Why is her hair up? he thought, almost dazed. She always wears it down. She should know what that will do to me…
The exposed skin caught the light in a way that made it impossible to look away. He imagined pressing his lips there, trailing kisses down to the hollow of her collarbone, feeling her shiver beneath him. Gods, he imagined far worse—his teeth grazing that perfect skin, biting just enough to draw a gasp from her lips.
Alaric's jaw flexed as he swallowed, guilt and hunger battling somewhere in his chest.
She was so unguarded like this. So utterly beautiful it hurt. And he wanted—oh, he wanted far too much.
Before his mind could spiral further into places it shouldn't, he moved forward, silent as the predator he was, the soft crunch of gravel under his boots the only sound marking his approach.
Salviana didn't turn; she didn't seem to hear him at all. Her gaze was still locked on the flowers, her fingers trailing lazily along a blooming rose.
