My jaw shook, my mouth open, crying out inside for his to touch mine. But he closed his eyes and scrolled his lips along my jaw, letting his warm breath fall heavily against my neck.
“Bite me,” I said, tilting my chin, opening the longing of my skin to his teeth. “Bite me, and then make love to me.”
His hand rose to my collarbones, and he clenched his fist above my flesh, hesitation stalling his desires.
“Please, Jase?”
Without looking away, he opened his hand and smoothed it down my throat, between my br**sts and over my stomach. I felt him—felt the touch against my bare skin, as if there was no dress there. “I have no right to you,” he whispered, his nose to mine.
“And I have no right to want you,” I breathed, closing my eyes.
When I opened them again, light filled the room and a shock of ice washed through me, leaving me half naked, covered only by silk and the scent of my husband. I sat bolt upright, clutching the sheet to my br**sts, covered in blood, confused—so confused, and so, so alone. A cool breeze brought a faint hint of a rainy day, making me feel stony and out of place. I looked over at the rose on my nightstand, my heart pounding in my throat, easing when I touched the thornless stem.
I laid down again, sinking into the feathers of my pillows as they rose up around my cheeks, and my dark hair tickled my nose. Images of my dream flashed in my mind, forcing my eyes shut for each brush of his lips across my skin, hold my breath for each time I felt the desire to be in his arms. And then David's face came to mind; the way he looked down at me as he slipped inside me; the way he smiled when he gave my body another chance to create life from his; the way he kissed my lips so softly, lingering for just a little longer than usual, before he left me.
And the scent of the rose became the memory jerker to my confusion. I rolled over and tucked my knees to my chest, folding the petals of the rose down, one by one.
By the time the smell of pancakes came wafting in with the morning heat, there were no petals left on the flower. I wiped a stream of tears from my cheek and climbed out of bed. I needed to talk to someone. I needed to sort this out in my head, but I couldn’t do that alone. I just needed someone who understood that I loved David, but dreamed of his brother.
Chapter Six
I had to stop and ask several people directions to the entrance to Lilith’s garden. Everyone seemed to know exactly where it was, but not really how to get in. I’d seen the wall that bordered it from my balcony, but could never see inside—the gardens hidden under the pinks of cherry blooms and the greens of leafy trees. I knew there was definitely a garden behind this wall, but just couldn't find the damn door.
“You need the key.” Arthur materialised beside me.
I pulled my hand down from the small stones of the wall and looked up at him; we were shaded from the sun here, the shadows making the day cool, but Arthur looked a little hot; his collar moist, his hair sticky around his brow.
“What have you been up to?” I asked.
He wiped a hand across his face. “Nothing.”
Okay, I’ll let that one slip. “So, I need a key?”
“Yes.” He took my hand and led me along the wall to a section hidden just inside the Forest of Enchantment.
“Should we be in here?”
“Yes, my dear, it is the only entrance to Lilith’s Garden.”
“Oh. So, how do you know? Have you been there before?”
“Not since it was finished.”
“Finished?”
“Mm.” He nodded, using his hand to brush aside a thick mass of vines, growing over the wall from the garden. “I helped Drake plant many of the trees.”
“Wow.”
He smiled, then let go of my hand to bend down, standing again with an iron key in hand. “Your key.”
“Why was it in there?” I looked down as he covered the wall with the vine again.
“There’s a nook beneath these vines. The key has been there, in plain sight, for some hundreds of years.”
I held the key up to the small column of light shining in through the tops of the trees. “Where’s the door?”
He laughed, stepped back a little, then cast a straight arm further down the wall—deeper into the forest.
I gulped. “Will you walk me to it?”
“I will,” Morgaine said, popping up out of nowhere, linking arms with me. “After all, I have a private invitation.”
Arthur bowed his head, then turned and started in the direction we came.
“You ready to see your garden, Majesty?” Morgaine practically hugged my arm.
“Yes. Very ready.” I didn't even need to tell my feet to move. “So, what’s up with Arthur today?”
“What do you mean?” She looked over her shoulder to where he’d walked away.
“He was…less than presentable. That’s not like him.”
She shrugged. “Maybe he’s just not coping with being here.”
“Here? At the manor?”
“Mm-hm.”
“Why?”
“Because of Arietta.”
“Oh. Right. He did mention that.”
She nodded. “He’ll be okay. He’s just grieving.”
“Still?”
She scoffed. “Vampires feel things eternally, Ara. He’ll never move on from her. Well, maybe if he finds another to love.”
“That's really sad.” I glanced over my shoulder, wishing I could go give him a hug, but we came upon a big set of arched doors then, with iron hinges and a slot just the right size for my new key.
“Care to do the honours?” Morgaine said, letting go of my arm to present the door.
I slipped the key in the lock and, using two hands, turned it stiffly to the right, then the left and to the right again. But nothing happened.
“You need to push,” Morg said.
“Oh.” I gave the door a giant shove with my hand, then the entire right side of my body. It gave way, creaking with protest as it slowly opened. “How long has it been since anyone’s been in here?”
“The gardener comes in a few times a day, but no one except you is allowed in here, and those you personally invite.” She bristled with pride. “I’ve never even seen the inside.”
“Weren’t you here when they built it?”
She shook her head. “It was built when Lilith was a child. I wasn't ‘created’ until about thirty years later.”
“Oh. So, how does the gardener get in here if that door never gets used?”