Page 46 of The Broken Prince

I wanted this quiet moment to last forever, to look at him beside me, a living statue of one of our guards, and forget about all the horrible things that happened over the last few days. I looked out the window behind him, seeing the pitch-black of the night. I knew I needed to return to the castle before my parents worried about my whereabouts, but I wanted to stay like this…forever.

He turned his head my way, as if he knew I was awake even though I hadn’t moved. His dark eyes locked on mine, and he stared, as if he experienced the same serenity that pumped through my veins. That invisible barrier was no longer between us, and I was ecstatic to feel my emotions to their full intensity rather than masking them and pretending they didn’t exist.

He turned toward me and came close, his arm moving around my waist, his smell surrounding me. He dipped his head and caught my lips with his for a kiss before he lay on the pillow beside me.

My fingers reached to feel the stubble against his jaw, to stroke the coarse hair on his handsome face. This man made me wet every time I looked at him, and if I didn’t have somewhere else to be, I would be on top of him right now. “I should go home…”

He didn’t ask me to stay, probably knowing that was best. “I’ll walk you.”

“I think it’s best if I’m seen alone at this time of night.”

“As you wish, Princess.”

I grinned. “I prefer ‘baby.’”

“Alright.” His palm flattened against my back, and he drew me close, pressing a hard kiss to my lips, an invitation to stay in that warm bed with him deep between my legs. “Baby.” When he pulled away, he did the sexiest thing, a subtle rub of his nose against mine. He left the bed and moved for his clothes, buck naked and powerful.

I stared at his muscular back that looked like it was carved with little daggers before I left the warm sheets and donned the clothes and armor I’d worn here. I fixed my hair with my fingertips so it wouldn’t be obvious that I’d been fucked incessantly the last few hours.

He pulled on his boxers and walked me downstairs, through the dark cottage, and to the front door.

He opened the door, like he didn’t care if anyone was outside who could spot him in his nakedness. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.” I rose on my tiptoes and kissed him, but my hand reached for his crotch and gave him a gentle squeeze.

He grinned against my lips. “Goodnight.”

I walked out and headed home, unable to suppress the smile on my face, the heat in my cheeks, the relief between my legs. When he’d denied me in the alleyway, it had hurt far more than I cared to admit. At first, I thought it was just the sting of rejection, but when the pain lingered, I knew it was more than that.

It was the pain of wanting someone so deeply…and not having them.

I walked back to the castle, following the light of the torches, and I entered the place I’d called home my whole life. The guards had returned to their positions around the castle, but none of them looked at me or questioned me, so my parents hadn’t asked them to alert them to my presence.

They were probably still with Atticus.

I headed to my bedroom, looking at the bed where I’d slept with Aurelias, where he’d held me all night but didn’t even kiss me. The bed looked so lonely now, too big for a single person. But I undressed and crawled inside, expecting to fall asleep instantly. But I stayed wide awake, needing the comfort only Aurelias could provide.

* * *

The next morning, a guard came to my bedroom. “His Majesty requests you join him in the infirmary.”

“Did Atticus wake up?”

“That’s all the information I have.”

I dressed quickly then headed down to the infirmary. When I walked into the bedroom, my parents were there, their eyes bloodshot from the exhaustion. My father looked nearly dead, all the stress and sleep deprivation hardening his features. My mother’s face looked strained too, like the pain in her neck still bothered her because it hadn’t had time to subside.

But Atticus was awake, sitting up in bed, his eyes heavy like he could sleep for another three days. But color had returned to his face, and when his eyes locked on mine, a little smile formed. “I heard you saved the kingdom.”

“I helped save the kingdom—as did you.” I moved past my parents to embrace him, but I was careful to handle him gently, not to apply too much pressure to his wounds that still needed to heal. “You look better.”

“More handsome?” he said. “It’s the battle scars.”

My heart melted at his good mood, the way he could dismiss a tragedy and make me smile.

“Can’t wait to try them out on the girls.” He flexed his right arm, where a long scar was forming from an enemy’s blade. He made his muscles plump over and over, showing off like he was with the boys.

I rolled my eyes. “I liked it better when you couldn’t talk.”

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