Page 36 of Caroline the Cruel
The dagger burned hot in his pocket as she fed him another treat. Angus was due back tonight. His stomach flipped as he replayed what he needed to do in his mind.
He took the tray of sweets from her and set it to the side. Johnneth couldn’t remove his eyes from her mouth and without thinking he raised his hand, cupping her cheek and a thumb was brushing against it. Her breath caught, but she leaned into his touch.
Johnneth could hardly breathe, his lungs seizing as he leaned his head dangerously close to hers. Caroline didn’t pull away, though. He prayed to the Gods he wasn’t about to foil everything and ate the last bit of distance between them, bringing their lips together in the gentlest way possible.
He wasn’t sure if she’d shuddered or if it was him, but her mouth was so soft and inviting. He leaned in to deepen the kiss ever so slightly, terrified of scaring her off.
Caroline jerked back and covered her lips with her hand. A deep flush had taken root on her cheeks and a wave of horror flashed through him. Oh no, she’d only been taunting him. The queen had never had any intention of taking anything further with him—he’d misplayed his hand. Five years of his life, and in a blink, he’d messed up everything.
“Caroline—I mean Your Majesty, I’m so sorry,” he begged.
“Shhh, Johnneth. Not here, okay? Roskide is full of prying eyes.” Caroline grabbed his hand, dragging him from the room.
Caroline knew it. The spark was there. Whatever was building between them had been the same for him, too, and when his lips had touched hers, it was like nothing she’d ever felt before. He’d been so gentle, timid even. Like his greatest concern in the world was her reaction. Gods, he was so beautiful and caring. Maybe those five ethereal demons didn’t hate her after all, and the gift of this man was going to make up for all her suffering. She could only hope. Her heart squeezed, then thundered as she dragged him in the direction of her suite.
It was only chemistry, but with time, their banter might become so much more. She’d never felt such attraction and easy companionship with anyone. And she believed he felt it, too. When they were alone in her suite, away from the eyes of Roskide, she was hoping he’d kiss her again, igniting the wildfire that had eclipsed all reason.
Johnneth could barely center his thoughts as he followed her back to her rooms.Now. He had to do it now. He didn’t know what he was deathly close to—he just knew it was something he’d never felt before and that it was looming before him for the taking. In the darkened hallways, he slipped the dagger from the hidden compartment and into his back pocket.
They were both breathless as they slipped through her doors, and she turned to him giddy, like she’d found out the juiciest secret. The joy on her face only made her that much more beautiful. And it wasn’t only desire in her eyes. That on a woman, he would easily recognize. There was something else in her that was urging to be discovered.
It was a delicate balance he was waging now between his body and his mind. Firelight illuminated the woman before him, and he had to kiss her again. Not fuck her, or make love to her, just kiss her. That would be enough.
She stood still, watching him through wide-open eyes, waiting, giving him space to decide where to take this next. Her chest pumped up and down, betraying any calm she hoped to project.
Every step toward her was an eternity, like wading through thick mud, his legs becoming jelly with each step. Johnneth didn’t know what was coming over him as he stared down at the queen, but it was so overwhelming it was almost painful.
Silver rimmed eyes with a faint glow at the edges beamed up at him, beckoning him to her. An image flashed through his mind, turning his blood to ice, and he had to use every ounce of his self-control not to let it slide across his features. The only other eyes that glowed from within like that were those of his family. The image of his father taking his own life, forced by her own father’s power, sprung to the front of his mind. Gripping on to the memory like his life hung in the balance, he lowered his mouth to hers.
Caroline sensed the briefest moment of hesitation before his lips touched hers. Warmth flooded through her body, radiating not from below her belly, but from her chest. This was it, the spark she’d been waiting for. As Johnneth gave her the gentlest of kisses she thanked the Gods she’d never given into Angus’s prescription that she should find a husband. Had she followed his advice, she’d have never found this, whatever was blooming between her and the most sinfully gorgeous man she’d ever laid her eyes upon.
His hand slid around her waist and ran slowly up her back, eliciting the best tingling sensations. Caroline was getting lost in every touch, every drawn-out nibble he placed on her lips. Johnneth nudged her mouth open with his tongue and her lips parted. Rapturous vibrations clouded every thought as she let him fully consume her, knowing his trembling meant that every sensation of hers was the mirror to his.
It was…painful. A sharp shooting pain tore her from the fantasy she was lost in. Someone attacked them while they were distracted. No, this was not how this was supposed to happen. Caroline peeled her eyes open and darted her awareness around the room, searching for the assassin. If she could get her awareness on them, this would be over.
But no one was there. Prickly panic flared, momentarily blurring her vision. It was only her and Johnneth. It couldn’t be. Caroline’s eyes flew to his. They were as wide as hers. Their heads simultaneously tracked down to her waist where a ruby-colored wooden dagger protruded, his nimble hand wrapped around its hilt.Rosenwood.A full blade made from the material was lodged in her flesh, right beneath her ribs.
Everything was a burning agony lashing out from her chest cavity. She wasn’t sure what hurt more, her heart or the deadly wound inflicted upon her by the man who she thought might be the one.
He staggered back as if he were unable to believe he’d done it. Her eyes narrowed and she bared her teeth. She grabbed the dagger he’d embedded within her wincing as she gave it a testing tug. It was too painful to rip out. Red flashed across her vision, and she lunged forward, unleashing her rage. The tips of her nails dug into his forearms, dragging bloody red lines behind them. Johnneth shoved her back, and she slipped on a puddle of her own blood and her hip cracked on the stones.
As Caroline scrambled to her feet, two sensations hit her. The tingling that came on the wind before the Gods took her away and the chill that zipped through her when she’d mingled her blood with another’s.
She had seconds before she was gone. Caroline would be back. She’d get the Gods to heal her, to save her life. Then she’d be back to deal with this traitor.
Her lips drew into a cruel slash as she felt the compulsion take hold.
Chapter 12
Therewassomethingaboutthe look on the queen’s face that had made all his instincts scream,Flee!He couldn’t believe Caroline had vanished. He couldn’t believe he’d done it. He’d killed her. She would have been dead within moments, but they’d taken her before he could confirm it.
Her face as she’d realized what he’d done, the horror, was an image he would see on repeat, burned into the deepest recesses of his mind for the rest of his life. He should be feeling grateful that he didn’t even have a body to clean up. If he ran into Angus, before he fled Roskide, he’d be able to explain her disappearance easily. As he stood there trying to calm his aggravated heart, he couldn’t bring himself to feel thankful for his stroke of luck. Instead, a trembling hollow ache was blooming in his chest around the fear.
Johnneth’s heart thundered, and he was hardly able to draw in a breath as he surveyed the room. Step one, ignore the conflicting sensations at war within his mind. Step two, take care of this mess—her bloodwhich pooled in a small circle at his feet. He rushed to clean the still warm liquid from his hands and the floor, and threw the rags into the fireplace, which they kept burning in her rooms at all hours this time of year. A dread he couldn’t shake soaked his mind as he watched to make sure there wasn’t a crimson stained fiber left in the hearth.
Satisfied, he’d filled a glass goblet with wine, then dropped it on the floor, allowing it to splash his trousers, staining them for an alibi. He sniffed the air, hoping it had masked the metallic scent of her blood, which still lingered. Once he was convinced he covered his tracks, he slipped from her room and hurried down the corridor heading in the direction of the attendant’s section of the castle.
He threw together a quick pack of rations and stole a cloak which had been discarded in a storeroom. A few more flights of stairs and he’d made it to the entrance on the lowest level the attendants used reporting for duty. He nodded to the guards, who recognized him immediately. “Night off,” he said, and passed through the door.
