“You deserve better than what life has given you, Serafina.”
His hand twitches next to mine, moving in a way that makes our skin touch, but only barely. But then, his thumb glides over my palm, and it’s the softest caress I think I’ve ever felt.
Pressure pools in my core. The heat builds and builds. I feel iteverywhere, and my nerves become hyper aware of only him.
I turn, needing to see his face as he says these words that make me feel these things I can’t possibly begin to understand.
“Thank you for sharing some of your story with me,” he says. He’s so close that if I were to inch myself just a little farther across the mattress, our noses would be touching.
“Thank you for staying when I asked you to.” Feeling brave, I close my hand around his thumb.
His eyes trace a path along my face, but then his lids droop, and for the first time, I wonder how late it is.
I release a yawn, growing far more tired than I realized I was.
His eyes close. His breathing steadies. And I find it nearly impossible to look away, to take in a sight that isn’t him.
He’s asleep.
It happened so fast and so suddenly that I wonder how long he’d been silently trying to hold this sleep at bay. How close he’d been todrifting off during our conversation. But he stayed awake anyway. He let me talk, he listened, hecared.
And I don’t know what to make of that.
“For weeks you’ve been taking care of me, but who takes care of you?” I whisper before sleep claims me, too.
“You do, little warrior. More than you know.”
“Hmmm,” I hum, focusing on him once again, urging my eyes to stay open, but I’m sure I didn’t see his lips move, which means my dreams must have already claimed me, but why am I hearing this man in my dreams?
This prince who represents everything I loathe, everything I hate?
But even so, I do not hatehim.
Chapter 16
Serafina
“Fire Wielder.”
I sit up with a start. My heart pounding at the words that pulled me from sleep.
That voice.I’ve heard it before. I know I have. But from where?
Looking around the room, I realize I’m alone, completely and utterly alone.
I touch the place Jax had been beside me, but he’s gone, and in his place is a small, leather-bound journal.His great-, great-, great-, great-grandfather’s journal.
The Pyro King.
When did he leave? And when didhe leavethis?
Shaking my head, I place my hand over my heart, trying to steady it. But then memories of Jax and his scars, Jax and hiseyes, flood my vision, and my heart pounds with an even greater intensity.
Pull yourself together,Serafina.He is theprince.He is not your friend. He is not your concern.And whoever gave him those scars…I am not the one to punish them, to seek vengeance on his behalf, or to burn them and everything they love to the ground.
My hands catch fire.
Even though I may want to.
