Vhalla felt a flush rise across her whole body. She took a half step closer, closing the gap between them. Aldrik tilted his cheek into her bold fingertips as they made feather-light trails over his pronounced cheekbone. Vhalla outlined his brow, down over the bump in his nose, the edge of his jaw, she wanted to remember every detail exactly. Her thumb brushed the corner of his lips and she felt herself move without thinking.

Aldrik tilted his head to meet her halfway, ensnaring her in a slow and purposeful kiss. Every shift, every brief opening of his mouth, made her ache for more. Aldrik’s fingers buried themselves in her hair. She was pulled against him, sighing in soft release as she felt his magic slip over her skin once more.

The prince pulled away suddenly.

Vhalla swallowed, blinking. “Aldrik ...” Her voice was strange even to her own ears, desire changing it.

“I love you, Vhalla,” Aldrik forced himself to say.

Vhalla pulled her head back in shock, her eyes wide. Her heart pounded and she repeated his words in her mind. “What?” Somehow she’d pushed from her consciousness the notion of him having the same feelings for her as she had for him.

“I love you,” he repeated, a determined fire lighting his eyes. “It is one of the worst things I could ever do,” Aldrik confessed. “I swear to the Mother, I have tried not to damn you with it. But you’re a rather persistent, beautiful presence in my life. And, for once, the silver-tongued prince is tired of pretending.”

Chapter 19

VHALLA SHIFTED A pile of blankets about her. Her head was hazy with sleep as she rolled over. Long fingers ran through her hair, snagging lightly on tangles. She nestled into the pillow, not opening her eyes. Vhalla reached out for Aldrik under the covers, finding him but unable to touch. Her eyes cracked open.

“Good morning.” Aldrik sat next to her on top of the blankets. He leaned against pillows and the headboard. His far knee was bent, a board with papers on top of it. Vhalla noted the fingers of his right hand were already stained with ink; he must have been at it for a while.

“Good morning, my prince.” She smiled up at him. Vhalla remembered curling up with him on the chaises for a thousand kisses the night before, but she couldn’t seem to recall how they’d made it to the bed. However, it was a mountain of fluff that she could sink into; her clothes were still in place; and she didn’t recall taking anything that would have made her lose her head, so she wasn’t particularly worried about anything untoward.

Vhalla propped herself up on her elbows, rubbing her eyes. The curtains in the side room had been pulled back a tad and the beam of sunlight cutting through the air told her that it was sometime past dawn. “What time is it?”