Page 40 of The Reign of Blood

“You can’t be broken, Adrianna. You’re incredible.” I don’t know where the words come from, but I wish they would return to their source.

“You’re full of shit,” she grumbles, and even though a part of me agrees with that statement, I find myself stating the complete opposite.

“No, I’m not.”

She shakes her head, finally stepping out of my hold, and I let her go. “I was a lowly fae a few weeks ago.NowI’m incredible. That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve heard in a long time,” she points out, and all I can do is shrug.

“I didn’t see your worth then,” I offer, the truth spilling from my lips once again, and I don’t like it.

“You mean you didn’t know I was of royal blood. Is that it?”

“Maybe.”

It’s not true. It’s so far from the fucking truth, but it seems I’m on a mission of self-destruction.

“At least you’re honest,” she mutters, and I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, refusing to correct her.

She yawns as her eyes fall to the ground, a sigh parting her lips a moment later, and I feel it in my bones.

“You need to rest.”

“Maybe.”

Wetting my lips, I consider my options. They’re limited, and as much as a part of me wants to take off and be selfish like usual, I can’t. “Can you handle me moving you?” My question lingers in the air. There’s something going on with her that she doesn’t want to discuss with me, and right now, I don’t want to hear it. Even if it’s the key to me being the heir of the Floodborn Kingdom, I don’t want it. “I’m going to take your silence as a yes,” I state when she gives me nothing.

My hands fall to her waist and she tucks herself in against my chest. I feel her tense in anticipation before I take off. I try to make it as fast and smooth as possible, and a moment later, we’re outside her bedroom door.

I make sure she’s steady on her feet before I take a step back.

Glancing at her door handle, I point to the item resting there. “There’s a rose.”

“There always is.” She turns to take it, running her fingertips over the petals.

“Always?”

“I’m collecting them. This is rose number four,” she explains, her words having a whimsical undertone.

“You’re keeping them?”

“They call to my magic; of course, I am,” she retorts as if it were obvious, and I nod.

She looks up at me with a sleepy edge to her gaze and I reach up to stroke my thumb across her cheek.

“What are you doing?” she asks, and I shake my head.

“I don’t know.” My gaze flickers between her eyes and her pouty lips.

We’re still close, chest to chest, with our breaths mingling between us. My heart rattles inside me, a feeling I’m not all that familiar with unless it stems from adrenaline, but this is different.

I inch closer, despite my head screaming for me to turn away and run. She doesn’t move, so I eliminate another. And another. And another. Until the heat of her lips is pressed against mine.

Warmth dances between us as I bask in her energy.

It’s everything.

It’s too much.

It’s intoxicating.

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