One Dark Window (The Shepherd King, #1)

by Rachel Gillig

He glanced down the stairwell. “I’ll never take you there, Miss Spindle. You have my word.”

slid his hand away from mine atop the latch, his warm, calloused thumb snagging over my knuckles. It was meant as a gesture of comfort—a quiet acknowledgment of my fear. And it was.

No sooner had our eyes met—a flash of gray—did I think back to standing against the door in Ravyn’s chamber, his body towering over me, his finger pressed against my lips.

“Make no mistake, she’s beautiful.

Was it the lie that bothered him, pretending to court me? Or was it me he could not stand?

looked at the rose, then back at his face. Trees, that face. Austerity and beauty. An imperfect, breathtaking statue.

I didn’t miss the way Ravyn’s eyes jumped up and down my body. “Much better,” he said, a flush inching up his neck into his cheeks.

His hands, broad and firm, met me at the dip of my waist, resting a moment on my hips. They were warm, his hands. And I caught myself wondering what the calluses along his palms would feel like against my bare skin.

And it pains me to think I might have hurt you. I’m—sorry.” He paused. “Trees, I’m sorry.”

“Is this you pretending, Elspeth?” he said, the tip of his nose grazing mine. “Because if it is…” His breath stirred my eyelashes. “You’re very good at it.” His words moved something in me. The same

My body was screaming, a mindless, impatient call for touch. His touch.

I tried not to look at Ravyn, the memory of last night encasing me, the feel of his hand in my hair—his mouth on mine—still a shadow on my skin. I felt his eyes tracing me.

resisted, Elspeth, because I was already imagining how I might press my finger against your wet lips again, like I had in my room.”

“because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that first night on the forest road.

I had not fit into anyone’s arms like that since childhood. And even then, no one had ever held me so tightly—as if they needed me in their arms as much as I needed to be held. As if nothing else mattered but to hold one another.

wanted it to burn me to pieces—for him to burn me to pieces.

want to be here. With you.”

Had I known they’d be the last words I’d say to him aloud, I might have chosen them differently.