Page 12

Chapter Twelve

“E edy Blackthorn, you must know that your eyes are an extraordinary color, right?”

There was something annoyingly endearing about Caelum’s drunken smile as he said it.

“Of course,” I scoffed, rolling said eyes as I dragged his inebriated body down the hall by the hand. “Every man loves a good mud-brown color.”

“No, no, no,” he whined, stumbling after me. “You are so off target I can’t even comprehend it.”

I turned right at the end of the hall toward the guest rooms while Caelum blathered on behind me, oblivious to my sole mission of finding his room and depositing him there as quickly as possible.

“There is a vanity in my aunt’s room made of the giant mahogany trees found only in the fair southern city of Keeve,” he continued.

We passed my room on the left. I believe his was three down from there...

“My eyes remind you of your aunt’s vanity?” I said, trying to placate him. “Charming.”

“No, you are not listening properly, Eedy. This vanity is stunning. And it has this beautiful pattern on the underside of it, as if it were inlaid with gold. But it’s much too perfect to be made by a man. No, this is all-natural beauty.”

I swallowed hard, unsure if he was trying to compliment me or if this would eventually take a turn toward mockery once more.

“How do you know the underside of your aunt’s vanity so intimately?” I asked, finally finding his room and throwing the door open.

He almost fell to the floor when I released him but caught himself at the footboard of his bed.

“Oh, that. Quite simply, it was one of the best hiding places from my uncle. He wasn’t particularly happy that my father had finally produced an heir and that, furthermore, he had to babysit said heir who’d stolen his chance at being king one day.”

I watched him flop halfway onto his bed, his long legs still folded over the side. I came to stand by him to do one last check before departing, when, without warning, he grabbed my arm and yanked me so hard I had no choice but to fall on top of him.

He stared intensely into my eyes, cupping the back of my head to keep me still. My skull tingled under his touch, his fingers slipping further into my hair and gently coaxing me closer. I was embarrassingly aware of his firm muscles under my hands and the way the heat from his body was lighting me up inside.

“Yes. As I said, extraordinary,” he mumbled, his own pupils blown out wide, “just like you.”

My breath caught; his fingers were still tangled in my strands, massaging my scalp as his eyes continued their study of me. Even in his inebriated state, he still managed to seem so in control, so mesmerized with every feature of my face.

Every nerve ending on my skin ached for his fingers to explore next, and that’s when I knew I had to move.

“Well, I’m so glad they aren’t the boring brown I’ve always thought they were,” I said, disentangling his hands from me while awkwardly pulling myself off him.

My traitorous body mourned the loss of his warm skin against mine, and every place we had touched thrummed for a few moments, even after I stood up and positioned myself at the footboard once more.

“Well, then,” I announced, trying to stay on task. “I’ve helped you to your room, as promised. I will collect you in the morning once you’ve had ample time to sleep off this faery concoction you so idiotically ingested.”

He slowly rolled to his side to fully face me once more. “Stay, Eedy.”

I scoffed, heat rising to my cheeks. “I think that is the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

His eyes drooped, but he flung an arm out toward me, his palm open, his slender fingers beckoning me back to the bed. “Eedy. Please.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and bit the inside of my cheek. How did I end up here? Stuck in the fae realm with a rake of a prince asking me to stay in his room for the night. How?

“Since you’re intoxicated, I’ll explain it slowly. You are engaged. To the daughter of a duke. To be married in the spring.”

He blinked slowly up at me, unfazed. “I’m not going to do anything to you, Eedy,” he said, exasperated.

My body bristled at his promise and a fire rumbled to life in my belly, burning up any butterflies that had even considered taking flight in there.

“Right. Of course,” I said, “because who could possibly want such a prickly, stubborn witch.”

“Who said I didn’t like prickly, stubborn things?”

“Nobody does.” I gritted my teeth, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s a universal fact.”

“I would like to challenge that fact.” He yawned, waving his pointer finger around wildly. “Insufficient data.”

I shook my head, clenching my lips into a tight line. I would not smile. I would not .

“Please, just stay,” he repeated. “I...don’t want to be alone.”

I would not. Could not. Absolutely not happening.

I sighed heavily. Then why am I still here?

I clung to the footboard, watching the smug prince of Eyre sprawled out on the bed completely unguarded. Helpless. Vulnerable.

I allowed myself to imagine him as a boy, hiding under the mahogany vanity in his aunt’s room, curled on the hard floor, cold and scared. Abandoned by family, people that were supposed to love and care for him. And still, he found something good in his hiding spot, the natural patterns and beauty in the inlaid and polished wood.

I saw him, clear and vibrant in my mind, placing a hand on a panel with his eyes wide with awe. With wonder.

Until the next time his uncle found him and beat it out of him. That was the only way that story ended, even if he hadn’t said it outright.

Right, then.

I sighed heavily as I shucked off my shoes into the corner of the room and tiptoed to the other side of the bed. I slipped in under the covers as best I could in the farthest, smallest corner of the bed, but because of the awkward angle at which Caelum was laying, his head still rested against my hip.

Hallows be, what would the council say? What would my father think?

I covered my face with my hands, mortified that he might somehow be able to see this from the afterlife. Me, curled up next to a pretentious royal because he told me my eyes reminded him of a piece of furniture.

While I lay there questioning my life decisions, there was movement next to me and soon a noticeable weight lay across my midsection.

I removed my hands from my face to find Caelum resting his head on me like his own exclusive pillow.

Of course he would not consider proper personal space in his current state.

“You’re very soft for a prickly witch,” he murmured against me.

“Noted,” I said, barely able to breathe, unsure if for his sake or mine.

“Thank you for staying, Eedy,” he whispered, his eyes closed, his furrowed brow relaxing, his breaths falling into a steady, even pace until he finally fell asleep.

Somehow, it was a comfortable pressure, his head fitting nicely in the hollow dip of my stomach. The faint pulse of his heart tapped against my hip where his chest rested, and his cool pine scent engulfed me, reminding me of the crisp woodsy air that you only find in a dense forest.

His hair was tousled over his face and, like a moth to a flame, my fingers found themselves pushing the golden locks away so I could properly see the crown prince of Eyre sprawled on top of me.

Something small and fragile fluttered in my chest the longer I stared at him.

Soon, though, the weight and warmth of him on me caused my own eyes to grow heavy. I reached out and rested my hand on his shoulder before finally closing my eyes. In those hazy moments before sleep fully took me, I felt a sensation against the inside of my wrist, like tiny wings brushing against it, lighting the spot ablaze.

As I drifted off to sleep, I dared to imagine that it was another moth, only this one preferred a streak of pure lightning over an ordinary flame.