My eyes fluttered open as pain seared through my wounded shoulder as I lay on the massive bed, I was still struggling to figure out how I had ended up in King Marcus's bedroom.
I swallowed hard as I slowly scan the room, its modern design made me feel comfortable, the room's ambiance was too pleasant to see.
The room's interior was too far from mine, and the smell...
I sniffed then closed my eyes, it smelled so maculine, powerful...
It smelled like him...
I whispered to my self and smile, but the smile in my face automatically faded when I remembered the glint of the dagger, the feral snarl of Ronan, and the sensation of cold steel piercing me flesh.
Then the strong arms, a deep voice growling in anger, and the warmth cocooning me as I was carried away from the training ground.
And now, in the dimly lit room, the comforting scent pinewood and blood enveloped me, mingling with the rich musk of the man who had saved me.
