Page 94 of The Wolf Prince

“I really hate that thing.”

“What thing?”

“Your eyebrow.”

His mouth twitches. Then he lifts my hands and presses his lips to my knuckles.

“You're beautiful.”

The joke I was about to make dies in my throat. Because he doesn't say it casually. He says it like a fact.

Like gravity.

Like sunrise.

Like there is absolutely no room for debate.

Heat crawls up my cheeks.

“You don't have to⁠—”

“I don’t have to. But it’s true.”

His gaze travels over me.

Slowly.

Possessively.

And for once, I don't want to cover anything.

I want him to look.

Goddess, help me, I want him to see every curvy inch.

“Still sure?” he asks.

There's that question again. I love that he asks it.

This man could probably intimidate armies.

Servers run at his beck and call—I’ve seen it.

He opens locked doors with magic.

His eyes freaking glow.

And yet right now, he’s waiting for me to decide.

I nod.

“I’m very sure.”

Something inside him snaps.

Like the last thread of restraint finally breaks.

He kisses me again. Hard. Hungry.