Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“Say your vows,” he grated.
“What vows?” I wobbled and fell into him with a laugh. Rather than bounce back, I slithered all over him. “Be honest. You were designed in a lab, weren’t you?”
Murmurs of shock rose from the guests. A murmur of shock rose from the current me, too, because that sounded exactly like something I’d say. What if her body hadn’t retained an echo of the memory? What if I’d actually lived it?
Was it possible? Had I, Elizabeth, spoken vows to him? Had Isobel and I traded before the wedding?
But that couldn’t be right. Could it?
I tossed and turned on the mattress, my inhalations coming faster. The morning I’d woken up in Isobel’s bed, I’d had no memory of meeting Callen. He’d been a stranger to me. But what if the potion had erased him? Wasn’t like I remembered anything once it had kicked in. What if I was the one who’d married Callen?
The dream continued, the priest shifting, casting the king a what do we do now glance.
Callen clasped my nape and lifted me to my tiptoes, forcing my gaze to meet his. With his head bent and his nose brushing mine, he growled, “You belong to me. Say it.”
“You belong to me,” I purred, and a grin spread.
No. No way I would’ve grinned so confidently. So carnally. But Isobel would. Disappointment coiled around me and squeezed. And suddenly I knew. I had absolutely, utterly fallen for this man. And he desired me, too. Had experienced moments of calm since my arrival. A tidal wave.
But I wanted him as Elizabeth, not Isobel. I needed to…I should…mmm. The most incredible heat saturated my entire being, fragmenting my thoughts. Blood fizzing like champagne, I stretched and blinked open my eyes. Wow, I felt good. Strong and capable of anything. Why did—the mark!
My eyelids popped open. I went still, my heart beating like a war drum. I yanked my hand into the light and frowned. No wound or scar. And yet, Callen had done it. He’d marked me. I hadn’t imagined the cut or the bliss afterward. Or the rapture of his kiss.
From the comfort of the bed, I scrubbed a hand over my face and stared up at the ceiling of our bedroom, ignoring the rest of the world for just a bit longer. We belonged to each other now. We shared an “unbreakable” connection.
Almost.
The heat faded in an instant, leaving me frozen. He’d marked Isobel’s body, bonding husband and wife for life. Maybe I was the one who’d spoken those vows at the wedding, maybe not, but either way, I wasn’t sure it mattered. If I didn’t take the mark with me, she kept it.
What had I done?
That I’d let Callen do it without telling him the whole truth…
He might not forgive me after the switch back. Heck, I might not forgive myself. Had I ruined his life while trying to save my own?
Where was the great king, anyway? I rolled to my side and scanned the bedroom. Morning sunlight filtered through the window to frame him.
He reclined in the same chair he’d occupied last night. Today he sat shirtless, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants. So many muscles. Thora perched in his lap, as cozy as could be. Seeming to have shed ten layers of stress, he stroked her soft fur.
My awareness of him sharpened, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away.
He noticed, his gaze meeting mine. The usual intensity lingered in the depths of his blue eyes, but today he exuded the very calm he’d sought.
“How do you feel?” he asked. Even his tone struck me as lighter.
“I’m a little confused.” I eased upright, locks of hair tumbling over my arms. Wait. I wore a large white T-shirt. A berserker-sized T-shirt. My gaze flipped to Callen.
He flashed a megawatt smile, and my veins heated anew, my every cell aching to be near him. An unstoppable tide of vulnerability flared. Oh, dang. Where were my defenses?
“Did you change me?” I asked as causally as possible.
His smile widened, causing my brain to blip. “Not exactly,” he said. “I dressed you. There’s a difference. You kept muttering about how hot you were and tore off your clothes.”
Heat suffused my cheeks as I remembered the incredible warmth I’d experienced as our blood mingled. I thought I recalled…singing. “I put on a show, didn’t I?”
“You did.” Amusement pulsed from him. He kissed the top of Thora’s head, set her on the floor and stood. “Should I have left you naked, as I preferred?”
“No, no. The shirt was a good choice,” I assured him, trying to look anywhere but his muscled perfection. Or the goodie trail leading to the waist of his pants. Or the bulge—no! bad! I was leering at him.
He smirked as if he heard my thoughts.
Um. I should take another moment to collect myself. “If you’ll excuse me, there’s something I must do right away. And it’s not toilet related.” No, I had not just said that. Mortified, I climbed from the bed and padded into the bathroom. His chuckle followed me.