Page 61 of The Rose in the Shadows

He would have protected me.

The realization left my chest fluttering for a moment… until I suddenly rememberedwhyhe would have done that.

These words about wanting to keep me safe were promises made to Hyrax, not to me. None of this was about me. It was about my bloodline.

Which left me feeling cheap and unimportant.

“You should sleep,” Clay instructed with a tired sigh. “We need to leave early in the morning before my father realizes you were out of the castle.”

Before I knew what he was doing, he reached over his shoulder, grabbed the neck of his cotton tunic, and pulled it over his head, tossing it to me. I sat frozen, eyes skimming over the expanse of him. Tan skin covered an impressively muscular torso. Just above the line of his dangerously low-hanging trousers, I could make out the shape of a dragon wing. His Descendants Mark. Without meaning to, my tongue darted out to wet dry lips as I wondered aimlessly about therestof that tattoo.

“Quit ogling me,” he ordered, snapping me out of my highly inappropriate thoughts.

The heat of a flush peppered my cheeks, but as I quickly returned my eyes to his face, I found only upturned lips and an expression of amusement.

“I have to go settle our bill. Change while I do so. That dresshardly looks comfortable.”

"It's actually not that bad, you don't have to-"

"For me, Thea. That dress isn't making thingscomfortablefor me."

Oh.

His lips curled unhappily against the word, and his eyes were heated as they roamed over my body, lingering at the flesh that sat exposed through the tops of the slits. Apparently his eyes didn't just shine golden when he was angry. Magic filled them when he felt… other things too. I shivered, feeling a slight comfort in knowing that I wasn’t the only one entertaining inappropriate thoughts. The motion was enough to snap him out of whatever place his mind had traveled to, and he cleared his throat in a rush. Without another word, he turned and left, leaving me alone and clutching his shirt to me.

Clay was gone for some time. While he was away, I’d discarded the dress in favor of his too-large tunic. It hung wide, falling over one shoulder and skimming the tops of my knees, but it was certainly morecomfortable. And I didn’t mind admitting that the smell of cinnamon and oak was somewhat comforting as it enveloped me.

Still, it did little to provide any warmth. As I tried to settle into the bed and sleep, I couldn’t stop the shivers that terrorized my body. The patter of rain sounded outside and a brisk wind pounded against the window. I buried my face into the flat pillow as I waited for the air to still.

But it wasn’t just the cold that kept me awake.

It was the way I seemed acutely aware of every place that fabric touched my skin. It was the growing tension in my core that screamed for some kind of release. I was coldandhot. I shivered while I trembled with need.

The door opened slowly and though my back was turned, I could hear Clay tentatively step inside as if he worried he might wake me. The floor creaked under his weight at first, but then the only sound was that of the rain falling on the pavement outside.

“You’re cold,” he observed, voice hardly more than a whisper.

The rational part of my brain told me I should pretend I was asleep. That part of me knew that continuing any conversation with him wouldn’t end well, not when I was so desperate to be touched. But the other part of meneededto be touched.

I needed to feel safe.

And even if he had only protected me because of what I represented, I couldn’t deny that Clay had made me feel safe tonight.

I needed him more than I needed rational thought.

So, I turned, and I met his gaze.

“May I?” he asked, pointing to the bed.

Afraid my voice would betray the fire in my blood, I only nodded, and he pulled aside the sheet and sank onto the bed next to me.

There wasn’t enough space for the two of us, but I didn’t mind. I wanted to feel him pressed against me. I wanted to explore his body like it was my own, to find out what the rest of his tattoo looked like from where it lay hidden by the belt of his pants.

“Dragons run warm,” he explained, guiding me to lie back on my side once more. He wrapped an arm around my stomach and pulled me closer to him, while his other arm slipped under my neck to wrap around my chest. His skin was indeed hot to the touch. Waves of heat rolled off of him and enveloped me in warmth. Slowly, my shivering eased, and my thoughts all collided into one single demand.

I pressed myself against him, relishing in the small growl that escaped his throat as I ground my hips into his hardness.

“Thea,” he warned. “I should have told you that the drug they gave you can have a bit of an arousing effect.”

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