Page 80 of The Prince from a Cruel Summer
Another loophole in theFae can’t lierule. I want to belong to Aidan, and he wants to belong to me, and for now, that’s enough.
And I will remember every minute of this terribly beautiful night until the reaper comes for me.
Chapter 24
Sea Witch
SONGBIRD
Waking up in Aidan’s arms could spoil me for all time. His sizzling warmth and the scent we made together lulled me into a heartbreakingly sweet slumber, and I grimace as I wake up, unwilling to let go of the glow hovering in my chest. We didn’t even bother to enter the cabin, so I’m still sprawled over the makeshift bed, tangled up in his embrace.
The precocious dawn that accompanies the shortest night of the year paints bloody warning signs on the horizon. Stormy clouds gather over the sea, creeping lazily toward the shore. They look like angry Red priestesses stretching their necks to judge us for our sins.
I trace Aidan’s calm, serene features one last time, desperately jealous of the princess he’s meant to marry. As sad and bitter as it sounds, I need to remind myself that it can’t be me before I lose sight of what this night really was.
An indulgence.
A bewitching exception.
I try to slip out unnoticed, but he squeezes me to him. I twist around in his arms, his amber eyes burning under the fiery dawn, clear and full of love.
“Good morning, Songbird.”
The sweet drawl of the nickname physically hurts. I might never hear it again after today. It’s a complex feeling to love something so fiercely and yet be so certain of its demise. But Aidan and I were a dream only meant to last one night.
I clear my throat, muttering a muted, “Morning.”
He brushes my hair away from my face, tracing the hollow of my neck down the valley between my breasts. His fire chases away the chill of the night, warm and hypnotic. I’ve got half a mind to bury my head in his chest and pretend we’re just another couple, sharing a lazy, uncomplicated morning.
He kisses the angle of my jaw. “I wish every morning could be like this.”
My stomach squeezes in response, and a breathless sigh whistles out of my lungs.
The statement stings like the tip of a double-edged sword, a unique brand of torture. It won't do us any good to spend the next few hours luxuriating in this impossible bubble, only to watch it burst the moment we step outside, listing all the promises we won’t be able to keep, and the things we will never do together.
Yet, Aidan seems intent on doing just that.
“Everyone will be gone on break soon,” he says with a naughty grin. “You should stay and spend one more night with me. Tomorrow morning, we could even walk down to the ocean and swim…naked.” He bites my earlobe playfully, but the hollowness in the pit of my belly throbs at the suggestion.
“I can’t stay. My father would worry.”
His furrowed brows call me out for my cowardice. “You could write to him that you’ll arrive tomorrow, instead. It’s not like he knows the ins and outs of this place?—”
The comment rubs me the wrong way, highlighting the divide between our circumstances. “And what would one more night accomplish, exactly?” I shift to a sitting position and wrap an arm around my bare breasts. “It doesn’t change the fact that I have to go home.”
It doesn’t change the fact that you’re not for me,I almost add, but the angry words get caught in my throat. It’s not Aidan’s fault that he’s the infamous Crown Prince of the Summerlands, and that I’m just a moth. That I’m engaged to a man I despise. And even if I weren’t, Aidan would never be free to court me openly. But ithurts.
“In two months, then?” he asks.
“Aidan…”
“Songbird.”
I crawl to my knees, keeping my eyes firmly planted in my lap and playing with a loose thread of the tartan blanket. “Aidan. We said one night.”
“As I recall, we said a lot of things. For example, youbeggedme never to stop licking your sweet, hot?—”
I seal his mouth with my hand. “Shush!”
