I admitted there was a savory cake Cara and my grandfather thought I loved, but actually couldn’t stomach.
“Why eat it?” He braided the ends of my damp hair.
“They spend time making something they think I love, and I don’t have the heart to tell them otherwise.”
Jonas chuckled and kissed the top of my head again. “You are all soft inside.”
“Not a monster?”
Jonas stilled for a breath, then leaned forward, drawing his cheek alongside mine. “Be kind, be gentle, and be monstrous. I will want you every way.”
Bleeding gods.
His presence was calming, a little too much for somewhere through our chatter, my eyes closed. The heat from the water, the stroke of his hands, lulled me off to nearly falling asleep. I startled when his knuckles touched my cheek.
“Skadi,” Jonas whispered. “Your skin is going to wrinkle away, and the water is getting cold.”
I jolted awake, mumbling slurred apologies. Somewhere in my haze, I took note that the prince was now in dry trousers. His top remained bare, and I was glad for it. His warmth cocooned me when I stepped out of the tub and leaned against his skin while he wrapped me up in the robe again.
Jonas lifted me, the way he’d done after the tavern.
I snickered. “I can walk.”
“You’re tired.”
I was. Seemed days with laughter and pleasure were as lively as running without pause.
“The moon isn’t full, but . . .” Jonas paused in his chamber. “Will you stay with me tonight?”
“I”—a yawn slipped out— “could muster energy for you.”
“Good to know, but I plan to let you sleep. I simply don’t want you anywhere else but beside me. Afraid I’m growing needy, Wife.”
It was new and a little wonderful to be needed.
I settled under the heavy furs and quilts of his wide bed (he placed me on the side away from the door) and rolled onto my shoulder, facing him.
A single lantern flickered dimly, casting a warm glow over his face. I rested a palm against the stubble on his chin, and draped my leg over his hip.
Jonas let an arm fall over my waist, drawing me close. It wasn’t long before the slow, steady hum of his heartbeat lulled me into safe, peaceful sleep.
Chapter 27
The Mist Thief
The first glimmersof a pale dawn broke through the narrow window in Jonas’s chamber, a reminder he’d given up his cherished view for a stranger.
Most mornings were cool in Klockglas. Air from the sea and drafty corridors in the palace ensured the chill dug into the skin until fires were lit and mists faded into daylight.
My body felt like it was already roasting beside an inglenook. Damp clung to my skin and everything had gone muggy beneath the quilts. I blinked sleep from my eyes and my heart fluttered.
Jonas’s bed. I was in Jonas’s bed. Dressed in my robe with nothing else beneath it.
My stomach swooped in delightful waves when I rolled over, but dropped at the sight of him.
Still sleeping, Jonas’s skin was flushed, soaked in sweat, and his body kept twitching. Soft words spilled over his lips, desperate sounds, like he might be pleading with someone.
“Jonas.” I touched his shoulder and nearly recoiled from the heat. He was burning with fever. How? He’d gone to sleep with smiles and good health.
