"It’s ti for you to leave."
Those were the words the bargain-bin Mufasa delivered, even though the party was still in full swing—princess absent or not. The Free Fae might be racist and all, but one thing they undeniably knew how to do was party.
Of course, Hannah had refused. The night was still young, and more importantly, she hadn’t secured a husband yet. She didn’t say that last part out loud. Taryn didn’t need to ruin her plan further.
Unfortunately, after he’d threatened to hoist her over his shoulder and carry her out himself, Hannah had conceded defeat. She wasn’t about to destroy her reputation in front of potential husbands by being hauled out like a misbehaving child.
And so here she was, trudging back toward her quarters, her steps heavy. Tonight had been a spectacular failure in Operation: Secure a Fae Husband. She hadn’t even managed to so much as enamor a single Fae thanks entirely to the irritating beast who had made his mission to chaperone and chase away potential husbands.
Hannah shot Taryn a glare. He walked ahead of her, unbothered, while she deliberately dragged her feet behind him like a spoiled child making a point.
Then an idea struck her.
Hannah stopped abruptly but Taryn didn’t.
He kept walking, his footsteps unhurried. If he’d heard her halt, he gave no sign of it, or he didn’t care enough to check.
Hope blood in her chest as he continued down the corridor, farther and farther away from him.
This is it.
At this rate, she might actually make it back to the party and secure herself a husband.
So the mont Taryn turned the corner, Hannah moved.
She pivoted imdiately, stepping off with light steps, her shoes barely whispering against the floor as she picked up speed.
For an assassin like her, Hannah should have known this was way too easy. But
desperation had a way of blinding even the sharpest mind.
Hannah didn’t take the sa route back. On the way to the party—and on the forced walk away from it—she’d morized the paths, and the turns. She had no intention of escaping the Fae realm — she didn’t even want to — but knowing the way was essential.
She’d barely taken the next turn when she froze. The Taryn she had watched walk away was now standing directly in front of her.
Hannah had to clear her face with her hands.
"Oh shit," she breathed when it dawned on her that this was no illusion or trick of the light. It was him.
But how—? When did—?
There was no ti to think, Hannah spun on her heel and bolted.
Just like that, the chase was on.
It reminded her of the first day they’d t except then he’d been in his lion form, but it didn’t make the mont any less dangerous. Right now, those eyes belonged to a predator wearing a man’s body, and they were locked on her with a singular intent.
"Fuck ..." Hannah muttered as she ran, pushing herself faster.
Fine.
If Taryn wanted to catch her, she’d make him earn it.
For soone his size, Taryn was frighteningly fast. His strides were long and sure, his movents fluid despite his bulk as if he had learned how to wear restraint only when necessary.
Hannah didn’t even know where she was running anymore. The corridors blurred past, the only thing clear in her mind
was this: don’t get caught.
She heard him gain on her, and felt the displacent of air when he reached for her. Goddess, he was too close.
So Hannah called forth her supernatural speed, power surging through her veins as she showed him exactly what she was made of. The sudden acceleration put precious distance between them, just enough for her to smirk over her shoulder.
And intentionally, she veered sharply toward a cluster of approaching faeries.
Hannah slipped through them neatly, twisting and ducking easily and totally Lord Taryn who followed a heartbeat later, and nearly plowed straight through them.
"Watch it!" one faerie hissed as another stumbled.
"Careful, beast!" soone cursed.
Taryn swore under his breath, slowing just long enough to mutter hurried apologies as he pushed past them. Hannah, on the other hand, laughed breathlessly and kept running, the sound floating back to him like a challenge.
The look Taryn shot her promised only one thing. She was as good as dead once he caught her.
Except the thought sent a thrill through her instead of fear. That was how Hannah made it outside into the garden, the cool night air hitting her lungs while the Faelight spilled over her path.
Taryn was right behind her, his pursuit unbroken. Inside the palace, he’d been forced to restrain himself, but out here, there was no such limitation.
He moved like an unbound predator now, faster, deadlier, and perfectly in his elent.
Hannah tried to outmaneuver him, taking
sharp turns and leaping over low hedges, but this was the lion shifter’s domain. The open space favored his strength and speed, and his determination was absolute.
She felt it an instant before it happened.
Taryn slamd into her from behind, his weight driving her down as they crashed hard onto the grass. The world jolted, and the air punched out of her lungs in a gasp as she hit the ground.
Hannah struggled beneath him, twisting her hips and trying to throw him off balance, but Taryn was already prepared for it. He shifted his weight and wedged his legs firmly between hers, locking her in place.
Before she could react, his hands closed around her wrists and slamd them back against the ground, pinning them above her head.
She froze, not from fear, but from the sudden certainty that she wasn’t getting free.
Taryn leaned down, his face inches from hers, and a low growl rolled out of his chest. It was deep, territorial, and unmistakably that of a lion shifter, vibrating through her bones and sending a shiver straight down her spine.
The sound was a warning.
Hannah stared up at him and laughed.
"Well," she said breathlessly, "looks like I’m at your rcy, King Mufasa."
Taryn growled again, eyes blazing as they locked onto hers, the gold burning hot with a strange, unreadable intensity.
"Alright, alright," Hannah said, finally stilling beneath him. "I give up. You win, Lion King."
Her shoulders relaxed, her resistance lting away.
It did sothing to him.
She felt the slow easing of the tension that had coiled through his body like a drawn bow. The scene almost reminded her of a challenged Alpha wolf—how they never backed down until the other submitted. Wolf shifter or lion shifter, she supposed it didn’t matter. Beasts were beasts.
Taryn still didn’t get off her.
Hannah smirked. "You know, this is usually the part in books where the shifter male kisses his conquered female."
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
The instant regret was imdiate.
The way Taryn’s eyes darkened sent her heart lurching violently in her chest.
Uh-oh.
That was not smart.
Her mouth, as usual, had betrayed her.
"I—I don’t an that," she rushed out. "Not like, you should kiss . I just ant—" She let out an awkward laugh. "That’s usually how these scenes go. But we’re not like that. Obviously. I an, you’re bargain-bin Mufasa for crying out loud."
She laughed again, except it was too forced as she tried desperately to lighten the mont.
It didn’t work.
If anything, the tension around them thickened, heavy enough to suffocate.
Taryn released one of her wrists and for
half a second, Hannah thought she’d been given freedom, until he captured her cheek instead. His palm was warm, and rough, grounding her in a way that knocked the breath straight out of her lungs.
"Or maybe not..." she muttered, her heart slamming wildly against her ribs.
What the hell was happening?
Taryn looked at her with a gaze so dark and smoldering, and Hannah hated how easily she fell victim to it. The air between them crackled, charged with sothing that had nothing to do with the chase anymore.
And her traitorous pulse raced, her heart threatening to jump out of her chest.
"We shouldn’t—" Hannah started, even as his face dipped closer.
Too late.
His lips brushed against hers, just a whisper of contact and Hannah gasped as electricity surged through her, lighting every nerve in her body on fire.
This was not her first kiss.
As a secret romantic, Hannah had done her fair share of experinting back in Duskmoon village. Those kisses had been sweet, curious, and sotis clumsy. It was pretty much fun. They’d taught her what lips upon lips felt like.
But none of them had ever felt like this.
None had stolen her breath like this.
Back then, there had been no lightning striking her spine, no sudden rush that made her head spin. No heat blooming so fast it felt like it might consu her whole.
All romance book she read always talked about sparks, about stars bursting behind closed eyes, about the world narrowing down to a single touch—and she had always assud that part was exaggeration.
Until now.
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