𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 | 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒

ততততত

𝐓 𝐎 𝐁 𝐈 𝐍

I bought myself some time.

You see, I might have told Gareth about the passageways, but I purposefully fucked the routes up so horrendously that he'll have no idea how to even enter. Imogen gave me her trust to never reveal the secret of Ruslan, and for now, I decided to keep the knowledge of him hidden. Still, it felt like a betrayal to her as I sketched each line on the map she fixed for me. The mistake of choosing Imogen for one night won't save us when daylight dawns.

It's a selfish choice to make considering Aspen is out there trapped under Leighton's reign, but Imogen's snuck her way under my skin and forged a burrow in my heart. I can't get rid of her. When I close my eyes, she still lingers. Her kiss. Her touch. Her goddamn vanilla scent. I know whatever ribbon wraps me to her will undo with time, but I'm not ready to be the one to fracture her. Not yet.

I find her in her bedroom sitting in front of her vanity. A hairbrush grooms through her moonlit blonde waves. Through the mirror, her lips curve upward as she catches sight of me sneaking into her bedroom chamber. Those grey moons spy on me as she slowly pulls a silky lock of hair through the bristles of the brush, the movement fluid with grace.

Last night's events hang in the air between us—stolen kisses and untold truths. Neither of us speak, although I long to hear that sweet melodic giggle of hers, the one that can always make me break into a smile.

I wander to the hearth to add more wood when her voice echoes through the room.

"Leighton's underpants are hanging in the throne room," she says nonchalantly. "According to Lorcan, they can't find a way to get them down."

It takes a second for me to process what she just said. Leighton's underpants are... hanging in the throne room?

"What the fuck did you just say?" I ask. Surely I heard her wrong.

Imogen places her brush down on the vanity, then makes her way towards the flickering firelight. She wears that goddamned silk night dress that sways around her legs. There's this devilish smirk on her glossy lips, one that I have to restrain from uncontrollably kissing. Last night, the moonglow she possesses—that light that burns in her, had almost been extinguished. But now? She's illuminating, so bright that not even the sun could compare.

"I said that Leighton's underpants are hanging in the throne room," she steps into my proximity, lacing her hands around my waist. She pulls on my shirt until our two bodies are completely flushed. "Right above the archway for everyone to see."

"And who was responsible for that?" I grin, leaning towards her lips. I just need a taste, a small miniscule taste of that heavenly moonlight.

She presses her fingertip to my eager lips to stop me. "Just a certain princess who a petty thief told was a weapon."

"I am not a petty thief," I whisper against her cheek.

"You are the pettiest—" she murmurs. Delicate fingers undo the scabbard around my waist, and the sword hits the wooden floor with a thud. "—most predictable—" her fingers sneak beneath my shirt, nails scraping against toned muscled planes and hidden scars. "—thief to sneak into my bedroom."

A pleasant hum escapes me at the feel of those soft dainty fingers gracing my skin. Ever slowly, she begins to lift my shirt upward, unveiling my abdomen for her grey moons to see in full glory. A storm overcomes them, one so dark and full of desire that it could tear me down with one gust.