The moon hung low, casting a soft silver glow over the king's private garden.
The king stepped into the quiet space. "There you are," he whispered, spotting her by the fountain, standing barefooted. "What are you doing out here alone?"
"Missing you and hoping you will come here."
He wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Forgive me, my love," He said. "I had no choice but to accept the duel. It was the only way to make your place beside me unquestionable in my grandfather's eyes."
Her body softened against his, the warmth of his embrace grounding.
"I know," she said.
Then he gently turned her in his arms, tilting her face up to his. Their eyes met for a heartbeat, heavy with unspoken words, before he pressed his lips to hers.
It was the kind of kiss that stole her breath. He didn't rush, it was slow, as if memorizing every inch of her, savoring her like a man reunited with his mate after too many days apart.
