Page 52 of A Trial of the Heart

“I know,” Daxton said.

“I will be on the steps,” Castor announced as he moved out of sight. “Don’t want any more surprise visitors for today.”

Then, it was just the two of us, surrounded by nothing but the fae lights that glistened in the shadowed passageway.

Daxton spoke more with his actions than his words. The meanings behind his gentle touch, his mannerisms, or his demeanor spoke for him when words could not. Me, on the other hand, I tended to fill the silence with a never-ending sea of questions or wonderings.

But now… just mere moments before the first trial, I was uncharacteristically silent.

“Hold back your hair,” Daxton said softly. “I’ll help you fasten the chest plate. It might be large right now, but once you set it in place, it will mold to fit your frame.”

“Magic?”

“Magic.” He nodded.

“I thought magic was unable to enter the labyrinth.”

“Magical objects tend to play by their own rules at times,” he said. “And wearing another layer of protection won’t hinder you—magical or not.”

I turned around so he could help fasten the leather straps of the black armor around my back. It was loose, mainly around my shoulders, while cutting into my hips and narrowing around my chest.

“Apparently, a much larger male wore this before me.”

“Clearly,” Daxton huffed in agreement as his hands traced over the curve of my hips and rested for a moment on my backside.

I arched my brow at him, giving him a playful smirk. “I don’t think there are any clasps that far down.”

“My mistake.” He chuckled.

“You, Daxton, High Prince of Silver Meadows, are admitting to a mistake?”

“Are you referring to my wandering hands?” Daxton asked as he snapped the last tie into place, the armor molding perfectly around me, just like he said it would. “Or my lingering eyes?”

I turned around to glare at him. “Both,” I teased. “But please, feel free to continue making them.” There it was, that sweet smile that kindled the fire in my heart and stirred my animal to life inside my chest.

“I needed to see that,” I said as I reached up to cup his face in my hand. He leaned into my touch as I caressed his cheek. “Answer me this…” I asked with a hint of playfulness in my tone.

“Anything.”

“Careful what you promise, Princey.”

“Care to test the limits of my words?” he asked.

The corner of my mouth turned upward as I formulated my grand question. “How do you keep your beard so trimmed and yet still so soft?”

Daxton bit his lower lip, and his eyes closed with a laugh hiding behind his lips. “That? That is the question tumbling around in your inquisitive mind?”

“Why not?”

Daxton shook his head and reached to grasp my hand in his, uncaging his smile so it reached his pointed ears. “Magic.”

“But of course!” I said with an air of lightness that I knew we both needed before I tumbled into the suffocating unknowns of the labyrinth.

Daxton pulled me closer, wrapping his arm securely around my middle. “What else do you need, Skylar?”

Well, that is the question of the century now, isn’t it?

I gazed up into his luminous storm-gray eyes, never wanting to forget them or how I felt when he looked at me like this. What did I need? Was he asking what I needed to succeed in the trials or what I needed in the silent moment wrapped in his cocoon of strength? Was the answer one and the same?

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