Naomi paused briefly and turned to gaze at her. “I have observed numerous reprehensible men exploit women as mere objects. However, I have never witnessed anyone regard another with the same intensity as Jayce regards you. Even if he is too proud to acknowledge his emotions, they are clearly evident on his countenance.”
Molly exhaled audibly. “I am uncertain.”
“It is acceptable to be uncertain. You are not obligated to engage with him if you choose not to. However, I observe the way you regard him. There is a mutual affection between you, which is difficult to dismiss, is it not?”
Molly ingested and affirmed with a nod.
“It is unwise to squander love; therefore, I advise against acting foolishly.”
Naomi dressed Molly in a fitted pair of trousers and a coordinating jumper. Upon gazing into the mirror, it appeared as a one-piece garment, significantly more tailored than her usual attire. She allowed her hair to cascade down her back, securing half of it while applying a touch of makeup to her face. Although they were not departing until nightfall, Naomi insisted on preparing herself for the day immediately. Her coat bore one or two holes that Naomi deliberately created to signify her poverty. Did the poorly fitting garments also imply that? Molly was uncertain, yet she acquiesced.
Upon completion, she departed, leaving Molly to her reflections. Her wolf remained subdued within her, and she had ceased to bleed long ago; however, she yearned to escape the torrent of thoughts that overwhelmed her mind. It was preferable for her to engage in these discussions with a wolf rather than confront them alone.
Why did everyone assert that Jayce had affection for her while Molly remained oblivious to it? He intended to exploit her as he had with the other women at the palace. After satisfying his desires, he would abandon her, rendering her akin to all the others, correct?
He was more protective of her than anyone had ever been. She had never perceived him in that manner towards anyone else, not even Vera during her poisoning. He embraced her at night as if she were his sole cherished possession, relentlessly pursuing those who harmed her. His actions conveyed more than the irritable words he had previously directed at her; thus, why was she unable to believe he genuinely cared? He may have been reluctant to acknowledge their relationship to her, just as she was. If she acknowledged such a truth, she would forfeit a portion of her identity. She had only recently begun to assert herself and comprehend the essence of strength. If she were to fall for a prince, it would undermine any progress she had achieved for herself.
No man merited her freedom—yet still. She was unable to expunge him from her thoughts. His kiss was simultaneously fervent and wrathful. He asserted his possession over her with his lips, rendering her knees feeble as her body succumbed to him. She had never experienced such an intense longing for anyone prior. She had never experienced her entire body tingle from another’s touch, even when it was fleeting. She harboured significant resentment towards him, which manifested during their kisses.
Would it be so detrimental to indulge and permit herself a sampling of forbidden fruit? She need not bind herself to him as others did; she was capable of achieving this independently.
What was her thought process? She was unable to… Not in his company! He would perceive himself as her possessor, treating her as merely another conquest, devoid of significance to him. Certain aspects were revered, yet she could not cease contemplating his hands on her body, uncovering regions she had yet to explore herself.
Molly?
A resonant voice interrupted her contemplation. Molly glanced to observe Jayce positioned by her door. His hair was intentionally dishevelled, and his attire was excessively… standard. He donned a red and black flannel shirt, dark trousers, and a tattered coat over it. She scarcely recognised him, yet she would identify those blue eyes anywhere. He did not resemble a prince in any way, yet he remained as attractive as ever.
The dark stubble on his jaw had developed over the past few days. She contemplated the sensation of it against her skin, then swiftly dismissed those thoughts.
Molly remarked with a faint smile, “You appear splendid.” His gaze scrutinised her figure, and she abruptly longed for her collection of oversized sweaters to conceal herself. Upon departing the camp, she realised she would don another. There was no reason to alter her style since she was not the individual they sought. In their perception, she was merely an inconsequential maid.
He offered no response to her compliment as he removed his jacket. “We shall depart only after dinner, when darkness prevails. Colton indicated that this would be optimal to avoid scrutiny.”
Molly anxiously fidgeted with her nails as he approached her. He extended his hand to calm her trembling hands. “I have been contemplating numerous matters.”
“As usual,” he remarked, a slight lift at the corner of his mouth. Her blood throbbed audibly beneath his contact.
Molly exhaled audibly and chuckled softly. “I was contemplating you and-”
“Do not engage in such an action,” he murmured. His gaze shifted to her lips as she endeavoured to expel all impure thoughts from her mind. “You will merely complicate it.”
“I believed you despised me,” Molly remarked, glancing at their hands. She sensed his warm breath against her forehead. “I ought to despise you, correct?”
“Do you?”
Molly swallowed and negated with a shake of her head. He cupped her face in his hands and elevated it to meet his gaze. “I do not either.”
It was as though a cord had fractured within her. He drew her close and kissed her passionately, as if he could not endure another moment. His fingers entwined in her hair as he elevated her to encircle his waist. She clutched his shoulders and pressed her body against his. He sighed and transported her to the bed, and Molly felt an overwhelming desire for him to continue. She desired this; she craved every aspect of him and was weary of compelling herself to think otherwise.
He placed her on the bed and collapsed beside her. His mouth fervently sought hers once more after their separation. Molly contorted her body towards his, granting him entry into her mouth. Their tongues intertwined, she clutched his hair with her fingers, desiring to imprint the sensation of his body against hers. She desired to immortalise this moment.
His lips departed from hers to traverse down her neck. She inhaled sharply as he hovered over the imprint he had created on her skin. He had to remove the fabric of her jumper, but he found it satisfactory. “My companion,” he lamented.
