Page 48 of Forged in Cursed Flames (Crown and Crest 2)

“I’m sorry,” I murmur as I turn to leave.

Before I reach the door, Henrik gently catches my wrist. He steps up behind me, setting his hands on my arms. “Don’t go.”

I clench my eyes shut for a moment, putting my thoughts in order. “Friendsshouldn’t play such games. I started it—I’ll take responsibility. Please forgive me for making things more complicated than they need to be.”

“Clover, if nothing else, let us at least be honest with each other,” he says, no longer teasing. “Did you invite me down here on a whim…or was it something more?”

I break a little, feeling like my heart has suddenly been exposed. It’s vulnerable now.

“More,” I admit at a whisper, glad he can’t see my face while he’s behind me.

“I thought we decided to leave our feelings in that dark night in Heistone?” he says quietly. “If this isn’t a game…then what is it?”

His hands fall away from my shoulders when I turn to face him.

“Lawrence got in my head,” I admit.

Henrik grimaces as if he tasted something wretched. “Why bring him into this?”

“He told me if I want you…I only have until you rescue Camellia,” I admit. “I lost my mind a little bit.”

Henrik crosses his arms, looking like he’s trying to keep himself from reaching for me. Soberly, as if he’s an inquisitor questioning a criminal about a crime, he asks, “Doyou want me, Clover?”

“Do you wantme?” I counter ever so eloquently.

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he says, evading the question. “We are imprisoned in our current lives, bound for different people.”

My head falls forward, and I let out a weary sigh.

Henrik’s hands move to my shoulders, and he slowly kneads my tight muscles. “But, as Lawrence said, we’re not officially betrothed to anyoneyet.”

I freeze, letting myself contemplate his words. Slowly, I lift my head.

With his gaze intent on mine, he continues, “So if I kiss you now, it’s no one’s business but our own.”

“Henrik...” I’m so torn between making a smart choice and living in the moment, my stomach hurts. “I should go.”

“You should.” After several long, silent seconds, he says softly, “But what if you stay instead?”

The question seems to echo in the space. It tells me that I’m not the only one struggling—I’m not the only one fighting emotions that feel too big and hopeless.

Why didn’t I pay attention to Henrik before? We had all that time. Why didn’t I flirt with him when I passed him in the castle halls, or offer him smiles like the other girls? Would he have noticed me sooner if I had?

Would things be different if we’d gotten to know each other years ago, before we’d charted our lives?

I’ll never know.

Without making a conscious decision, I find myself angling my face up. As I move, Henrik bends down, his fingers tightening on my shoulders.

I’m entranced, caught in the moment. It doesn’t feel real, and yet, here we are. My eyes flutter closed, and my skin tingles with anticipation. We’re no longer playing—this isn’t about the callous joke I made in the halls.

Whatever this is, it’s more.

But just when I expect our mouths to finally meet, something soft falls against my lips. Soft and…furry?

Startled, my eyes fly open, and I step back. There, between us, is a…

Well, it’s asomething. Long like a snake, it’s furred and spotted, and if I didn’t know better, I might think…

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