When she looks up at him with her warm brown eyes, his palms tingle again.
“Stop.” He bolts away from her.
She looks stricken, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Just...give me a moment. Please.”
As she watches, he draws more of his growing heat into his palms and lobs a stream of fireballs high above them, one after another. The relief is immediate.
When he drops his hands again, he meets Arisanna’s gaze across the snowy world between them. A visible shiver sweeps over her. Is she cold?
Hesitantly, he returns to her. “Are you warm enough?”
“Would it be forward of me to say I could use some of your heat right now?” she asks through chattering teeth.
Whistling wind. Is she asking him to warm her himself?
His fire has cooled a little, but it still burns hot.
Especially when she says things like that.
Another shiver grips her. She could wish for warmer clothing, but she hasn’t.
Does she want him to wrap his arms around her?
She looks at the toes of her boots, where they sit half covered in white powder. “Just pretend I didn’t say that. It was definitely forward of me to assume—”
“It’s not forward,” he whispers. “You’re my...my wife, as you call it.” The word feels strange on his tongue.
“Your binding partner,” she breathes in Elvish.
When he holds out his hand, she flies toward him, and he pulls her to his chest. His heat still simmers beneath the surface, but it’s not as out-of-control as it was.
“Better?” he asks. “Not too hot?”
She just burrows deeper into his arms. Tentatively, he lets more heat seep from his flesh, and the most enchanting sigh escapes her lips as she relaxes against him.
She’s softness and perfection in all the right ways, and his fire magic fights for control.
“Mmm. You’re so hot,” she murmurs against his chest.
Whistling wind. That’s not helping.
How in the Wildthorne Woods did he end up in this predicament? Wrapped up with his human princess as his fire magic burns hot within him?
And he doesn’t want to let her go.
Almost as if...no. That’s ridiculous.
He’s not falling in love with her.
He just met her. Didn’t he? Why does it seem like it’s been so much longer?
He wasn’t supposed to feel this way. She was supposed to be loud and annoying and in his way. He always imagined this princess from Nunia as petulant and spoiled, and perhaps she is a little spoiled. Used to being taken care of.
But the overwhelming desire to be the one caring for her fills him. It’s startling and terrifying.
And his heart races.
