She’d taken control first, exploring the rigid planes of his chest and abdomen with a boldness that surprised her. No man had ever let her lead like that. Chet had always been impatient, focused on his own pleasure, rushing toward release without consideration for her needs.
But Kovrak... Kovrak had surrendered to her touch with a restraint that spoke of incredible self-control. He’d let her learn him, taste him, until she’d felt drunk on the power of making a future king tremble beneath her hands and mouth.
Then he’d reversed their positions with a fluid grace that stole her breath and proceeded to worship her body like she was something sacred. The memory of his mouth between her thighs sent heat through her core all over again. He’d been thorough. Patient. Devastating in his attention to her pleasure.
“Equal,” she murmured, testing the words against the humid air.
That’s what it had been. Not a transaction where she gave and he took. A true exchange. He’d prioritized her needs and her pleasure with an intensity that left her reeling.
When was the last time someone had made her feel both desired and respected? When had anyone ever gazed at her like she was worth unwrapping slowly and worth learning completely?
The water continued its steady massage, but Faith’s thoughts had drifted far away. Last night hadn’t felt reckless or impulsive, despite the moonlit setting and the passion that had consumed them both. It had felt... inevitable. As if some part of her had been walking toward that moment long before she’d stepped through Gerri’s portal.
She turned off the water and stepped onto the heated marble floor, wrapping herself in a towel that was softer than anything she owned back home. The steam began to clear, and with it, the dreamy haze that had surrounded her memories.
Reality seeped back in around the edges as she made her way to the walk-in closet. Once inside the vast space, she studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. Her eyes were brighter than she remembered them being in months—maybe years. And there was a confidence in her stance that she’d never seen before, like she was ready to conquer the world now.
But beneath that, an unfamiliar feeling crept in.
Last night, walking away had still been an option. Painful perhaps, but possible. She could have left Nova Aurora with her heart intact, her life unchanged, and her carefully constructed independence preserved.
Now? Now the thought of leaving felt like tearing something vital out by the roots. The idea of returning to her small apartment above the bakery alone, of never seeing Kovrak’s ice-blue eyes soften with desire again, of never feeling his hands map her body with such reverence—it made her chest tighten with loss.
“Six days,” she said aloud, testing the weight of the timeline.
Her fingers drifted to her collarbone, pressing lightly against the spot where Kovrak had buried his face as he’d found his release. She could still feel the phantom pressure of his body covering hers, still taste the salt of his skin on her tongue.
The bakery flashed in her mind—the cheerful bell over the door, the pre-dawn hours when the world was quiet and hers alone, the scent of cinnamon and rising dough that had become her signature. That place had been more than a business. It had been proof that she could build something with her own hands, that she could survive and thrive without depending on anyone else.
But now...
She selected a yellow sundress from the wardrobe, the color bright and optimistic against the morning light streaming through the windows. As she slipped it over her head, she caughther reflection again. The woman looking back at her didn’t look like someone running from love anymore.
She looked like someone afraid of how deeply she was beginning to care about him.
The choice stretching before her was no longer about financial stability or career opportunities. It wasn’t even about the incredible chemistry that had ignited between them in that moonlit clearing. It was about whether she was willing to let her life expand beyond the careful boundaries she’d drawn for herself back in New Jersey.
Whether she was brave enough to trust that love didn’t have to mean losing herself.
Faith smoothed the fabric of the dress and took a steadying breath. Six days to decide her future. Six days to determine if she could build something here that honored both her autonomy and her growing feelings for a white tiger prince.
She didn’t have to decide today. But with each passing hour, each stolen glance and gentle touch, the answer was becoming terrifyingly clearer.
The door burst open with a flourish that could only belong to one person. Liora swept into the suite like a whirlwind of barely contained excitement, her black hair catching the morning light as she bounced on her toes. Faith barely had time to register the intrusion before words began tumbling from the younger woman’s lips in a breathless rush.
“Faith! You won’t believe what’s happening—the elders, they’re absolutely beside themselves with excitement about your desserts from last night!” Liora’s bright blue eyes sparkled with an enthusiasm that was infectious even through Faith’s post-shower haze. “They’ve been talking all morning about the innovation, the artistry, the way you merged our flavors with Earth techniques?—“
“Wait.” Faith held up a hand, her mind still catching up to the sudden shift from her quiet morning contemplation to this explosion of energy. “The elders? After what happened with Merral?”
Liora waved dismissively, as if allergic reactions and political sabotage were minor inconveniences rather than the near-catastrophe they’d felt like last night. “Everyone knows that wasn’t your fault. The saboteur confessed everything before dawn—apparently he was paid handsomely to cause exactly that kind of chaos.” Her expression sobered slightly. “They don’t hold any of that against you, Faith. If anything, they’re even more impressed that you handled the crisis with such grace.”
Relief flooded through Faith’s chest, loosening knots of tension she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying.
“But that’s not even the best part,” Liora continued, her excitement returning full force. “There’s a dance this afternoon in the town square—one of our most beloved traditions during the festival. And they want you to bake the annual celebration cake.”
Faith blinked, certain she’d misheard. “They want me to what?”
“The celebration cake! It’s a huge honor, Faith. Usually it’s commissioned months in advance from our most respected bakers. But they want something new this year, something that represents the unity between our worlds.” Liora’s hands gestured animatedly as she spoke. “They want your skill and your innovation on full display today.”