FeralHeart

The events of the previous night flooded back into her mind, jolting her out of her early morning drowsiness and flushing her cheeks. Turning her head slowly to the side, she found herself staring at the sleeping face of her husband. Grey predawn light trickled in through the gaps of the curtains, setting Mars" scarlet curls on fire. He was frowning slightly at the sudden loss of his feathery blanket, his eyes moving behind his lids, making it seem like he"d wake up at any moment.

Slowly, stealthily, Artemis returned her single outstretched wing back to its former position across his naked body, suddenly very conscious of her own lack of clothing. Closing her eyes, she pretended to sleep.

She was too embarra.s.sed to face him right now. So, rather than wake him up, she decided to wait till he awoke on his own and got off her wing.

She couldn"t believe how comfortably she had slept in his presence. In a strange bed with a strange man… yet, she had still slept like a log. Did that mean that they were just that compatible with each other… or did she actually trust him that much after such a short time together?

His scent permeated the little alcove created by her wings. Breathing it in, she wondered why that was the case as the skies outside brightened and caught a ruddy tint with the rising of the sun.

Her wing, the one that was trapped beneath Mars" body, was numb. She was certain that she would have a horrid case of pins and needles once it was freed. But the wing covering him had retained all sensation. Indeed, without its customary reinforcement with mana, the sensitive feathers made her hyperaware of every contour of his body.

Her breath grew short as she imagined those muscled arms of his wrapped around her, the memories of the previous night lending a touch of realism to her fantasies. She couldn"t believe how submissive she had been the previous night. How overwhelmed by her l.u.s.t.

She had left the bathroom with plans to take charge of their coupling. To show him that she would be their leader in bed. She had failed. Instead, she had gasped and moaned in wanton abandon as he played her like a fiddle with lip, tongue and touch.
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She was jerked out of her musings as she felt Mars stir, vaguely recalling being told that he was an early riser by one of his wives. Right now, she was grateful for the fact as it meant that she wouldn"t have to fake sleep much longer.

She felt him stir, gently pushing her wing away and off him as he sat up, freeing the one trapped beneath. She tried to keep her breathing measured and even in a rough camouflage of sleep as he made no further movement for the longest time… probably sitting there, observing her.

Just when she was goin to give up the pretence and open her eyes, she felt the mattress dip under his weight as he leaned forward. She stiffened as she felt his lips brush lightly against her forehead. Getting off the bed with a light chuckle, he padded off to the washroom, leaving her frozen on the bed with her heart thumping madly in her chest.

The sound of the bathroom door closing resounded in the silence of the room and jolted Artemis out of her daze. He had seen through her, admittedly shoddy, acting. Why did she ever think that things would play out otherwise? Grabbing a pillow, she clamped it over her face and screamed into it from embarra.s.sment.

Sitting up with a jerk, she tossed the pillow to the side. Seeing that she had been seen through, there was no point in keeping the charade up any further. She winced as her wing tingled as the sensation rushed back into it.

With a thought, her silvery mana coursed down from her mindscape and flooded into her wings making them glow faintly silver. The sensitivity reduced along with the increased stiffness and durability as her wings returned to the natural weapons they were.

Subconsciously, Artemis reached out beside her for her sword out of the force of habit… only to remember that she wouldn"t need to rely on it anymore.

She might have been privy to a portion of the imperial secret technique, but that didn"t mean avoiding Vita"s insidious whispers was an easy matter. After all, it was the will of a G.o.d that we are talking about.

From the moment she had bound herself to her sword, she had dedicated six hours of her day to meditation.

Seven hours of sleep, six hours of meditation. Half of every day was lost to her. Coupled with her extensive training regimen… it had left little time for her to interact with her peers. This problem had been compounded by her imperial t.i.tle, strength and martial talent, all of which had painted an impression of a cold and proud First Princess.

She had become used to her peers respecting her and looking up to her as an elder sister, but they never dared to get too close… Except Reinhart with that impossible crush of his.

Getting off the bed and drawing the bedsheet around her like a makeshift toga, she walked up to the window. Drawing the curtains wide and throwing the windows open, she let the orange light of dawn suffuse the room with its warm tint.

A light morning breeze blew in, ruffling her hair. She breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of freedom. A quarter of her day, each day, had been spent staring at a sword. And now, with her bond to Mars replacing her connection with her sword, that time was hers again, to do with as she pleased.

Even the reddish dawn sunlight couldn"t hide her blush as she remembered what exactly those six hours of meditation had been replaced by.