Page 35 of To Sway a Prince
There was something undeniably intimate about this. Each time my thoughts drifted in that direction, I blushed but turned my head to hide that. If he noticed, he never mentioned it.
Still the energy thrummed stronger between us. Sometimes I just wanted to stretch out beside him, feel his arms twine around me, and rest my head on his shoulder.
I cursed myself for that desire. I cursed him for being so impossibly close.
Now wasn't the time or place.
Even if it would be easy.
So very, very easy.
Heat radiated through his parted tunic and into my hands and side. Part of me hated how much I longed to be close to him and how quickly I fell for him. As I spread my aura out over his chest, I thought I glimpsed the central thread. "It looks like it really is woven straight into your heart." If I could get a solid hold of it, it would undo all the rest. Magical knots were magnificent like that.
"Not surprising," he said, his arm draped over his forehead. He studied me from beneath his arm. "If that's the case, thenthat means you won't be able to reach it unless I fully engage my magic. But that will trigger the omenfang's arrival for certain. And…" His brow pinched.
I focused in on another of the knots. My magic shuddered as this one resisted. "And what? Don't tell me you're giving up?"
He shook his head. "Do you always have nightmares?"
The abrupt change of topic left me blinking. "Um…yes. I usually do."
"I'll see what I can do about it. True rest is essential for healing, and that is difficult to do when you have nightmares." A contemplative hum rumbled from his lips. "I should have asked sooner."
"Why?" That response confused me. "My nightmares aren't your trouble."
I focused my magic on the next knot, tracing the patterns with the blade. This one seemed more complex, with tighter coils and sharper edges. Six threads instead of four. As I worked to loosen it, I felt resistance—stronger than before.
"They're getting trickier," I murmured, pressing deeper with my magic.
The knot suddenly constricted, then snapped back at me like severed violin strings. The cursed threads lashed out, slicing across my palm and wrist deeper than any previous attempt. I yelped in pain, jerking my hand back. My blade fell to the floor, spinning until it struck the wall.
"Astraia!" He caught my wrist before I could pull away. His fingers were cool against my burning skin as he examined the wound. The cut was deep enough that beads of blood had begun to form.
"It's nothing," I insisted, though my voice betrayed me with a slight tremor.
Ramiel's brow furrowed as he traced his thumb gently across my wrist, his healing magic soothing the sting. His eyes met mine, concern evident in their purple depths.
"These threads are becoming more aggressive," he said softly. "They're fighting back harder each time. Did it try to enter your wrist?"
"I—I think it just coiled," I said, but I wasn't actually sure.
He continued studying it. "I don't like how it lashes at you." His fingers wrapped over mine. "Has it been hurting more, gnat? This is the first time it's drawn blood, but it seems to be getting harder."
I started to shake my head, but he chided me. "You don't have to pretend."
"Severing curses always stings a little," I said quietly. But it wasn't the sting that had absorbed my attention. His thumb pressed against my palm.
The cut sealed shut. He still held my hand, his expression contemplative. "I don't like seeing you hurt."
Witty words escaped me, my heart racing faster. So I just shook my head again. "I don't like seeing you hurt either."
That gentle smile of his spread. I loved how it reached his eyes and how his eyes crinkled. "I appreciate that you have been doing this for me, and I know that it takes great skill and focus," he said. "Let me prepare you a special dinner. Something restorative."
"Something we can scarf down as I restore my magic and sever the cursed threads and you pore over your texts and continue with your experiments?"
That smile pulled higher. His low laugh made my stomach somersault and tighten. "No…I mean a quiet meal at a proper table with good food and good conversation."
"You can spare that much time?" Though I said it in a teasing tone, I was also serious. My progress in removing the cursed knots from around his heart was not going as swiftly as I hoped.
