White Horse Black Nights (The Godkissed Bride, #1)(84)

She comes over and nuzzles my forehead, getting horse slobber all over me. I scoff and wipe it away.

She gives a soft neigh.

“How am I, you ask? Oh, just fucking great. I’m always great. A lone wolf, don’t you know?”

She snorts.

I reach between the bars to scratch her behind the ears. “Okay, you got me. I miss her, too. I guess I got used to the two of you slowing me down. To her scent. It’s like violets—that’s the first thing I noticed about her.”

On some level, I’m aware that I’m drunk and talking to a horse. Utterly ridiculous. But being around Myst calms the black pit that’s been growing in my chest. I close my eyes, pressing my forehead to Myst’s, letting the scent of horsehair take me back to the ride from Bremcote. Those black nights with Sabine.

Gods—it fucking hurts.

I can smell a trace of violets in the air; Sabine must have been here recently, visiting Myst. My heart starts hammering, and my groin twitches as I breathe in that delicate scent. It’s almost overpowering. I could swear it’s getting strong enough to drown me.

Fuck, I downed too much ale . . .

Someone clears their throat behind me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

My eyes snap open. Sabine stands behind me, her hands perched on her hips and a scowl on her pretty face. She’s wearing a lavender gown the same goddamn color as violets. Fucking perfect. It’s an off-the-shoulder neckline, exposing her bare shoulders and the top of her godkiss birthmark. The air stalls in my lungs.

I didn’t think it was possible, but I’d forgotten how beautiful she is.

“Lady Sabine.” I sober up fast, wiping the back of my hand over my mouth. “What are you— Where’s Rian?”

Her hate-filled eyes burn into me hot enough to banish me to the underrealm. She lifts a hand toward the stable entrance. “Just outside. He saw someone he wanted to speak to. He’ll be in shortly.”

I can’t read her tone. Alcohol dulls my heightened senses, makes me just as obtuse as everyone else. I clear my throat. “Have you set a wedding date?”

Her eyes flash hotter. “No.”

I can’t stop my eyes from sliding down her short hair, softened with a braid along the front, to her fine leather riding boots. I swallow hard. “You look well. Has Rian been keeping his hands to himself?”

I wince as soon as the words come out. Stupid, Wolf. Stupid. I bent over backward to make this girl hate me, the last thing I need is for her to know how fucking jealous I am.

Her eyebrows rise at the bold question. “Can’t you tell?” Her voice is edged like a blade. “Can’t you scent him on me? Do I smell like fresh sex?”

My groin tightens at the same time that my jealousy combusts my skin into fire. She’s needling me. I know she is. My sense of smell isn’t so dulled that I would miss the telltale scent if they had fucked. But even knowing this, I suck my teeth, fighting to calm the wave of covetousness that rolls through me.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he had taken you,” I answer evenly. “He’s certainly wanted you long enough.”

Her mask of anger slips long enough to show confusion. “What do you mean? He ignored me the first time we met. The only reason he wants to marry me is because it’s more likely I’ll give him a godkissed child.”

A bitter laugh tears out of me. “Are you serious? You believe that? He came back from Bremcote last year with fire in his eyes. He knew he wanted to marry you the second he saw you. It didn’t have a thing to do with your godkiss. Fuck, he plotted for months to entrap your father in debts so he’d have no choice but to give you to him.”

Her eyes widen—she didn’t know that her father didn’t fall into debt by his stupidity alone. But then her pretty brows furrow. “But Rian never showed any—”

“He runs a gambling empire, Sabine. He knows how to hold his cards closely.”

She goes quiet. The silence stretches between us, only broken by the sound of shovels at the far end of the stable, and the stomp of horses in their stalls. All the fight goes out of me as I bask in her gorgeous presence. What I would give for one more day with her love instead of her hate. I’d find a way to snare the stars and put them on her dinner plate.

Something shoves me from behind, and I stumble forward with a curse. Before I know it, I collide with Sabine, our bodies pushed together. My hands secure her waist on instinct to keep us both on our feet. Her soft curves graze against my harder edges. Her scent bathes me like exotic oils. I feel the beat of her pulse, once so familiar to me that I fell asleep to its soft patters.

I look around to find Myst’s head between the bars. That crazy mare pushed me!

I swear that goddamn horse is smiling.

“Sabine . . . My lady . . . . Forgive me.” With apologies on my lips, I extricate myself from Sabine. It’s so damn hard to let her go. I’d forgotten how perfectly she fit into my arms, like she’s my world and I’m her gravity.

“No, no, it’s alright.” She’s too flustered to berate me as she brushes the wrinkles out of her gown.

It’s at that awkward moment when Rian walks into the stable.

The breath dissipates from my lungs. I’m instantly a paragon of control—not a lovesick drunk at all, oh no—as I give him a tight nod.