Page 26 of The Princess and the Demon

That doesn’t sit well with me, and I frown.

A few moments later her breaths even out, and her sniffling ceases. I turn myself over gently, trying not to disturb her, and I take her in now that I’m able.

Her silver hair spans the space between us, and I lean forward slightly, inhaling deeply.

I would ensure she had all the jasmine oil she needed.

She shifts slightly before rolling to her back, her hand resting beside her face. I freeze, expecting her to startle awake.

She releases a deep sigh, and I relax, letting out the breath I was holding.

I allow myself to drink in her face. She’s breathtaking, with long, dark lashes that lay against lightly freckled cheeks. Her full lips part slightly as she inhales shallowly.

Her skin looks so soft, and my finger twitches with the desire to test the theory.

I grimace at myself.

I’m laying here ogling a human female like it’s the first time I’m seeing one. I’d been with many in my existence.

They’re weak creatures.

I huff out a gentle breath.

So why was this so different?

She’s strong.

The thought crosses the back of mind, but I have a feeling that’s not the only reason. I reach out, brushing a lock of hair out of her face gently.

She had made well and sure there were no loopholes in her spell, and we were bound by blood now. It intrigued and impressed me that she was able to pull off such an intricate evocation spell.

Whatever she was, witch or not, I knew in that moment that I would do anything to protect her.

Anything.

Turning away from her, I close my eyes to sleep.

Elora

I awaken slowly, stretching and yawning. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so well. Memories of last night invade my mind, and I shoot up with a gasp into a seated position, my heart hammering wildly in my chest.

“Calm yourself human.” The deep voice comes from a large, high-backed chair by the fire. I can’t see him, but I know he’s there…

Amon.

Clearing my throat, I pull myself to the edge of the bed, smoothing my skirts and trying to finger my sleep-tousled locks.

“Good morning.” I say softly, although I’m not really sure if its morning.

There are no windows in this room, and from the look of it nothing to keep time, either. I had no idea whether it was actually day or night.

Standing slowly, I let my eyes rove around the room. It was ornate, and beautifully decorated, if not a bit macabre.

The ceiling was ornate, and tapestries hung the lengths of the wall behind the bed and against one side of the room.

I walk slowly, meandering around, fingering the tapestries and peeking behind them.

Ornate sconces bathed the room in a dim glow, but the majority of the light came from the fireplace.

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