Updated: Nov 13, 2022
SNOW IN THE TOWER SUMMARY:
I'd been in the tower for far too long.
The only thing that had gotten me through it was the memory of a creature I'd seen in the woods once.
A creature like me.
A memory of the most striking wolf.
Those thoughts kept me from the cruel reality of the suffering I endured at the hands of my guards.
Only the proposal of the mage that kept me there would grant me my freedom. He wanted the only thing I had left to give. And I was desperate for the taste of freedom.
For the chance to see my wolf again...
Huntsman had sensed me the moment I was out of the tower and the mage, Lukas was no longer hiding my power.
Even as I’d escaped, he’d been coming for me.
He met me in the bailey and together we left the nightmarish place that had caused me so much torment.
But now I face another daunting problem.
This creature wants me for his mate. But I’m spoiled now for any male. Especially the one I want most…
Lukas turned me around and plucked at the laces at the back of my dress, until it slumped forward. He guided them dress down until he crouched at my feet.
I stepped from the garment, and he rose to stand above me. Setting his helmet down on my cot.
He hovered his hand out above the bedding and it was replaced with fluffy, immaculate white sheets and coverlet. Looking incredibly inviting in their cleanliness. Standing before me he reached to unwind bits of my hair that held a loose braid. Untethering it and pulling the thick pieces free to fall in fat waves over my narrow shoulders. He trailed his two fingers along the upper swells of my pert little breasts. Following the curve around near my armpits and to the upper lines of my ribcage before drawing them together in my cleavage.
The gentle touch nearly brought tears to my eyes, after so many rough instances of groping.
He trailed that same fingertip along the side of my jaw and down the line of my throat to the defined bones of my collar.
“So, beautiful…” He murmured thoughtfully. “Won’t Huntsman be sad.”
I frowned. Huntsman?
I didn’t want to call him out on the slip of the tongue, for fear he’d be more careful as the night wore on.
He tugged his chainmail over his head and followed his tunic. Setting it all in a stack near my cot. He had muscled white shoulders tapering to a narrow, flat abdomen. His blonde hair disheveled from the helmet he so often wore.
“Lay down for me, Snow.” I did. Lying flat on my cot and looking up at him a bit anxiously.
He chuckled. “No.”
He caught my legs and twisted me until I was brought against the edge of the cot. My shoulder blades resting along the stone wall. He knelt between my knees and slowly lifted himself from his breeches. Watching me for any hint of reservations.
I had none.
I want the chance of freedom. And a part of me hoped that if he was watching so carefully for some hint that I’d back out then he intended to honor our agreement.
I didn’t dare consider the possibility that this would all be for naught.