When Ash Falls (London Fairy Tales #4)(55)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

Laughing, Sofia walked into her room and nodded her head. “Thank you, Ana.”

“Don’t thank me just yet.” Ana pulled out a key. “I’m to lock you in here until dinner is brought. I’ll also bring hot water for a bath.”

“Thank you.”

Ana curtsied and left.

After dinner, Sofia’s Royal Guard checked on her numerous times, each of them knocking on her door every few minutes, asking if she needed anything. Finally, she told Cornelius she would be lying down — her head ached.

It was a lie.

One he believed, thank heavens.

But that also meant she had to be even quieter than before.

A loud thump sounded from her balcony.

“Princess! Are you hurt!” Cornelius shouted through the door.

“Er, no.” She jolted from her bed. “I simply fell off my bed.”

“Do you need aid?” More shouting.

“No!” She stifled a giggle as Ash made his way into her room, limping. “I’m quite all right.”

“Sweet dreams, Princess!”

“Must he always shout?” Ash asked in a quiet voice, making his way slowly toward the bed. When he reached it, he sat. “Bloody hell, that was difficult.”

“Did you forget we had an adjoining door?”

“No.” Ash cursed. “And neither did Dominique. While I was bathing, my valet locked it and then gave the key back to The Beast.”

“Horrid little man.”

“Yes, well, you’d be proud. I let him live.”

“Wonders never cease.”

“Didn’t say I was happy about it.”

“You can always shoot Pierce if you get bored,” Sofia teased.

“Ah…” Ash looked up through hooded eyes. “…I knew I loved you for a reason.”

“Glad to be of service.” She curtsied.

Ash let out a pitiful groan.

“Princess!” Cornelius shouted again, causing Ash to wince. “I heard a noise.”

“Breathing, she’s simply breathing,” Ash whispered under his breath.

“I’m sleeping!” she said loudly. “Please leave me be.”

“Apologies, Princess. You were sleeping — quite loudly.”

Sofia rolled her eyes while Ash leaned back on his elbows and winced.

“You’re hurting?” she whispered, sitting next to him, gripping his hand in hers. His hands were rough. She shivered in anticipation of them running over her body.

“Very much so.” Ash angled his head. “You see, I don’t believe I’m capable of being quiet.”

“Quiet?”

“When I make love to you…” he continued. “I’d rather the whole world hear how I felt, than try to stifle my own damn amazement that I’m sharing a bed with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He licked those full lips, stirring her hunger for him. “And, Princess, I do dream about what your scream would sound like — what your body would feel like beneath mine, the trembling, the whimpering — damn, but I want it all, and if I cannot have it tonight, then I will be patient. I will wait until tomorrow.”

Sofia hung her head, disappointment stabbing her in the chest. “So, you scaled the wall for nothing?”

“Of course not.” Ash’s smile was soft. “I scaled the wall to simply hold you.”

“Oh.”

“Come here.”

He didn’t need to ask twice. She fell into his arms, careful to avoid his wounds, and laid her head on his chest.

“This…” Ash sighed. “…is happily ever after.”

“Lying on a bed, clothed, while my Royal Guard listens for heavy breathing?” Sofia teased.

“That…” Ash chuckled. “…and knowing that I shall never have to sleep another night without you by my side.”

Sofia did not really know how to respond to that without crying, so she tucked her head against his neck and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

They fell into a deep sleep, and when she awoke, he was gone, and in his place he had left a shiny apple.

She picked it up, spotting a note placed underneath.

An apple a day…or perhaps an apple every hour, keeps one’s strength, for tonight you will not sleep. Not. One. Wink. —Ash
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

One does not march toward one’s death… but, oh, it would have been a sweet death, to have her in my arms, to make her completely mine. Yes, I would have stood on the opposite end of Dominique’s pistol and smiled — cheerfully accepting my fate. Patience is not a virtue I possess. —The Grimm Reaper

“STOP TWITCHING,” HUNTER HISSED. “Your new bride will think you have fleas.”

“To be fair, he probably does.” Pierce chuckled to Hunter’s left, taking a swig of whiskey.

Ash chose not to respond to either of them; instead, he waited for his wife to make her goodbyes to the rest of the family and managed not to shake his leg like a dog or clap his hands in order to gain her attention.

She made her way toward him, a secret smile forming across her lips when her Royal Guard stopped her. A few cried; some wailed.

“Dear God, you’d think we just had a funeral,” Hunter muttered. “Do you think, gentlemen, that the Royal Guard imagine Ash is going to kill her in bed?”

Ash, again, chose not to respond, though he did clench his fist in preparation to knock some sense into his twin.

Pierce chuckled. “He’s a killer, after all. Oh look, they truly are saying goodbye, as if he’s going to break her in half.”

“Ten years.” Hunter sighed. “He very well may.”

Pierce nodded sadly then removed his hat from his head and pressed it against his chest. “And to think, all he wanted was for a woman to love him, and that very love killed her.”

“Then again…” Hunter sniffled. “Ash may well have a heart attack. The human body can only take so much… tension before it explodes.”

“So young.” Pierce nodded.

“So brave.”

“Bloody hell, I should kill you both,” Ash growled.

“Ah, he speaks,” Hunter announced. “Tell me, do you fear you may enter the marriage bed and simply… faint before you’re able to… perform?”

“No.”

“But…” Pierce held up his hand. “…it is a possibility that the actual act lasts only a few seconds, leaving your poor young bride… upset.”