Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
I haven’t decorated much, because deep down I hope the Lord of the Nocturne Court will end my banishment prematurely. The new plan of going to Boston makes that seem like a good choice. Still, I like to be in control of my fate and will establish with Mrs. Moor that I shall come back after my trip. After all, it’s good to have a plan to fall back on, if the best possible outcome does not happen.
I climb over the bed to reach the window. For a moment, I worry that Hawk might have given up on me, but he emerges from behind the shed where Mrs. Moor keeps the lawn mower she insists I use once a week at least, transforming the grass into a uniform carpet resembling what I can see in all the neighbors’ gardens.
Moonlight, is that man big! He might be the tallest and broadest person I have ever met, which is intimidating but also does something funny to my insides. I ignore the insistent sensation and wave at him, prompting him to approach the tree. The leaves growing level with my window shake, as if a beast was using the trunk as a back scratcher, but moments later his eyes meet mine, and he swings his foot through my window, already leaning over the emptiness separating him from safety.
Does this man have a death wish?
I hold back a yelp and grab his hand to save him from falling were he to wobble. But his life must be worthless to him, because he pushes his other leg away from the tree and grabs the side of the open window, pulling himself in.
Unbelievable! If he fell down and died, his shadow would be lost forever!
My heart is beating out of my chest, yet he just gives me a cocky grin.
“Mrs. Moor is sleeping downstairs, so we must refrain from loud noises,” I say, all too aware he has not let go of my hand.
His fingers are so long, so thick, and the meat of his palm—almost as hot as his tongue was. He towers over me like a bear standing on two legs, and when he sweeps me close, I sense the fresh sweat and laundry detergent, my whole body pulses.
“So… where is your shower, my princeling?”
“Oh… I do not mean to be unaccommodating, but after a whole afternoon and evening surrounded by greasy fried foods, I must wash, and Mrs. Moor might notice if two showers are taken. She startles awake sometimes, and we cannot rouse her suspicions.”
I glance down at his knuckles, once more wondering if the stains are dried blood. He ate with those hands though. Surely this is just my imagination playing tricks on me because of my worry-prone disposition.
He removes his baseball cap, releasing a flood of thick, dark brown hair that reaches a bit past his shoulders. It’s frizzy, likely from being stuffed under the hat without much care, but I barely keep in a whine of appreciation, because the locks somehow make him appear even more handsome. Beastly. Which I shouldn’t like. But I do.
“Let’s shower together,” he says, startling me into a stupor.
My finger reaches my teeth but as soon as I realize I’m about to nip on it, I stuff it into my pocket. He cannot see how nervous he makes me with his casual suggestions.
“T-together…” I repeat, desperate to give myself more time to think.
Hawk hums, and as he takes a step toward me, I cannot resist falling into his eyes. They’re green, like a field full of moss and fern and flecked by lightning bugs. “Yeah. It would be only fair for me to see what I’m getting in this bargain, since you already got to assess my shadow,” he says with a confident smirk.
My brain is overheating, then melting, because he’s right. I owe this to him.
But I don’t even have a servant dress me at the Nocturne Court because of how inadequate I feel in my body. My older brother never spared me any mockery. He might have been a reed, where Hawk is a sprawling oak, but he was tall, elegant, wide-shouldered. Me? I am a frail branchlet, broken off from the grand Goldweed tree prematurely.
I stare into Hawk’s eyes without blinking. He doesn’t seem set on humiliating me, and he kissed me with the fervor of a man on his wedding night, so…
I take a deep breath and grab his hand. I must be brave. I owe this to the Goldweed name. “Let us do so,” I say and pull him along.
I can’t remember ever being this aware of another man’s presence, but Hawk’s closeness burns me even in all the places where we’re not touching. He is surprisingly quiet for someone of his size, but the moment I lock the door behind us, revealing the white tiles covering every bit of wall and floor, nervousness replaces the worry that we might be overheard.