Page 8 of Princess of Air

I pressed my lips to his, and the world ceased to exist. Though my heart was racing, everything seemed to slow down. Minutes stretched as his lips moved with mine in deep, slow waves. The stubble I had been dying to touch was rough under my hand in stark contrast to the softness of his mouth. His hands pressed into my lower back, and my concentration was broken enough that my wall dissipated.

There was a delay, like even if I couldn’t save the moment, the world wanted us to have it. But inevitably, the sea crashed in on us.

***

Now, as we lie in the warm grass, I think about that wave crashing into us and how it feels that way still. Every time.

Tomas’ finger brushes up and down my spine. “Bell, are you telling me I may have just bedded the next Queen of Alchos?”

“For so many reasons, no. Not the least of which being that there is no bed in sight.”

Laughing on the ground, he’s even more alluring than the smooth, confident persona he tortures me with. That all gets shed with his clothes. When we’re dressed only in sunlight, he stops trying to impress me. He doesn’t need to.

“How did Ry take it?”

“Minor earthquake, almost strangled Nina with a plant, but he offered me cake.”

He snorts. “That isn’t how he typically treats adversaries.”

“I’m not his adversary. I’m going to help him hold off Nina and Marcus so he can win.”

The news came as a shock, of course. Reclined and panting in post-coital bliss was probably a more jarring time to hear Rylan may not be crowned heir after all than our dinner was. With the help of some tactile distractions, Tomas had just calmed down, but now he sits up with a start. “No you’re not.”

“Yes I am.”

“You’re too competitive for that.”

I prop myself up on my elbows and cover my face with my hands as I sigh. Having this conversation naked feels like a worse idea by the second. “This is quite different from my… motivation to master my magic.” That wasn’t a competitive issue at all. It was more a matter of completing myself. Then, there were other reasons to… But that doesn’t matter. “I do not want this crown. It’s meant to be Rylan’s.”

Tomas’ eyes darken. His disapproval is so subtle I shouldn’t notice it. But without clothing to shield him, the same tightness in his jaw is visible in the extra definition of his broad chest and muscled arms. “And you’re getting your own.”

“And I’m getting my own.” I hold his gaze, silently daring him to say more about my betrothal. He won’t, though. He never has. Somehow, the topic always feels like a fight we aren’t putting into words. My nerves simmer before frustration with myself for getting more heated about this than he does takes the place of the argumentative tension.

“What would happen if you won?”

“They’d expect me to wear two crowns, which sounds like a disaster for my hair.” This time, he ignores my banter. Perhaps I’m losing my touch. I sit up and turn to grab my dress. If I’m not looking at him, I can imagine he looks disappointed that this is not an opportunity to get out of my betrothal. Not that he should—we’re merely a physical and temporary dalliance.

A sigh pulls my shoulders down along with my spirits. As I dress, I say, “They’ll likely be waiting for me to delve into further details about this inanity. Hopefully everyone has calmed down by now.”

“You’re already eerily calm about the matter.” Tomas’ voice is tighter as the ruffling of fabric tells me his trousers are back on.

I turn back to face him again. “That’s because I’m the only one with nothing to lose.”

Chapter five

A stable hand drops his shoulders in relief when I come into view. “Your Grace, you’re wanted in the Queen’s study.”

“Thank you.” I hop down without taking his offered hand.

“Miss, I…” His face reddens as he takes the reins.

“What is it?”

“The stable master was… displeased I had readied a horse for you and not told him. When asked if you had left, he didn’t know, and—”

“Oh my. You won’t be in any trouble, I assure you. My movements should not be reported at all times, and frankly, I don’t need a horse to leave the palace grounds, so it’s beyond anyone to know where I am. I’ll take care of it.”

He nods hastily. “Thank you, Your Grace. I’m sorry to be a bother.”

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