I startle; I hadn’t heard him sneak up on me. “Of course.”
“You have a bit of blood on your cheek?”
“I do?” I slap a hand to my face and feel a long, thin line.
I can’t help it; I lift my eyes and skewer the Prince with a hard glare.
Dakota’s eyebrows raise, and I know I’ve just given myself away a bit. Shit.
“Get moving, stop looking at me like that. I’m fine,” I say impulsively to cover my error.
Quincy steps away as if he’s burned, and, for that, I’m sorry, but the suspicion on the Prince pack eases as their expressions transform into that smug amusement that looks so damn good on them. Too bad I know it’s a front.
I turn and march down the path; my heart is still beating too fast. That was close, too close. I was so lucky he was just ahead of me and my reflexes are that good. I managed to swing us both out of the way, hitting the ground hard, the boulder just bouncing past us.
So close.
Vale catches up and walks beside me.
“Are you all right?”
Does he even care?
“I am fine,” I say in a clipped voice.
“I was scared.” His voice is oddly subdued. “That was too close.”
I look at him sharply; does he regret what almost happened?
“I am fine,” I say in a slightly softer tone. “I’ve got amazing reflexes.”
“It has been noticed.”
Why does that sound like he’s noticing a lot about me, but not just my reflexes?
Vale abruptly grabs my wrist and pulls me off the path behind a tree. He pulls me close, so close I can practically feel his body, like there’s a force field of warmth and strength that exists around him. I feel small in his arms; the power he keeps contained is clear to witness.
His scent of burning paper wafts around us, stronger than ever, and I almost close my eyes as it goes into my lungs, bringing up a warm comfort that I never knew I needed.
“Vale, what are we doing?” I want my words to be strong, but they come out weak, needy, breathless.
His arms wrap around me, pulling me up against his chest. It’s like coming home, it’s a lifetime of longing, it’s an entire future of possibilities laid out before me. All I can do is swirl in the storm of the realisation that nothing, nothing will ever come close to feeling as good as I feel in their arms.
My chest tightens and aches as the memories crash back in, the feeling of loss. I must tense because he draws back, staring at me intently.
“I’m just happy you are alive and okay.”
“It takes a lot to kill me.”
“I don’t doubt it,” he whispers, and I feel the words in his chest. His breathing hits my hair, and for one incredibly dumb, fucked-up moment, I just want to stay in his arms forever.
Clarity returns with a tiny throb in my cheek, reminding me of my near-death experience. I shove out of his arms and turn away from him.
“I’m fine,” I say sharply. “We better get back; I don’t want to lose anyone out here.”
The rest of the day passes uneventfully.
But I can still feel his arms around me, and that feeling hasn’t gone away, and I wonder suddenly if it ever will.
