I kissed his chest, right over his heart, and let myself surrender to sleep wrapped in his arms. Safe. Wanted. Cherished in a way I’d never expected when I’d walked into this castle not long ago.
Everything was changing between us. The careful distance we’d maintained was gone, burned away in the heat of desire and honesty. Tomorrow we’d have to figure out what this meant, where we went from here.
But tonight, I let myself simply be held by a man who looked at me like I was his world.
His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back as my breathing evened out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
KIERAN
Iwoke to humming.
For a moment, I lay in bed, my eyes closed, savoring the melody that drifted down from the tower. Cyrene had the sweetest voice. It wove through the morning air like a spell. My bed was empty beside me, the sheets cool where she’d slept, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
Last night had changed everything. The way she’d looked at me, touched me, and said my name. As if I were important to her, special. Not someone to fear. To her, I was Kieran, not the vampire king.
I stretched, feeling lighter than I had in years. The bond between us buzzed contentedly, letting me sense her somewhere above, working in her tower room. Happy. Safe.
Mine.
The thought sent a rush of possessive warmth through me. Not mine as in owned but mine to protect, to cherish, to make smile every day for the rest of our lives if she’d let me.
After bathing, I dressed quickly, skipping my usual formal clothing for a simple light blue shirt and darker blue pants. No crown, no royal insignia. Today I didn’t want to be a king. I just wanted to be a man who pleased his wife. Who made her breakfast.
The kitchen staff froze again when I walked in, their eyes widening comically. One of the assistants actually dropped the empty pan she was carrying, and it clattered on the floor.
“Your Majesty.” She snatched up the pan. “Is something wrong?”
I smiled, which only seemed to alarm her further. “Not one thing. I’d like to cook breakfast for the queen.”
Silence fell so completely I could hear the bubbling of pots on the stove. Five pairs of eyes stared at me like I’d announced a plan to dance naked through the castle.
“You truly want to cook?” the head cook asked carefully, as if she needed to confirm I hadn’t suffered a head injury.
“Is that so shocking?” I asked, rolling up my sleeves.
A young kitchen boy snorted before clapping a hand over his mouth. The head cook shot him a glare before turning back to me.
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, in the six years you’ve been king, these past few days are the only times you’ve entered the kitchens. And now, multiple days in a row, you want to cook?”
I shrugged. “What’s wrong with wishing to please my wife?”
“Oh, nothing.” Color filled her face. “I wish all men felt the same.”
The other women nodded.
“Would you be willing to help me?” I said, hoping the offer would put them at ease. “I want to get this right.”
The tension broke as several staff members smothered laughs. The head cook’s weathered face softened into something almost maternal.
“What did you have in mind for Her Majesty?” she asked.
“Something she’d like.” I had only a few ideas of what that might be. She’d eaten whatever was served without comment. Had she been silently enduring food she disliked? The thought bothered me.
Her eyes twinkled. “The queen is particularly fond of berry tartlets. She visits the kitchens often, Your Majesty.” She sounded quite proud of that.
“What else does she like for breakfast?”
