Page 21 of A Witch and Her Dragon
“Are you okay?” she asks, head tipping to one side. The movement sends her wet hair sliding, revealing her smooth throat. “You’re... steaming.”
Shit, she’s right. I got so overheated thinking about the things I absolutelycannotdo with her that the rain is now evaporating as soon as it hits my skin, turning to steam on contact. I’m lucky it doesn’t sizzle like eggs on cast iron.
I clear my throat and take another step back. “I’m fine. I just run warm. Now, Your Highness, if you’d please.” I use my free hand to gesture back toward the castle.
“For thelasttime, I told you to call me Alina,” she says. But her voice isn’t laced with anger this time, and it looks like shealmostgives me a smile before finally heading for the double doors back into the castle.
This time I give her an extra few feet of space as I follow her into the candlelit corridor, where we both drip water onto the stone floor. And I think this will be good for both of us. Perhaps it’s even necessary.
Because if I don’t get control of myself soon, I don’t know what the fuck’s going to happen. And I absolutelycannotlet anything happen. Because my family is depending on me to not mess this up. And I’m not going to fail them.
Even for my fated mate.
Chapter 11
Alina
TRUE TO HIS WORD, RAELAN has backed off.
Kind of.
A little bit.
But it’s something, at least. And I think he likes it better this way as well. He’s still uptight, like all the guards I’ve ever known, but he doesn’t look quite so rigid anymore—or maybe I’m just imagining it becauseIdon’t feel quite so rigid anymore. I didn’t realize how crazy it was making me, being followed around so closely, feeling like my every move was being watched. And they were. They still are. But at least now I can almost pretend like he’s not watching me. And for that, I’m incredibly grateful to Raelan.
So long as neither of us tells Grandfather, this arrangement should work out just fine.
“I don’tgetthis,” Lyra says, sitting back from the big table in the library with a sigh. Half of her bright red hair ispulled up into a curly bun on top of her head and is speared through with a hair stick.
Poppy looks up from her textbook on magical ethics and adjusts her round glasses. “Get what?”
“This rune translation. I’ve never needed to read a rune in my life. This is a waste of my talents.” Lyra groans.
“It’s not so difficult.” Poppy shrugs one shoulder.
Lyra arches a brow at her. “Maybe not for you. Nothing’s difficult for you.”
“Well, I don’t know aboutthat,” Poppy says, light brown cheeks starting to go red. “Would you like some help?”
“Yes.Please.”
I smile and turn the page in my textbook. This week in my potions class, we’re learning a basic calming elixir, which I’m already thinking Lyra could use.
Just last week, she accidentally set fire to her bed curtains, and I was so startled that I didn’t even get a chance to react with my frost magic before Maeve put out the fire with a pitcher of water, soaking Lyra in the process.
Only later did Raelan ask me why I smelled slightly of smoke—which was odd in and of itself, considering I thought I’d washed the smell from my hair.
I dip my quill into my inkwell and begin taking notes, trying to memorize all the ingredients needed for the calming elixir: lavender, chamomile, lemon balm, passionflower, ro—
“Maeve! Over here!”
I look up at Lyra’s exclamation.
Maeve is crossing the library toward us, and the eyes of most of the guys in the library follow her, tracking herlong-legged strides. But she doesn’t even seem to notice. She walks right to our table, leans back against it, and arches an eyebrow at me while pushing her straight violet-black hair over her shoulder.
“Why’s your knight standing in the hallway? Doesn’t he usually want an eye on you at all times?”
“She convinced him to give her some space,” Poppy says without looking up from Lyra’s runes homework. “Remember?”
