Chapter 49

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It was the middle of the night and Jade couldn't sleep. She was lying beside Aaron, watching him sleep. He was no less gorgeous asleep than awake, but far less intimidating. The severeness of his features had softened into a relaxed peacefulness. Without the intensity of his stern gaze, he looked almost approachable.

She watched his chest rise and fall with every steady breath and envied his ability to fall asleep within minutes. A strand of his hair was falling over his forehead and she gently brushed it away. He stirred at the contact, an almost-smile on his lips at her touch. She loved how their bond affected him, now more than ever since they had mated.

She drew back and listened to the thoughts fluttering through the castle. She'd gotten good at tuning them out. They didn't bother her as much as they used to. In fact, they were almost soothing, a sort of background noise, like trickling water. As Malcolm had taught her, she only searched for minds that stood out. Hostile thoughts, distressed thoughts – anything out of the ordinary.

Being a mind-reader made for awkward situations sometimes. Somewhere in a supply closet a floor down, two servants were meeting for a midnight tryst, their minds a whirlpool of euphoria and anxiety. Forbidden loves truly were the most romantic kind, and Jade might have listened longer, weren't it that the lovers soon moved from harmless foreplay to full-blown intercourse, at which point their thoughts became more uncomfortable to witness.

In another part of the castle, in the soldier's quarters, guards were drinking and ranking the courtly ladies on a scale of relative attractiveness. Jade didn't end up high on their list. Too short, not curvy enough, her hair too untameable. Corinne, however, ranked extremely high, despite her age, but then the queen was a breath-takingly beautiful woman.

The guards in front of the door were linking each other about one of their fated mates. They had just started talking about mating, and he was nervous about it. It was endearing, and she tuned it out, feeling bad about invading the man's privacy.

What else was there to hear? She sifted through minds, but most people were asleep. Dreams were difficult to decipher, because they usually only made sense to the subconscious mind of the dreamer.

She came across something strange and tuned out everything else, listening more carefully. What was that? It was definitely a mind, but not anything she was familiar with. Was it an animal? The minds of animals usually gave off too few impulses for her to pick up on without looking for it. Larger animals had minds that were easier to decipher – horses, cows, those kinds of animals – but that wasn't what it was. She was rather inclined to believe it was a werewolf or human. Perhaps it was a special kind of dream, but she didn't get any images. She only got weak, unspecified impulses – just strong enough to register, but not strong enough to make sense of.

Her heart shot up in her throat and she sat up. Aaron stirred, but didn't wake. She watched him a few seconds, pressing a hand against her chest. Cautiously, she pushed the covers off her, making sure not to lift them too highly, so that Aaron would stay warm and comfortable and not wake because of the draft. His brows twitched at losing her warmth and scent beside him, but his breathing remained steady.

Her feet hit the carpet, the fibres tickling her toes. She took her robe from the hook on which she'd hung it and shrugged it on, pulling it tightly around her. Where were her shoes? She moved about the room, grateful for the carpet. The last thing she needed was creaking floorboards. There they were. She slipped her feet into them and shot a last glance at Aaron. He was such a picture of perfect calmness, and her wolf pushed her to get back in bed with him, perhaps even wake him up and follow the example of the supply-closet-lovers.

She ignored her animal and snuck out of the bedroom and through the parlour, clicking the door open as gently as she could. The guards turned to her and opened their mouths to speak, but she placed a finger against her lips and slipped out, closing the door again with as little sound as possible.

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