Page 45 of Somber Prince

I should be relieved by that. And I was. Mostly. I even felt safer with him now, knowing there was no chance of any sexual aggression on his part. At the same time, there also was a slight tug of disappointment that I couldn’t explain.

“Can I have the dress now, please?” I stretched my hand.

Instead of handing it to me, however, he slid the garment over my head. The cool silk skimmed down my body, caressing my skin. The edge of the skirt draped over my hip on one side. As Rha straightened it out for me, the back of his fingers stroked down my naked thigh, but the caress didn’t feel intentional.

The cut of the dress left my back exposed. The neckline dipped in the front, draping over my chest. With deft, quick fingers, Rha laid out the fabric folds over my breasts, looking completely oblivious to my nipples hardening under his touch.

My curiosity spiked. If shadow fae felt no pleasure, did they still have sex? And if not, how did they reproduce? The thought that this handsome prince was never meant to come undone with desire felt depressing.

Satisfied with the way the dress fit me, Rha took the belt next. It was made from interconnected golden hexagons. Leaning over me, he circled me with his arms to bring the belt around my waist.

He smelled like desert sand heated by the sun, with a trace of sweet honeysuckle. The end of one of his thin braids fell behind my shoulder. As he straightened, moving away from me, the braid dragged over my shoulder. I picked it up, letting it slide between my fingers. The unbraided portion of it at the end tickled my skin. I caught it, raking my fingers through the ends.

“It’s soft.” I smiled. “Your hair looks thick and glossy. I didn’t expect it to feel like silk.”

His eyes darted to mine. Black smoke curled from his upper arms in tight spirals. Alarm zapped through me as his shadow tendrils reached for me. Dropping the braid, I leaped away.

The back of my legs hit the table with the puzzle. It tipped, sending the pieces raining down to the floor.

I watched in horror as the perfect lines of Rha’s snowflake design broke and deteriorated.

“Shit!” I gasped, grabbing the table.

But it was too late. Only one of the six rays remained. But it was now so crooked, even I couldn’t look at it without cringing. I could only imagine what this mess did to Rha’s sensitivity of a perfectionist.

“I’m so, so sorry.” I crawled on my knees, picking up the tiny pieces.

There were so many. I tried to fit them back in place, but only a highly sophisticated software program could possibly recreate the complicated pattern this man had going there. I frantically shuffled the pieces along the table, only making it worse.

Two large hands carefully covered mine, halting my fidgeting.

“Hush, Dawn.” His voice was soft and soothing, like a gentle breeze. “Calm. Breathe.”

“I’m so sorry, Rha. I ruined it…” My breath caught in my throat. Tears burned my eyes unexpectedly. My heart raced so fast I feared it would give out. “I always ruin things. I’m good at messing up. Everything. All the time. Not so good at fixing anything, though.”

Panic rushed over me. It was no longer just about the puzzle. All my life seemed to be broken and crumbling, lying in pieces at my feet, and I had no idea how to put it back together again.

He took my hand in his and carefully unfolded my clenched fingers, one by one. The pieces I’d clutched in it fell out. Their sharp edges left red welts in my palm.

“Just breathe, my sweet,” Rha murmured, gently rubbing my palm with his thumb to soothe the pain.

“You spent so much time putting it together, and I…” My lips trembled, words sticking in my throat like shards with sharp edges.

“I’ll put it together again. It’s not about the result, remember? The value of a puzzle is nothing when it’s solved and finished. Its purpose lies in the process.” He took my other hand, letting me drop the pieces clutched in there, too, then massaged my palm. “It’s not worth getting so upset over. I’ll come up with another design, possibly a better one. Breathe, Dawn, just breathe.”

I did. Listening to his deep, even voice, I focused on each slow breath I took.

Maybe I had overreacted by freaking out like that. The stress of the past few days had built up and now blew up in a panic attack. I’d never had one like this before and didn’t immediately know how to handle it.

But Rha helped. Somehow, he knew what I needed to do. Breath by breath, my heart rate slowed down a little.

Holding my hands, Rha was sitting on the floor on the other side of the table, and I didn’t remember when or how he’d sat down.

The sight of the colorful puzzle pieces strewed around brought another wave of guilt.

“Rha, I didn’t mean it,” I muttered apologetically.

“I know,” he said simply.

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