Guess who's back in the stocking?
That's right, Wolfe's back!
Check out Wolfe's point of view from a pivotal scene in Slumber.
Recommended for readers age 17+
Wolfe's P.O.V. from 'The Hayloft' Scene in Slumber
After I handed Rogan a clean handkerchief to wipe the tears from her pale cheeks, I gazed up into the dark rafters of the hayloft. Her voice echoed in my head over and over again.
Syracen. Her father. Blade in the chest. Syracen. Her mother. The crack of a broken neck. Syracen. Her brother. The slice of a blade across the throat.
I despised my father. Rage and grief flooded me for what he had taken from Rogan. And consequently what he had taken from me. Had he never found her, had he never hunted her, perhaps Rogan would have visited Silvera one day. Our paths may have crossed and I would have just been a charming stranger. Mayhap she would have liked me. Mayhap we’d have had a chance…
I felt my body curl in on itself as any thread of hope I’d been holding onto snapped. “No wonder you hate me,” I choked out.
She was silent a moment and the ache in my chest intensified.
“I don’t hate you.”
My head whipped up at the confession, my eyes searching her face. Her cheeks had grown flush and she was looking at me as she had never before. Her eyes were soft— confused but soft— and just as searching as mine. Hope began to drown out the ache inside of me. I tried to shove it aside, wanting to be certain I’d heard her right before I gave into it again. “You don’t?”
Rogan’s cheeks took on an even deeper shade of red, an adorable flush of color that made her eyes glitter in the low light. “No. I realize now that this person you’ve been, Captain of the Guard, that’s really who you are. I’m sorry I didn’t treat you the way you deserved.”
Elation swept through me. We’d just had a breakthrough? Yes, we’d just had a breakthrough. Feeling a weight fall from my shoulders I relaxed with a small smirk playing on my lips. “I wasn’t exactly charming to you either.”
She laughed softly and I had to stop myself from dragging her into my arms. Rogan had never laughed like that for me before. “You were just reacting in kind.”
I couldn’t believe she was actually making excuses for me. Rogan, making excuses for me? I snorted. “Yes, I suppose I was. It was galling you know. You’re so sweet to everyone else.”
“Sweet, I’m not sweet.”
You’re sweet. You’re delicious. I eyed her mouth hungrily. “You can be.”
I’d embarrassed her. Watching her body language I realized she was aware of me as she had never been before. She was aware of me as a man. Finally.
I chuckled inwardly, enjoying her girlish discomfort as she tried to cover her awareness with an awkward attempt at teasing apology. “You’re a good man, Wolfe.”
Delighted by her sharp turn around, I grinned flirtatiously, the kind of grin that floored young widows and housemaids but had never affected Rogan. Tonight she blushed deeply in response to it and I felt the heat stirring inside of me. “Really?”
She nodded, but turned away, her expression suddenly solemn.
The hope flooded back from whence it came.
What a fool I was to think that just because she no longer thought me a villain she could ever deign to love me. None of this changed who my father was, or what he had done.
As if she sensed my sudden dismay, Rogan asked anxiously, “What?”
“I’m still the man whose father killed yours.”
I studied the play of emotion on her face. I saw the war. My father did kill hers but…
But what, Rogan? I looked closer. Was it possible she could get past it? There was something in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Did she want me as I wanted her?
My skin burned with heat.
Unconsciously, I found myself shifting closer to her, my heat searching out hers. When she tilted her body toward mine, the confession burst forth with a will of its own, “I wanted to kill him, you know,” I told her hoarsely, an image of Kir’s mouth on hers still inciting fury even though I knew the bastard had done it deliberately. Kir had always seen too much, and he’d recognized my feelings for Rogan very quickly and used them against me.
Rogan frowned at me. “Who?”
“Kir.” I huffed, shaking my head ruefully that the blighter had managed to so undo me with a mere kiss to her lips. “I wanted to kill him... when he kissed you.”
She inhaled sharply and I felt the flare of understanding and answering want like a punch in the gut. Yes she understood now. She understood that I wanted her. That I would always want her.
And I was tired of waiting.
Reaching for her my fingers brushed the soft, smooth skin of her neck and tangled in the heavy silk of her hair as I clasped her by the nape of the neck. Rogan gazed up at me, surprise in her huge dark eyes. Her lush lips trembled, the color of passion high on her cheeks. Too much feeling choked me.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Feeling her body quiver, I forced myself to rein in the feeling and when I finally pressed my lips against hers it was an excruciatingly gentle touch of mouth against mouth. I felt close to bursting out of my skin but I was afraid if I moved too quickly, too roughly, it would frighten her away.
“Wolfe,” she murmured against my lips and I smiled at the plaintive tone. “Cruel.”
She thought I was teasing her.
She wanted more?
My patience snapped.
I wrapped my arms around, jerking her tight against me, feeling her warm curves burn me, and I crushed my mouth over hers. I kissed her hard, eager to finally taste her, exhilarated by Rogan’s enthusiastic response. She made an excited little sound in the back of her throat when I touched my tongue to her lips, and then she opened for me and my grip tightened.
She tasted just as I managed.
She tasted just right.
She tasted like mine.
I deepened the kiss, wanting more, my hand cupping the back of her head to keep her pressed to me, and I chased her tongue, willing her to chase mine back. When she didn’t and seemed to falter, understanding slowly made its way past my foggy, lust-filled thoughts.
Rogan wasn’t kissing me back and not because she didn’t want to.
I frowned, confused as I pulled back. She was blushing terribly now, her expression almost fearful, as though she was worried I was disappointed.
She’d never been kissed properly?
Jarek had never kissed her? No other man had kissed her? Which meant no other man had made love to her.
I felt something primal and satisfied flare to life and tried to quell its roar.
I needed her to confirm it. “You’ve never been kissed properly before?”
“But I thought you and Jarek—”
“Me and Jarek, what?” She snapped, her familiar temper flaring to life and exciting me beyond all reason. She’d never been touched? She’d never been touched and she was letting me touch her.
Possessiveness tore through me in a tidal wave. I’d never felt it before for any woman. I’d slept with women knowing I wasn’t the only one warming their beds, but in that hayloft I met a side of me I’d never met before. A side that unsettled me but was undeniable.
A side that might possibly kill any man who thought to warm Rogan’s bed.
And then it suddenly occurred to me that I’d been marching around the palace in a foul mood for months because I thought Rogan was sleeping with Jarek. She’d done a good job of making me believe it, too. A little annoyed I raised my eyebrow at her. “What was I supposed to think? You’re always flirting with him.”
She immediately hit at me and tried to pull away. I couldn’t help but laugh at her half-hearted indignation as I gripped her even tighter to me. “You are the most—”
“I’m glad I was wrong.” I cut her off, feeling her breast brush against my hand. A flood of lust travelled south. “Now kiss me back.”
She jutted her chin out defiantly. “I don’t know how, so maybe we should stop.”
Sweet, adorable, stubborn Rogan. She never liked to feel vulnerable. And I didn’t want her vulnerable. I wanted her alive and on fire. No way in haven were we going to stop. “Not a chance. Just follow my lead, mimic what I do.”
Now that I knew she was a virgin in every way, my kiss was gentle, tentative. When I eventually pressed my tongue into her mouth, I waited, and elation and need cascaded over me when her tongue eagerly chased mine. I groaned into her mouth, pulling her closer. She pushed into me, reaching for a deeper kiss.
We became frantic for one another, our kiss bruising and desperate. I wanted her on her back, I wanted her naked, I wanted her…
She tugged her arms out from between our bodies, the kiss breaking for a mere second, before she threw herself against me, her hands in my hair. At the feel of her breasts flush against my chest, her body sliding against mine, I momentarily forgot everything else.
I pushed her onto her back, our kisses growing rougher, wetter and more out of control. My body pressed into her, my hands squeezing the soft flesh of her waist and hips, desperate to move higher to learn the shape of her breasts, and desperate to reach lower to bring her sweet ecstasy... I couldn’t, I told myself, even as I ground my hardness against her.
Rogan moaned and arched her lower body against mine, seeking more, and I shuddered with raging need. I’d never wanted anyone this badly before and if I didn’t stop I was going to take what she offered.
I jerked away, sucking in some cooling air as I rolled off of her and stared at the ceiling, willing my body to behave. “We have to stop. You drive me crazy, Rogan. You always have.”
She laughed softly. “Well, you took the perfect revenge.”
I turned my head to look at her. Her eyes were still a little wild, her cheeks flushed, and her chest heaving. I’d gotten her all riled up. Good, I grinned feeling a little smug. She’d gotten me all riled up too.
She made a face at me and swatted at me. “Very nice.”
“What?” I laughed, feeling content as I rolled up onto my elbow so I could brush the hair away from her face. I was compelled to touch her despite the temptation. “After spending the last few years panting after you it’s nice to know you want me back.”
The surprise on her face told me she really had been oblivious to my feelings this whole time. I wanted to shake the naivety out of her. “The last few years?”
I laughed in disbelief and pulled her into my arms, tucking her head under my chin. I wanted to hold her while we slept. I wanted to know she was safe here with me, I wanted the reminder that the future was suddenly bright with possibility. Rogan snuggled happily into me and an ache rippled across my chest. Was I dreaming? I sighed as her hand rested on my stomach. We’d have plenty of time to discuss the truth, the past, the misunderstandings. Now was time for a little peace.
“Let’s stop with the questions for now, Rogan. We need to sleep.”
If I needed any more confirmation that Rogan’s feelings for me had definitely changed, it was in the almost immediate rise and fall of her chest as she fell into a deep sleep. She felt safe. She felt at peace. She trusted me.
Tomorrow we’d talk.
Tomorrow was the beginning of ‘us’.