Page 39 of The Nymph Prince

“Now finish your meal.”

***

Malik watched me closely after my meal with Father. Questions burned in his eyes, but he didn’t voice them. A worried expression was in place of the normally stoic one, so I must’ve looked dreadful. He walked me to my room and stood outside my door as I went inside to change my clothes.

Father told me to join him in the throne room to hear petitions, and mycommonerattire displeased him. I rummaged through my wardrobe for a nice tunic and breeches that were befitting for a prince.

Sitting on a throne for hours on end, listening to people complain about trivial matters, became boring much too fast. I loved the people of Avalontis, but I didn’t need to hear about Samuel stealing Beatrice’s favorite dress and parading around the kingdom in it. I’d rather be training in the arena—which I’d be allowed to do once the petitions were over.

I wondered how we could go on with normal daily duties after the discussion we’d had. Shouldn’t we be gathering a force of warriors to travel to the surface and confront King James? That seemed like the logical thing to do instead of staying in Avalontis and pretending like a war wasn’t brewing outside its gates.

The knock at my door made me pause in the fastening of my belt. “Enter.”

Alek came into the room and shut the door.

His dark hair curled a little around his face and the braid he’d had the night before was gone. Strange how I fought against our customs when it came to myself, yet I missed seeing the braid in his hair. His shirt was opened in the front, revealing his strong chest and sun-kissed skin. Skin I wanted to mark with kisses. And bites.

My first thought was to slap him for leaving me the way he did the night before. But then my second thought was to pull him against me. What won over both of them, though, was my need for answers.

“Why did you—”

“I apologize for—”

We offered each other a small smile.

“I apologize for last night,” Alek continued, walking a little closer before stopping. He didn’t tread too close, clearly wanting to keep a distance between us.

Appropriate for him, since he was set on keeping a distance between us emotionally, as well.

“Why did you leave? I thought you wanted me.”

“I did. And I do.”

“But?”

“But it’s complicated,” he answered, and his eyes flashed silver before returning to their normal blue hue. “Intimacy is difficult for me.”

“You told me several stories of you fucking wenches in brothels,” I stated with bitterness and hurt in my tone. “If you can fuckthem, why can’t you fuck me, too?”

“Because you’re not just some whore in a brothel, Lorcan,” he snapped, striding forward until he was directly in front of me. He gripped my upper arm with one hand and slid the other to the back of my neck, gripping my nape. His face was inches from mine and his breath was hot on my mouth. “You’re irritating and stubborn. You have a biting, sarcastic tongue. You’re beautiful, even when you’re pokin’ fun at me. But especially when you blush.”

He pressed our heads together, and I wrapped my arms around him.

“You make me feel things I’m too afraid to feel,” he whispered.

I couldn’t stop the purr from rumbling in my throat. As embarrassing as it was, I had trouble controlling it. It happened when I was overcome with affection, and this ass of a mage had nestled his way into my heart. Even if I wasn’t quite ready to tell him that.

“You’re not the only one who’s afraid,” I said, pressing my face against his neck. Alek was everything that felt right in the world. He smelled of the earth, like sun-warmed rocks and dewy grass, and when I heard his voice—a quality that was a little raspy and deep—it was like a summer breeze, sweeping through my body and leaving nothing but warmth in its wake. “We’re connected and no amount of fighting will change it.”

He pulled me closer. Our bodies fit together perfectly. “It seems too soon to have the thoughts I’m havin’.”

I adored hearing his accent. He still tried to hide it at times, but I felt it was more out of habit and not because he didn’t trust me.

“Fate cares little for time,” I responded. “Days, weeks, years… if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

“Butwhyare we connected? There has to be a purpose. Nothing happens without reason.”

I wondered the same. Why were we connected and had been for the past year? Was it a love at first sight deal? That wouldn’t be true for me, though.