin their work, but in her mind, all she could think about was how she had dreaded this moment for so long and now it was here.

There was no dread behind her anticipation—only joy that she would get to marry the man of her dreams.

She sat still while the maids worked pins through her hair and laced the embroidered gown tight at her ribs. The fabric shimmered with silver threads, delicate and artfully embroidered on her sleeves and bodice.

Now, dressed and luminous in the soft morning light, she stood before the looking-glass, heart thrumming. The maids finished fussing over her, curtseying before they slipped out in a flutter of quiet shoes and nervous energy. Daisy lingered longer, smoothing a wrinkle at Valora’s waist.

“I’ll go check the chapel,” she said gently. “See if the bell has rung. Ye’ve a few minutes yet.”

Valora nodded, drawing a steadying breath. “Thank ye, Daisy.”

Quietly, Daisy slipped out of the room. Alone now, Valora looked at her reflection in the looking-glass. A stranger seemed to stare back at her—so elegant, so composed. But beneath the silk and pinned curls, her heart beat too fast.

It was a mask she was used to wearing. She always refused to show any kind of weakness, anything that others could take advantage of if they so wished.

Even now, in the safety of Clan Gunn and its people, she did her best to always appear composed and calm, the perfect picture of a learned lady.

And yet, her inner turmoil seemed to have no end today of all days, and Valora couldn’t help but wish that Althea was there with her, giving her ceaseless support.

Just as she made her way to the window, there came another knock on the door. Valora turned, expecting Daisy’s familiar face, but instead, the door opened to reveal a boy no older than ten, his hair damp with sweat, his tunic the plain brown of a kitchen servant.

“Beggin’ pardon, me lady,” he said, breathless, eyes wide. “The chapel’s ready. They sent me tae fetch ye.”

She blinked in surprise, thrown for a moment by his presence. Had Daisy sent the boy? Was she caught up with something that didn’t allow her to return to fetch her?

“Ye?”

“Aye, I’m tae bring ye the back way. Said the hall’s full an’ there’s nay room tae pass decent-like. The servants are still setting’ up fer the feast.”

It made sense that the servants would still be setting up for the wedding, since they had had so little time to prepare. Valora took a deep breath, steeling herself. The time had come and soon, she would be done with all this and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything else going wrong.

“Very well,” she said, lifting her skirts slightly. “Lead on.”

The boy moved quickly through the corridors, and Valora followed. At first, the route seemed familiar—narrow halls used by staff, winding behind the main chambers. But soon the turns became sharper.

She slowed. “Is this truly the way tae the chapel?”

“Aye,” the boy said too quickly. “Just down here. It’s a shortcut we use sometimes.”

But the walls had changed. The stone here was older, rougher. Damp. Not the pale grey of the keep’s heart, but dark and unmarked by torches. Her footsteps echoed too loudly. No sounds of music or bells reached her ears.

The corridor narrowed. At the end of it, the door led outside and for a moment, Valora was reassured. But the more she looked around her, the more she realized the chapel was nowhere to be seen.

She stopped dead in her tracks, her heart jumping to her throat. “Wait?—”

But it was too late. A shadow detached from the stone behind her, moving fast, before she could even understand what was happening.

Before she knew it, pain bloomed behind her eyes, sudden and sharp like a crack of lightning.

Within moments, the world tilted, then vanished, her vision going fuzzy at the edges and then completely, utterly dark.