Status Updates From Forest of Hearts

Things between us were easy, cosy, like I was just a girl talking to the boy I liked and nothing else mattered.

Until the storm entered the cottage.

'We're two lonely people, who else are we going to spend time with?' It wasn't until I said it that I realised how much I wanted it to be true. I needed a seventh heart. I needed to kill the queen. What was I doing here with my head crammed full of this huntsman's cheekbones, soft, full lips, and thick arms that had felt far too good wrapped round me?

The huntsman was abandoned in sleep. His defences down, his arms spread wide as he made himself at home in my bed, a lock of tawny hair fallen across his forehead. Gently, I tucked it back, letting my knuckles graze his face. He really was too handsome for his own good. And mine.

'Sometimes I don't think I have a heart any more,' he whispered.

A lump lodged itself in my throat. 'Me neither.'

'Oh, no,' he tilted my chin up with one finger, searching my eyes intently. 'No, you have a heart. If you didn't, you never would have saved me.'

I sucked in a breath. Gods curse him, this huntsman was making it exquisitely difficult to consider stealing his heart.

Kaz was still holding me tightly. His breath warmed my neck as he bent his head towards me, sending my imagination spinning wild and free. Then his mouth found my ear and my imagination ground to a halt. 'It's coming down the chimney,' he whispered.

Kaz lurched up. Wrapping his arms round me, he lifted me up against his chest as he leaped off the bed, before setting me down on my feet, my thoughts whirling.

Kaz gave a sharp nod, then I felt him move beneath me. Face to face, with one hand on my knife, the other on his mouth, I watched as he slowly slipped a hand under my thighs. My breath caught.

'Elka.'

He murmured my name under his breath. It sounded sweet on his tongue. I gathered myself together with a little joke.

'Swear that you will not lay a hand on me again,' I said.

'I swear it to the gods,' he said simply, sincerely.

'Good.'

'Unless you ask me,' he added.

His chuckle was deep, dark. Delicious. Unbuttoning his shirt with bloody fingers, he revealed his chest; taut with the definition I'd expect from a huntsman with his arrogant attitude, taking no heed of the danger before venturing into Stary Bór. I glanced away, pretending it had no effect on me.

'If I let you go, are you still going to kick me?'

I levelled a glare at him. 'If you don't let me go, you re going to wish I'd only kicked you.'

He gave me a slow smile. 'Maybe I should keep holding on to you, then.'

My stomach tightened, my cheeks warming against my will. 'Try it and suffer.' I had never wanted to kick a man more. If he hadn't been injured... I resisted.

I could always kill him later.

'I'll fight this; I won't let you be the death of me.'