Page 41 of What Lies Within Blood & Heirs

Warm skin.She smiled, forgetting for a moment, forgetting what a warm body lying in bed with her could do, and nuzzled her face closer to that heartbeat.

Had a calm, deep voice that evoked visions of the night sky not broken through the winter silence, she would’ve panicked. But Garrik’s voice, warm as his arms around her, began, “Forgive me,” and any fear stirring instantly melted. “I am afraid I had to force a decision for you this time. You were fading too quickly and so damn cold, I ... had no choice.”

It was then she realized they were mostly skin-to-skin. Leathers shed, drenched above their heads. Both so close they shared breath.

Garrik was folded around her, legs interlaced with hers. Bursts of blissful friction from his rubbing hands sparked across her back under a blanket. Occasionally, his finger caught on a strap on her shoulder?—

So … she wasn’t fully naked. Then again, Garrik would never put her in that position. She trusted that without a doubt.

Stars.It felt like a dream.

Warm and perfect and lovely laying there like nothing else mattered.

She should’ve been embarrassed—being in only her underthings. Pressed against the hardened planes of muscles of … of Elysian’s High Prince. But this was better than freezing to death. And far more enjoyable.

“Where are we?” she asked.

That gentle caress tingled against her mind. Even without her wall of flames, he still waited to be allowed inside.

She nodded and saw, through Garrik’s eyes, what had happened after the chill of the lake and death of winter froze her to the bones.

A break in the trees in front of him—their salvation.

Garrik stormed forward to an abandoned building. Its boards were old and rotted, falling apart, allowing winter to trickle inside. A double-sided door swung in the merciless wind, slamming into the sides of the structure.

A barn.

Exhaling relief, Garrik trudged forward.

His frozen limbs ached terribly as he cradled Alora against him. Growing weaker and weaker, every nerve tortured him. The ice forming on his skin offered only punishment as he stepped through the door.

To his right, a rickety ladder and loft with mounds of loose straw underneath while stacks of bales, sickly brown-yellow and half-molded, were falling apart. Snowflakes danced through the collapsing roof.

Under the loft was the only area sufficient for shelter, so Garrik laid Alora on the straw before he pulled the double doors closed and knelt by her side.

Starsdamnit.She was barely there—breathing too shallow.

If they did not warm up soon …

No.He would not allow himself to think of that. Would not allow her to die.

Garrik rummaged through the backpack and breathed a sigh of relief when he found a rolled wool blanket. It would not be enough to warm them entirely, but it was something.

He covered Alora in it, and with his last remnants of strength, Garrik created walls of stacked bales around them, leaving enough space for a small doorway. Creating a small room where their body heat could collect inside.

Alora blinked away Garrik’s memory.

When shivers pricked across her skin, he adjusted the blanket over her, and as if the vision wasn’t enough of an answer, he added, “We are in our bed for the night.”

A weak, sarcastic grin crept up her face. “I knew you would get me in your bed.”

Garrik lightly scoffed. “So it would seem.” Brushing a hair behind her ear. The movement settled moonlight on his mutilated death mark. “That is three times now you have fallen for me. Do not makethisa habit.”

A rush of icy wind.

Instinctively, she pressed against him. Desperately hoping to soak up more of his warmth.

His warm breath fanned over her neck as he spoke. “Hopefully only a few more hours and winter should turn to spring.”

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