Slowly, painfully slowly, she began to hear a distant drumming. It was a familiar rhythm, and it called to her. Vhalla allowed it to flow back into her, it resonating through every aspect of her consciousness. It was a slow transition as the world faded into blackness.

Her eyes fluttered open. Aldrik’s face hovered above her, and he let out a small relieved laugh. For the second time in one day she found herself pressed against his chest. Vhalla sighed softly. It was a trend she could learn to live with.

“You scared me again,” he muttered. “That’ll be the last time we do that.”

“No,” Vhalla insisted with a shake of her head. “I’ll get it, I just need more practice. I pushed too hard.”

He studied her carefully, and she yawned, suddenly feeling exhausted. She made no motion to get up, and he made no motion to remove her from his person. Vhalla’s eyelids drooped closed.

“Rest,” the prince instructed.

She shifted slightly, her ear against his chest. “Aldrik?” she inquired with another yawn.

“Vhalla?”

She struggled to find the right words. “This is a really, really awful idea.”

Vhalla felt him stiffen a moment, and he let out a small sigh. “I know.” His voice was barely audible. “I know. Now rest.”

Vhalla felt her consciousness fade as she was swathed in a comfortable warmth that only he could exude.

Chapter 9

VHALLA WAS ONE of those perpetually cold people. With a small amount of body fat, likely due to her spotty eating habits when wrapped up in something, she was usually the first to complain about a chill. She had long since accepted it as part of her lot in life and dressed as warmly as possible to make up for it.

However, at this particular moment she was pleasantly warm. It was a surreal feeling and, in her half-sleep haze, she shifted, pressing herself closer to the source. That source adjusted itself beneath her before settling again. The unfamiliar sensation brought Vhalla back to awareness. Her mind was sluggish with sleep, and she struggled to make sense of it.

His heartbeat was the first thing she heard. Slow and strong against her right ear. The second thing she heard was the scratching of quill on paper. Vhalla cracked open her eyes and saw she rested in the crook of Aldrik’s left arm, which wrapped around her side. She was halfway onto his lap as he sat cross legged on the floor. Stretched across her was his right hand as he marked papers on the table.

The previous events came back in pieces, punctuated with a yawn.

“You’re up.” Aldrik placed the quill on the table and ran a hand through his hair. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” she responded groggily.

“I could tell.” His tone was flat but his posture had no heaviness to it. “I’m fairly certain you depleted most of your magic and fell into your Channel.”