Troy
I was in deep.
Totally and completely in over my head.
And as I watched Horace approach, his gnarled figure limping through the garden as though he were simply out on a stroll, I tensed, my shoulders tight and rigid as I straightened up to my full height and leaned the rake I was holding against one of the freshly pruned bushes.
The garden had become our meeting place after Maeve had caught me on the outskirts of the castle grounds on my first day in residence. Horace and I had been leaving notes to each other beneath a pile of fallen stones in the dilapidated shed since I arrived in Valoria several weeks ago as I prepared to masquerade as Aaron, the breeder. Aaron, the one I knew she was falling in love with.
She didn’t know me. She couldn’t know me. And when she cried out his name while I moved within her, I could have screamed and beat my fists in agony. Oh, I was in trouble. Meeting my mate was not part of the plan.
Neither was trying to save her life.