The Midwinter Mail-Order Bride (The Dead Lands, #1; Mail-Order Brides, #4)

by Kati Wilde

Lips that he would have given up a kingdom to kiss. Four kingdoms. And sought new kingdoms to conquer and give away, so he might always have another taste.

“A kiss from me?” “Yes.” His eyes narrowed. “Why want something you would only tolerate?” She had said that once. “That was when I didn’t know you. But now it is something I desire.” Her courage faltered slightly when still he didn’t move, and she added on a whisper, “Very much.”

“You did not move fast enough.” His burning gaze shot across the room and met Anja’s. “Only you can give me a wife this night—and I need to bed my bride.” His bride. His bride. The tears Anja had been trying to hold back began pouring down her cheeks.

With a quick glance at Anja, the witch said, “Princess Anja of Ivermere, do you—” “Anja the Wolfkiller,” Kael added. “And the Huntress.” She began again. “Princess Anja of Ivermere, the Wolfkiller, the Huntress, do you pledge yourself to this man and vow to be his faithful wife?” “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Wife,” Kael echoed on a growl, then threw his head back and roared, “Is that bedchamber ready?”

“You have another name that we did not use in the pledging: Anja the Virgin. And while you are still she, my wife, I will be Kael the Gentle and Slow.”

Bemused, Anja asked, “My throne?” “Anywhere you sit will be your throne.” He swept up his bloodied sword and the wet tunic, began cleaning his blade. “I pray my cock will be your favorite.”