But the need to make amends overcame her sense of her pride. Moving into his body before she could talk herself out of it, Lilith grabbed Giles by the shoulder and swung him around.
“Lilith, what are—”
Slamming her lips to his, she thanked him the only way she knew how.
With a kiss.
The sky was a shade of lavender that hinted at the coming of the rising sun. Giles had been unable to sleep all through the night. His emotions had been all over the place. Going between anger at her for running off as she had and placing herself in such a precarious predicament, yet again, to stunned by the ferocity of her kiss.
The woman had moved on his body in a way he’d never known before. He was no saint; he’d whored aplenty. Especially after battle, with the adrenaline still pumping, he’d sought release in the body of many a soft female.
But he wasn’t used to what she’d shown him last night. Boldness. Sensuality. A fierce wildness that could only stem from her being part wolf.
She lay on her side beside the banked fire he’d stoked throughout the night. Her lips slightly parted, puffing out a gentle breath of air every so often. Looking almost sweet and innocent, even though her face was once more lined with wrinkles and marred by brown liver spots.
Though she’d turned herself back to her crone form when they’d returned to camp, he had no problem picturing her as she truly was. A lush woman with bee-stung lips and keen blue eyes, inky black hair that spilled like a silky wave down her svelte back.
His lips twitched recalling her standing on the shore beside the dragon’s waters, holding the opal in her fist up toward the sky. With the wind moving through her hair and her red cloak flapping like a banner behind her, she’d defied the dragon’s fury like a shield maiden ready for battle.
In some ways he felt like he knew her. She was reckless, willful, and prideful—just as her mother had said.
But perhaps he wasn’t giving her enough credit. Perhaps she was more than those things. She was certainly beautiful, but beauty went only skin deep.
For Giles it’d always been about what lied beneath the surface, what made her tick, made her who she was. Who was she really?
Never in all the millennia that he’d served Rumpel had he ever wondered why a supplicant came to his prince. It’d never been any of his business.
It’d only ever been about serving his prince as his fealty required, asking no more beyond that.
She gave a tiny whimper and shifted, rolling onto her back. Soon she’d wake and they’d resume their trek, he could have woken her hours ago, but she’d seemed so exhausted when she’d lain down that he hadn’t had the heart to do it, trying to give her every last precious minute they could spare.
As if sensing she was being watched Lilith’s lashes fluttered and then deep blue eyes gazed back at him. She stared, saying nothing for the longest time, and though her scrutiny was intense, it didn’t unnerve him.
“Good morning,” he finally rumbled.
“You look like hell,” she said, but tempered her words with a soft smile.
Running his fingers through his hair again, he nodded. There were so many words to be said, questions to be asked. He’d thought long and hard on them last night but now wasn’t the time.
Making her way wearily to her feet, she dusted off the cloak she’d been sleeping on and wrapped it around her shoulders. Each of her movements was slow and measured. To an outsider she would in truth appear and move like the withered crone she seemed, but an observer would know the reality if they only took the time to look into her eyes, to see into the window of her youthful soul.
“Last night I spotted a blueberry and walnut grove on our way here. We could backtrack a few paces,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “get breakfast, and then be off again.”
“Sounds good, knight. Let me get my morning ablution done and we can go.”
He stepped forward and held out a hand. “You’re not going to the river alone.”
Expecting her to put up a fight as she had last night, he was surprised when she nodded and waited for him to come to her side before heading off toward the waters.
A twig snapped beneath her sandaled foot as she said, “I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
“There is nothing to say.”
“No.” She stopped and grabbed his hand, quickly releasing it when he turned toward her. “There is.” She fisted her pendant, wearing a look of entreaty in her deep blue eyes.
Giles was afraid that if he opened his mouth now he’d say something he’d regret. He’d either chastise her again or he’d snap. His emotions were still too close to the surface, too confusing to him.
“No. Not now.”
“Then when? When is a good time for me to say I’m—”
Gently he placed his finger over her lips. The wind carried her scent on the breeze, a mixture of warm earth and fresh pine.
Grabbing his finger with her delicate hand, she gave the tip of it a tiny little lick. His body trembled.