Chapter 52 - Breathe Emma

EMMA

I brush a comb through my long white hair and cover it over the skin that blooms purple below my ear and near my mark.

Hadrian walks into the dressing room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. His muscles look swollen and more defined than usual. There runs a vein over the V near his hips and it disappears under his towel.

His shoulders are sagged and there is sadness in his eyes. It hits me square in the chest. I want to hug him until it all leaves. I want to hold him until everything that has happened is forgotten. I can’t deny that I’m falling hard for my hulking werewolf.

*Who would have thought?*

He looks up and finds me looking at him. “Sorry, I‘ll wait—

“No need, I’m ready anyway.”

I’m wearing the blush-colored chiffon dress that Paulina picked out for me. The sandals have a little heel under them. I walk a little too quickly to the exit and the heel gets stuck behind the threshold. Hadrian catches my wrist and swings me towards him before I fall.

“Are you okay?” The alarm is evident in his voice and he cradles one side of my face with his hand. His other arm is wrapped around my waist to keep me steady.

My heart beats a mile a minute, but the earnestness in his eyes and his touch calms me down.

Yes, he has deep dark desires that were out of control. But when does something go out of control? Only when someone is holding on to his restraint for too long.

One day it snaps.

Yes, Hadrian is a werewolf with exceptional strength and abilities, but he’s human too. Humans are not perfect. Humans make mistakes. And humans lose their restraint when it’s wound too tight.

His eyes move to my neck and hurt clouds in them. He keeps me trapped in his gaze. “Emma, I'm so sorry.”

I reach for his hand. “I’m sorry too.”

Hadrian grimaces. “You should not be apologizing.”

“You got hurt.” I run my thumb over the burn from my necklace.

He shakes his head. “You did the right thing.” I can see the sincerity in his apologetic eyes. He has punished himself more than anyone else could. “If I ever lose myself like that again, then I want you to get those daggers from my office.”

I take his hand in mine and I accept the wave of calm rushing through my body. His burn is already healing.

I cannot avoid this forever. “Why did you do it?” I whisper.

Hadrian looks down at the ground and his eyes refuse to meet mine. “Because a part of me wanted to do all the things I said.”

His truth hangs in the air.

“I too, maybe?” I say as I ponder his words. Heat floods my cheeks when I realize that I spoke out loud.

There is one undeniable fact. He makes me feel good. He makes the hollow in my chest feel whole. He makes my body burn and makes me experience new desires.

Hadrian looks up at me. “What?”

I raise my shoulders and hold the tension in my muscles. “I don’t know. I don’t have much experience, if any.” I release my shoulders. “But a part of me is curious?”

“Emma, I found some coral dahlias, they would color perfectly with your dress.” Paulina sings when she walks into the room.

She has five stems of coral-colored dahlias in her hands. She freezes when she finds me in the embrace of the practically naked crown prince.

Hadrian lets go of me and rubs the back of his neck, which only shows off the stretch of his hard muscles. I burn up to the same color as my dress and I regret the decision to wear the gown.

“I’ll go change,” Hadrian says and turns to the dressing room.

He turns his head my way for a second and there is life back in them or shall I say heat.

His gaze burns a way to my core with a promise of satisfaction.

—————————

Stone bleachers are built around the platform where I watched a man receive a hundred silver whips. Now it looks like an arena where at least a thousand people can sit. The large square in front of the palace is bustling. The streets are filled with food stands. The smell of fried meat hangs in the air. Fire throwers and jugglers are entertaining the kids running around.

I watch Hadrian awkwardly hold the children that mother's hand to him. I watch him accept praise with reluctance.

He hasn’t touched me like he usually does. I didn’t realize how many times he touched me in small ways. My hands, my wrists or adjusting a lock of my hair. Even the guidance on my lower back is gone. There is a distance between us still and the hollow feeling recurs.

I look up at him and find that he’s already watching me.

A sweet sugary smell passes me. I inhale deeply and look around to find its source. In front of one of the food stands a young mother gives her child a square pastry with red powdered sugar. The boy must be about three years old and has rosy cheeks, black hair and gray eyes. His face gets covered in the red powdered sugar when he bites into the pastry.

“What are those?” I ask pointing at the stand that sells these pastries.

"Moon Squares." I’m surprised when I hear Hadrian’s voice so close next to me.

I’m fascinated by the pastry. “They look more like square donuts.”

Hadrian rubs the back of his neck. “They’re pretty good if you like vanilla custard…” Hadrian trails off and I notice that his neck starts to tinge red.

“You like vanilla custard?” I remember Cecile saying something like that. Or maybe she said that I smelled like vanilla custard.

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. "Yes, I do."

The tinge travels to his jaw and I’m even more fascinated by the pastry. “Can we get some?”

Hadrian nods and we walk to the stand with the Moon Squares. Hadrian is sure not to touch me and still keeps a five-foot distance from me. He orders me a Moon Square from the merchant and I beam when I’m handed my own.

The little boy escapes from his mother and camps himself around Hadrian’s leg. The boy reaches up with his tiny arms and Hadrian leans down to pick him up. I look at the boy with gray eyes and rosy cheeks. His black hair is not as dark as Hadrian’s but still, I wonder.

“Princess Emma.” The boy squeals and reaches for the Moon Square in my hands. His little fingers dig in and half falls on the ground and ends up with the toddler.

“Oh my Goddess, I’m so sorry, Your Highness.” The mother squeals.

I giggle when I see the toddler licking the custard of his hands. Hadrian gives the child back to his mother.

There is custard everywhere on my hands. I copy the child and lick the custard of my palm. “Hmm, so good.”

Hadrian shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

"Want some?" I want to press my hand on his face, but I momentarily forget that Hadrian has the reflexes of a werewolf. He catches my wrist before I can smear the custard all over his face.

Hadrian holds my eyes as he leans forward and licks along my thumb. The hot touch of his tongue shoots fire through my nerve endings. He then wraps his lips around my other fingers and sucks the custard off each one.

My brain short circuits and I forget how to breathe. *Error, overheating, overheating.*

“Breathe Emma.” His voice is low and rough and travels to my core. Hadrian looks at my hand and every speck of custard is gone.

I gasp and the air fills back in my lungs. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

Hadrian blinks and the smirk tugging at his lips disappears. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” That pensive look returns.

I smear the custard from my other hand on his face. His eyes widen in shock and I bend over in laughter. It aches in my stomach. Hadrian grumbles as he cleans his face, but I can see a smirk tug at his lips.

A guard approaches us. “Sir, the contestants are gathering for the tournament.”

I stop laughing and Hadrian glares at the guard. I notice a tremble running through the guard and he leaves with a pale face.

I look at the disappearing guard and then at Hadrian. “Hadrian, what does he mean by ‘the contestants are gathering’?

Hadrian rubs the back of his neck again. “Uhm, I’m entering the Blood Moon tournament.”

*The Blood Moon tournament!* That is the same contest that he entered when he was seventeen and when he received all his scars. A chill runs down my spine when I think about the thought of him getting hurt again.

I back away from him to see if he’s joking, but there is nothing but seriousness on his face. “Are you crazy, why would you do that?” I swing my arms in the air.

“I cannot let Marius win.”

I scrunch my nose. “Please, don’t tell me that this is about the other night.”

Hadrian shakes his head and looks at me with a piercing gaze. “No, it’s not, I need to do this.”

He believes it. He really believes that he has to do this. It’s not to impress a crowd or win a prize. I think that I'll never really understand why, but if this is really that important to him, should I not support him?

I breathe and calm my nerves. “Okay, you’re going to win this.”

Hadrian raises his eyebrows at my change of response. “I hope so.”

I scoff and cross my arms. “I know so.”

Hadrian eyes me skeptically. “What do you know about werewolf tournaments?”

“Nothing, but I believe in you.” I chuckle as I look at the man before me. He is bigger than anyone I’ve met thus far. Not even the king can match his size and strength. “You’re a mountain Hadrian, I cannot imagine anyone—“

He doesn’t let me finish my words. His lips find mine and he consumes me in a heated kiss. My knees weaken and his hand travels down my back and to my tailbone. He brings me closer to him until I feel his arousal.

“You need to stop turning me on Emma.” Hadrian whispers in a strained voice.

*What did I do?*

Hadrian doesn’t let go of me. “Promise me something.”

I’m dazed and nod. Words are incomprehensible at the moment.

"Go back to the palace, go to our room and lock it. Don’t open the door for anyone and don’t come out until the sun rises.”