Page 136 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
Ah, hells.
Aidan pulls me into his embrace, his arms circling me, red-hot embers radiating from his body. "Here, I’ll warm her up," he murmurs, his voice rough.
I first dismiss his obvious jealousy as a fluke, a byproduct of the spell that ensnared the men who heard my performance.
But Seth isn’t having it. He tugs on my arm, a firm grip that pulls me in the opposite direction. "No need. I’ve got her."
The two of them stand at odds, glaring at each other. They each look ready to tear the other apart over who gets to escort me to the deck.
"Get off her, she’s mine," Seth orders.
Aidan, not one to back down, moves to shove his opponent aside. But in an instant, Seth dissipates into a cloud, only to reappear behind Aidan with a snarl. The side effects of my song boil over, pushing their rivalry to the brink of violence.
Before the situation can escalate any further, I raise my hands. "Guys, stop!"
They both freeze, eyes locking on me, the aggression in their stances evident even in their sudden stillness. They're waiting for my command, hanging on my every word.
A twinge of regret twists my gut. I wish I could dispel the song’s effects now that Luther has been dealt with, but only a good night’s sleep will return them to normal. And we don’t have the luxury of rest right now.
Aidan presses my back to his chest, his warmth seeping through the fabric of my cloak. His breath skims my earlobe, hot and heavy. “Let me kill the rebel for what he did to you.”
“We’re not killing Luther,” Seth argues. A storm cloud, black as night, churns above his head, crackling with deadly energy.
I brace myself on his arm, dizzy from his heat. "No one is killing anyone, not while you two are still under my spell," I command, my voice trembling as I fight against the call of the sea.
Seth balls his fists at his sides, and the swirling storm above us spreads to the entire cargo hold. "I’d die for you, Betty Snow," he mutters, his words rough and possessive. "But your friend here needs to be taught a lesson."
Full-blown flames lick the surface of Aidan’s skin, the fiery orange glow cutting through the dim, damp room. But beneath the raw power, I catch a glimpse of something more—something that wasn’t there before. The love, the hurt, the unspeakable heartbreak that has haunted me for years now mirrors in his gaze. The decades that dug an insurmountable chasm between us, too deep to heal in a single moment.
“Shut up, Seth,” he barks.
A heavy set of footsteps resonates above our heads, and a confident, feminine voice echoes through the cargo hold. “Luther? What’s happening?”
“Stand down, both of you,” I hiss under my breath.
The cloud rains down to the ground in a heavy mist, Seth’s thunder tapering off in a flare of static electricity that covers me in goosebumps.
“Or I’ll tie you back up,” I add.
“Fuck. You look so fierce when you’re angry,” Aidan declares, and my entire body quakes as he spins me around in his embrace.
A hot, molten heat explodes from the pit of my belly and spreads to the tips of my toes as he swallows my next threat with a kiss.
It’s not like it was when he met me after his botched wedding. It’s been a century since I’ve been kissed with such passion. Aidan breathes in my whimpers, his strong grip crushing me to him.
He caresses the side of my face with his thumb, looking ready to eat me alive. “By the Flame, Songbird,” he growls against my swollen lips. “I’m going to burn my name into your flesh, peel those tatters from your skin, and make you mine again if it kills me.”
My heart pounds in my chest.
He remembers.
Seth observes the hatch with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his need to confront Aidan gradually fading. “Imogen was Luther’s childhood friend back at the Storm Court. I know her well enough. I might be able to convince her to stand down. She’s a run-of-the-mill Storm Fae, so unless she’s covered in Mist jewels, she shouldn’t pose a threat.”
Aidan motions him forward. “You go first then, but you have one minute. If you haven’t called for us after that, I’ll cook her through.”
“Now, don’t go burning the ship, or we’ll sink,” I whisper.
“Don’t tell me you never learned how to swim,” he teases with an edge of danger.
