Page 123 of Heat of the Everflame

He pulled away and disappeared down the hall.

An intense cocoonof heat coiled around me, stirring me from what was already a restless sleep. Two strong arms looped around my body and pulled me into the air. A flash of panic gave way to relief as a familiar musk filled my nose.

“Luther,” I murmured drowsily.

“Go back to sleep.”

My bone-tired body whimpered to do exactly that, though I fought the pull.

After Luther left, Alixe and Taran had distracted me with lessons on how to use my magic, until eventually they surrendered to exhaustion and retired to bed. Unable to getLuther’s last words out of my head, I had curled up into an armchair by the fire to nurse an overfull glass of whiskey and stare at the door, awaiting his return. At some point, I must have drifted off.

“You finally get a bed and you choose to sleep on floors and chairs,” he said softly.

His teasing tone soothed my nerves. I nuzzled into his chest and the blissful warmth soaking through his sweater. “You were gone so long.”

“I’m sorry I worried you. I lost track of time.”

“Where did you go?”

He rested his chin atop my head. “To pray. I saw a shrine to Blessed Mother Lumnos on our way in, and I wanted to make an offering.”

“What were you praying for?”

He didn’t answer for a long moment. I shifted my hand until it sat above his heart.

“Peace,” he whispered with a shaky exhale.

He laid me on the bed and covered me in downy blankets, then fussed over a hearth in the corner until the room warmed.

He moved to the edge of the bed beside me and placed his hand next to mine. I was instantly taken back to the morning after the armory fire, when I’d woken up in a palace bed with him at my side. It was the first day he’d let me see his smile—that true, brilliant, world-illuminating smile I hadn’t yet realized was only for me.

What I wouldn’t give to see that smile on his face again.

He let out a sigh. “I owe you an apology for how I acted earlier. I was out of line.” He hooked a finger around mine. “I’ve never cared for anyone the way I care for you. Knowing you’re in danger brings out a darkness in me I’m not proud of.”

“Are you angry at me?”

“I am angry. But not at you.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “Never at you, my Queen.”

“At Alixe? Luther, she didn’t—”

“Not at her, either. She did exactly what I would have done, if the Crown were anyone but you.”

I looped another finger through his. “Then who are you angry at?”

He stared at our joined hands, the muscles along his throat flexing as if struggling to pull the words forward—or fighting to keep them down.

He leaned down and set a kiss on my temple. “Sleep, my Queen.”

“Wait—don’t go. I promise I won’t touch you.”

He flinched, like my words had struck a blow.

“Stay,” I pleaded.

An unreadable emotion swam across his face, while my heart held its breath in hope. His eyes glowed faintly with the final embers of his magic before it flickered and disappeared, silent once more.

With a deep breath, he rounded the bed and climbed in beside me. Even the two feet of empty space between us and his awkward position—flat on his back and fully clothed, his guarded expression fixed on the ceiling—couldn’t dampen my relief.

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