Page 162 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

“But you will still leave.”

He sighs. He reaches across the board and tucks away a strand of my hair. His fingers linger longer than necessary, tracing the line of my ear. I hold very still.

“It’s for your own benefit that I do not marry you my people’s way,” he murmurs. “If I am forced to leave you, you will be free to remarry. If we seal our bond with magic, however, as long as we are both alive—no matter where in the worlds—that bond is very, very difficult to break.”

The words are dull thuds against my heart. It all makes rational sense. It makes even more sense when I consider my own secrets.

My time with Rahk has an ending point. It always has. I’ve known this. It fueled my jealousy when he said he was marrying. It fuels my grief now.

“It’s not fair that the only man good enough to not care about my fortune is a fae,” I mutter bitterly.

Rahk flops onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as a great exhalation leaves him. His voice is a whisper of defeat. “I don’t know what to do, Kat.”

Those words hang in the air, an echo of my own feelings. I don’t know what to do with this mess of a situation—with this mess of a marriage.

I curl beneath the blankets and study the board because there is nothing else to do. Then, to my surprise, I see the end of the game in just a few moves. I take my turn. “You’re going to finish this game. That is what you’re going to do.”

He rolls to his side, dully staring at the pieces. A moment later, his eyes widen. I can almost see the calculations running in his brain—a last, desperate attempt to pull his usual win. Slowly, he lifts his gaze to mine. His mouth curves upward.

“Make your move,” I say, jutting out my chin and trying to keep a straight face.

He shakes his head, smiling, as he does the best he can. We take our last moves, but he can only delay my victory by a mere turn. When, at long last, I claim the fourth and final spot surrounding the Fool, my saucy grin breaks free. “There. I win.”

And just for one moment, the demons and worries flee Rahk’s face entirely. With one swift motion, he swipes away the board, scattering the pieces. I read the look in his eye and say, “No, don’t you dare!” as I try to rip aside the covers and flee.

But he grabs me, grinning when I holler in protest, and pulls me to him. He tickles my ribs until I’m almost screaming with tortured laughter. He pauses once, letting me catch my breath, and warns me in a low whisper, with a conspiratorial smirk, “Careful about how loud you are. You’ll worry Mary.”

“You devil!” I cry, just before he pins my arms above my head so I am defenseless against his attacks. I roll and kick and writhe, trying to free myself as I laugh hysterically.

He finally stops, pulling me into his arms and holding me close as he buries his face in my shoulder. He chuckles as I reclaim my lost breath.

“That was not fair,” I grumble.

He holds me tightly, no longer playing, and I find myself relaxing against him.

“I do not know what we are going to do,” Rahk murmurs against my skin. “But I am not going to abandon you, Kat. I swear it.”

I cannot find my voice to reply, so I just nod and close my eyes.

Chapter 50

Kat

Iwaketothesmell of wind and open skies. I breathe deeply and sigh.

“You’re awake,” Rahk rumbles. His voice is very, very close.

I open my eyes and find my vision completely full of a thick neck and silver hair glistening in the sunlight. My nose is tucked beneath his Adam’s apple, and my lips rest against the hollow of his throat.

Then I become aware of the rest of my . . .situation. My head rests on his shoulder. I’m lying pressed up against him, my hands curled up to his chest, my leg tossed over his hip as though I am a squirrel clinging to a branch. One of his hands rests just above my knee, while the other presses lightly into my low back.

“Did you sleep well?” Rahk asks, nuzzling into my hair.

“I . . . did,” I reply hesitantly. I’m very, very warm—too warm. I should scramble out of his arms, straighten my nightgown, and reclaim my dignity.

But I don’twantto.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask, sliding my leg back down to the bed where it’s supposed to be. He lets go of my knee.

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