Not every Fae was excited to be at the party. Right now, Lord Taryn stood before Hannah’s door. Being Hannah’s babysitter also meant escorting her to the princess debut party tonight.
The Queen did not trust Hannah enough to leave her alone and wanted her where her eyes could reach her at all times. Queen Seraphira couldn’t quite figure the girl out—and honestly, he didn’t blame her. He couldn’t either. Thus, the responsibility had been pushed onto him to watch Hannah and find out what her game plan was.
If only he knew.
Taryn sighed. He was the pridefather of the lion clan, for crying out loud, and somehow he’d been reduced to this.
Just as Lord Taryn raised his hand to knock, the door flew open and Hannah stepped out, and for a brief, disorienting moment, he forgot how to breathe.
Hannah was dressed in deep, royal amethyst purple, so rich and luminous, the fabric flowing in soft layers of silk beneath sheer organza panels. Tiny floral prints bloomed across the organza, almost seemingly alive, as if enchanted flowers had been pressed into the fabric by magic itself.
The bodice was fitted on her, sculpting her waist perfectly, with subtle embroidery tracing upward like climbing vines. And then from her shoulders cascaded light and airy organza tassels.
But it was the dupatta that stole breath.
It fell from her shoulders in a soft, flowing arc, the edges embroidered with floral motifs and finished with tiny tassels that brushed her arms and back, giving her an air of mystery and power. Hannah did not look like a princess this time, she was a forest enchantress.
Taryn did not even realize he was still gaping at her until she twirled around, the organza fluttering like petals caught in a gentle wind.
"It looks amazing on me, doesn’t it?" Hannah giggled, absolutely loving the dress.
That was when Taryn snapped out of it, clearing his throat and forcing himself to regain his composure.
He said sarcastically, "At this point, people might forget all about the princess and stare at you all night."
Although, now that he thought about it, his words sounded dangerously close to a compliment.
But Hannah didn’t take it that way. Instead, she said brightly, "Oh, I’m no princess this time. I’ve played that role already. Right now, I’m a legend."
"Excuse me?" Taryn was utterly confused.
Hannah ignored him and continued, "I didn’t think the Fae tailors they sent would be able to pull this off, but they did an impressive job. You can think of me as Little Purple Riding Hood."
"Little Purple Riding Hood?"
"I took inspiration from the original, of course. Little Red Riding Hood." She shifted to the side, the gown flowing with her movement. "But damn," Hannah breathed, admiring herself, "I think I have better fashion sense than the original red, don’t you think?"
"Huh?" Taryn was still lost.
Hannah looked up and realized it. "Oh," she said, then explained, "It’s a famous lore about a girl in a red hood sent through the woods to visit her grandmother. Everyone warns her not to stray from the path, but she does anyway. She meets a wolf who pretends to be harmless, gains her trust, and uses it against her. In the end, depending on the version, she’s either rescued or learns the hard way not to trust easily."
Hannah paused, a sly smile curving her lips. "Although, if I’m the purple riding hood, doesn’t that make you the dangerous wolf? Or rather," she tilted her head thoughtfully, "the big, bad Lion King..." And yes, here she was, flirting again.
At this point, Hannah couldn’t help it. She just wanted to get a reaction out of him.
For his part, Taryn merely gave her a blank stare so utterly unimpressed that she began to feel ridiculous.
"Fine, you win," she said dramatically. He was such a killjoy.
"Let’s go." Taryn moved as if to grab her arm, then thought better of it. His self-control around the girl was already stretched dangerously thin. She was his own special brand of temptation.
Though he didn’t show it, Taryn had noticed everything from her lush, plump lips to those childbearing hips. Yes, the gods were definitely out for him this time, and he doubted he’d escape his fate unscathed.
"Wait, you’re going like this?"
Hannah’s words slipped out before she could stop them.
Lord Taryn paused mid-step and glanced over his shoulder, unimpressed. "Yes. What about it?"
Hannah didn’t answer right away. She swallowed instead, heat creeping up her cheeks as her eyes betrayed her and traveled where they absolutely should not have.
Her bargain-bin Mufasa was wearing nothing but fitted dark pants, low on his hips, and some sort of thick, sleeveless fur garment draped over his shoulders. It wasn’t quite a jacket, more like something a warrior would wear into battle rather than a palace party. But his arms were completely bare, corded with muscle, while a glimpse of his chest showed beneath the fur, strong and broad and entirely distracting.
Hannah stared and stared, not even realizing she was doing it until a low sound rumbled from Taryn’s chest.
A growl.
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