Page 402 of Flirting with Darkness

I know that,he snaps back.

I resist the urge to pull my hand from his arm and keep walking forward.

Silence stretches through the last mile until we arrive at a small clearing with another, different freshwater stream.

It’s deep enough for bathing. I suggest you do so.

How I’m supposed to bathe while also holding on to him so whatever creatures make this place their home didn’t eat me isn’t a question I look forward to asking.

Just as I’m collecting the incredulous tone to do the question justice, the king waves his hand and a sheet of shimmering light and magic encircles us as well as a large swath of stream.

“This will keep at bay anything that might harm you.”

Now that my right hand no longer belongs to him, I fold my arms over my chest and take a few steps forward. “Why didn’t you just do that at the start? Put your little protection bubble around us as we travel.”

The king’s gaze ignites as he leans close to me. “And deny you the opportunity to touch me? I wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”

I snarl at him. Actually snarl. “Stop calling me princess, you prig.”

His mouth curves into a devious smile. “Fine. What shall I call you then, Liesl Aderyn, Daughter of the Keepers?”

My back stiffens, bracing to be hollowed out to his will.

I stand there, waiting, dreading what’s about to happen for several moments.

But it doesn’t happen. My body, mind, and will are my own.

I question him with my eyes.

“From your studies, you should know name magic is intent-based,” he says with a smirk.

“Then feel free to stop calling me those childish names.”

“Oh, but I do so like my pet names,” he murmurs in that dulcet, honeyed voice.

In spite of the screaming urge to kick him in the head again, I turn my back to him and disrobe as quickly as possible, happy to finally scrub myself clean of the cave dirt and smoke.

I didn’t think about putting on the same dirty, torn dress. Or how strangely at ease I am despite being so far out of my routine, my rules.

Wrong dress, wrong breakfast…

I didn’t even say my prayers this morning.

What did it matter now that I’d unleashed the “demon?”

I’d hoped for a few efficient movements leading to a pile of satin on the ground, but instead of a quick and graceful entrance into the water, I struggle to get the laces of my dress undone. Without a word, the king’s warm fingers replace mine. He tugs the knots free and unfastens the line of small buttons down my spine.

I can’t help but shiver when his finger brushes the back of my neck.

The moment my dress is loose enough to slide off my shoulders, I do so, and quickly wade into the water and away from him.

The crystal-clear water is perfectly warm, with little current, and the king still stands on the rocky bank, staring at me.

“Are you going to bathe as well or just continue to stare at me like a lech?”

Eyes on mine, he strips out of his leathers and the linen clothes beneath, and strides to the water’s edge.

For a moment, my gaze drifts low. Lower. Lower than it should. When I get a hold of myself once again and meet his gaze, he’s smirking at me.

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