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Dove utters a broken gasp when Jacques draws the fourth orgasm from her for the evening, her heat clenching around his length and accepting everything he pumps into her. Her whole body shakes from the intense pleasure that ripples through her, the muscles in her thighs trembling when he delivers a final, spasming thrust into her core.

The sheets beneath them are damp with both their sweat and release, wrinkled beyond salvation, and it would just be easier to burn them when they one day leave this bed. But neither of them could care less about the sheets. And neither of them feels any remorse for the downright sinful things they’ve done to each other while the ball dragged on, too in love and greedy for the bliss they can bring each other.

As the clock chimes midnight, Jacques pulls himself out of her for the first time and collapses on his back. He would’ve never guessed vampires can grow breathless, but it seems they do. Then again, he’s never been this intimate with a woman before.

Smiling with pure joy, he pulls Dove closer, his heart beating twice as fast when she instinctively drapes an arm and leg over his naked body. She smells thoroughly of him, and he of her, a musk he’ll wear with burning pride.

“And?” He quirks a brow down at her. “How did I do this time around, Princess?”

Dove hums in satisfaction, rolling her body against his, nuzzling her breasts against his side. “It was perfect. I do believe I’m incapable of walking at last.”

A comfortable silence settles between them as they bask in each other’s warmth. However, Dove’s thoughts are racing while his fingers caress her body, preventing her from truly relaxing under his touch.

Tonight won’t change the fact that she’s still betrothed to Rubin. If anything, she’s only caused her and Jacques a lifetime of trouble by giving herself to him. What prince – or any man – would want a woman who’s been sullied? Not that she would call Jacques’ release sticking to her inner thighs ‘sullied’, but unfortunately, others won’t share her opinion.

One thing is for certain: she’s not getting married after this. And her father will probably kill both her and Jacques if he finds out what they did.

“What are you thinking?” His voice vibrates through him and into her, gently brushing his fingers over the curve of her waist.

Propping her head on his chest, she fixes him a look as though she was waiting for him to ask. “How do you feel about running away together?"

Jacques’ brows arch in surprise. He did not expect…that. “That is certainly a bold thought, Princess. You want to leave your home, your family?”

“I wish I could say no.” She sighs, staring at the dancing candles on the nightstand. She looks so mature to him in this light, despite turning freshly nineteen. Dove’s voice lowers to a solemn murmur when she continues, “My father will never allow us to be together, and honestly, I don’t want him or anyone to find out about us – what we just did.”

“What do you want?” His heart jolts when her eyes cut to his, reflecting the light of the candles with burning determination.

“I want you to be the first person I see when I wake up in the mornings, and the last when I go to sleep, and everything in between. I want a life with you, Jacques. And yes,” she adds, “I’ll leave my home and my family if that means I’ll get what I want.”

Doesn’t she always?

He realizes she is dead serious when her gaze remains unblinking, striking a thrilling combination of fear and exhilaration within him. He knows she’s right, Lorcan will kill him if he finds out what happened in this room. They’re only safe until someone realizes the princess and the castle’s healer had been absent for a long time and sets out looking for them.

However, he doesn’t want her to think that ‘running away’ is the only solution. The castle is, in fact, her home. His too. Their friends and family are here, their lives, the memories they’ve created over the years. Leaving it all behind is a foreign concept to his brain, and truthfully, a little frightening.

And he would’ve told her that…if she wasn’t staring so intensely at him, breaking and mending his heart simultaneously. Jacques knows he’s past the point of no return. After kissing her, tasting her, and drawing one orgasm after the other from her perfect body, death is an easier release than not waking up each morning with her in his bed, tucked into his side. And if running away will guarantee him that, then he will gladly follow her wherever she goes.

Opening his mouth to tell her just that, he only manages to utter the first syllable of the phrase ‘as you wish, Princess’, when the doors burst open for Gustav to barge into the room.

“I came as soon as I smelled the smoke. You forgot the cauldrons –” Gustav staggers at the force with which his feet came to a halt, sucking a breath at the sight before him.

Dove knows it’s too late, he’s already seen everything, yet she still grabs a pillow to cover her naked form. Jacques, on the other hand, only bolts up with shock written over his face, startled eyes fixed on his friend.

“*No*.” Gustav shakes his head, incapable of believing his eyes. “No, no, you didn’t…you *wouldn’t*…” He staggers backward, numb with shock.

Circling Dove’s waist protectively, Jacques moves her behind him, shielding her from the herbologist’s view. “Gus, listen, you have to stay calm –”

“*Calm*?!” Grey eyes alternate between the healer and the princess. “You *slept* with the princess, Jacques! Right before her wedding! Underneath her father’s – *our friend’s* – roof! I can’t believe you!”

“Gustav, please calm down,” Dove’s soft voice is in stark contrast with his. “It wasn’t Jacques’ fault. I’m the one who persuaded him. I’ll take the blame if my father ever finds you.”

The herbologist huffs incredulously, sounding exasperated when he says, “With all due respect, princess, but it’s rather a matter of *when* he finds out. You *reek* of the fool beside you, I can smell you where I stand. It’ll take weeks for that odour to fade.”

Cold dread stirs in Jacques’ chest when he realizes that little detail. Not once has he thought of it before Gustav brought it up. Daring to sniff at Dove’s hair, his breath hitches when all he can smell is himself, his musk coating her, marking her as his. It’s overwhelming, erotic, and very, very bad for their chances of surviving Lorcan’s wrath.

“How bad is it?” Dove asks warily.

“It’s bad.” Jacques replies, not sugarcoating it.

“Bad?” Gustav echoes. “It’s *suffocating*! You may as well start digging your grave, because there is no coming back from this. I tried warning you, Jacques. I *begged* you to stay away from her. And still you…” He trails off and closes his eyes. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

It is as if the severity of what he’s done finally dawned on him. Jacques’ chest tightens anxiously, diverting his gaze from the herbologist to the princess next to him. She looks back at him with wide eyes, their brilliance dulled with fear. It instils him with both anger and regret. She should never have to feel this scared, and never when he is present. Her happiness is what gave him purpose, and he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure it.

With a final look at Gustav, he offers Dove a calming smile before saying, “Go pack a bag, Princess. We leave in ten minutes.”