Page 41 of Ruled By Magic

His hand flashed out and caught my wrist. “No. Don’t. Stay with me.”

I faced him. He watched me with a strange intensity. Getting to his feet, he drew me in close and I leaned against his shoulder. I could barely stand.

“I’m exhausted.”

“I know, I’m tired too. Let’s lie down together in my room.”

My head snapped up. He said it so casually, as though his room wasn’t off-limits. As if us falling asleep together was a normal thing. I couldn’t read his expression. Serious, and maybe a little nervous? Hard to recognize anything other than confidence on his face.

If he could pretend this wasn’t a big deal, so could I. “Sure.”

We headed to the door, and he pushed it open.

“It’s a bit of a mess. I don’t let the cleaners in here, so...” He trailed off.

I drank it in. The dull professional sterility of the rest of the apartment made perfect sense. Everything interesting lived in here. The walls held photos, several of the Lord Commander with an older man. His father? Group shots taken at wild-looking parties. Faded pictures of a woman with a small child. His mother? He was smiling in every one.

Odd ornaments were scattered about. A tacky clock balanced on the back of a turtle. A snow globe. A birthday tankard with “30” printed on it and a verse I couldn’t make out. Chaotic and cluttered, not designed to impress. The bed was made in a lazy fashion, the cover thrown in the right direction but not smoothed out or tucked in. A book—a battle mage thriller—lay open on the pillow. An empty mug sat on the bedside table. One of his expensive suits languished in a crumpled heap in the corner.

I loved it.

I loved everything about it. So real and honest and perfectly normal. He smiled, and the warmth in his eyes pulled me toward him.

“I try to keep my clutter in here, so the rest of the place stays tidy.”

I smiled back. “It’s great. Now I won’t feel so guilty if I leave stuff sitting around out there. I know your secret.”

He gestured to the bed. “Shall we?”

Sleep. Such a strange thing to do in a bed, with him, but my exhaustion loomed. Excitement had fought it down, but it lurked, waiting to crash over me. He looked tired too, his face drawn. He must have used lots of magic to get us down the mountain. I nodded.

Undressing together felt strangely intimate, and I looked away, shy. It was ridiculous. He saw me naked every day. He’d made my clothes vanish, removed them himself, and ordered me to take them off, slowly, while he watched. He’d touched every single inch of my body, made me beg, bruised and soothed my skin. I should be incapable of any modesty around him. But without the screaming frenzy of sexual arousal that always accompanied such moments, it was different.

We climbed under the covers. He held out his arm, and I curled into him, my head on his chest. He was warm and solid, and I breathed in his scent, letting my hand slide over the smooth planes of his stomach.

He stroked my hair over and over, the motion so soothing my eyes began to close. “Sweet dreams, Liv.” His voice resonated through my cheek.

“Sweet dreams, Lord Commander.”

His hand paused. He turned around so we lay face to face, sharing a pillow. His eyes were bright, and I marveled at the impossible perfection of his face.

“I think, by this point, you should start calling me Leo.”

Warmth spread through me, shock mingled with sleepy joy.

“Leo,” I repeated.

It sounded wrong. He was the Lord Commander. The title I’d once cringed at using was so entwined with him, I couldn’t imagine calling him something else. But that was stupid, wasn’t it? It was just his job title. It wasn’t him.

“I like hearing you say that. No one in the palace is allowed. I sometimes go days without hearing my name at all.”

How lonely that would be.

I slid closer to him. He brought his arm over me and I closed my eyes, unable to fight off the heaviness any longer.

“Goodnight, Leo,” I said, and I heard him sigh as I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke and lay still, unwilling to break the spell. The Lord Commander—Leo—slept with one arm tucked around me. His chest moved as he breathed in the soft rhythm of sleep.

---