(MAYA)
The celebration continues late into the night, but eventually, Griffin guides me away from the revelry, through quiet corridors to our private chambers. The rooms have been prepared for us, fresh flowers in crystal vases, candles casting a warm glow across polished surfaces, and the bed turned down invitingly.
The door clicks shut behind us, the sound loud in the quiet after the celebration. My heart is racing. The pulse in my throat pounds like a drum, and my skin feels hot beneath the layers of silk and lace I'm still wearing. Griffin is behind me, silent but close, so close, I can feel his heat at my back.
I turn slowly, and when I meet his eyes, everything in me tightens. There's no trace of the calm, composed king in his expression now. His gaze is dark, stormy with want, his jaw tense, lips parted slightly like he's holding back a growl. The same growl that makes my knees weak.
