I dragged my gaze back to his face. The earnestness in his expression took my breath away. “It’s a silly thing to say and wrong of me to ask it of you.”
He cupped my cheek. “Just say it.”
“I’d rather…” My voice broke off. I cleared my throat and tried again. “I’d rather you came back to me than spend years away from here, searching for some kind of cure. But like I said, it isn’t fair for me to ask that of you. You’d be as stuck in the mountains as I am.”
“I’d gladly give up the sun if it meant I could have you,” he said without a moment of hesitation.
I shuddered out a breath. His thumb caressed my jaw, heat trailing in its wake. I shook my head, his words beyond my comprehension. “How can you say that?”
“Because the sun has never made me feel the way that you do, Astrid Balstad,” he murmured. “Now come here. I want to hold you before we have to go bribe a dragon to give us all her gold coins.”
I laughed, lowered my head to his chest, and breathed in the scent of him. His fingers trailed up and down my arms, his shadows curling around my legs. Every single inch of me he touched, holding me with more care and attention than I’d ever dreamt he could give. I had been so wrong about him, from the moment we’d met. He gave off the impression of someone who thought he was better than everyone else. Someone who would ground others into dust.
But all that attitude and swagger hid the truth—he was as soft and gooey inside as melted chocolate.
I smiled against his skin. He was as delicious as chocolate, too.
“What are you grinning at down there?” he asked, his voice rumbling against me.
“Just thinking about chocolate,” I said, smile widening even further.
“Wow. I feel like I should be insulted, but I wouldn’t mind some chocolate, too. Please tell me you have some stashed somewhere in this house.”
“If I did, the plants would have already gotten to it,” I replied.
“Excellent point.” His stomach emitted an impressively loud growl. “See? Chocolate is sorely needed.”
I sat up and instantly regretted the space I’d made between us. “I suppose that’s our cue to find some food and pack our bags. The sooner, the better. I don’t want to leave everyone in the dark longer than necessary.”
To punctuate my statement, my own stomach rumbled with displeasure. I hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Or whatever day it was. I no longer knew.
“As much as I’d prefer you to climb back on top of me, I can’t very well let you starve, now can I?” With a groan, he pushed up from the bed. When he met my eyes, a spark went through my core. “We have some unfinished business, and don’t you forget it.”
“Does this unfinished business involve me climbing on top of you?”
“Yes, exactly. Ideally, over and over again. So many times that you forget your own name.”
My entire body flushed. “I like the sound of that.”
24
ASTRID
“Morning, Yulla. How much beet sugar do you have?” I stood on the front stoop of my friend’s cottage. All the windows were dark. She rubbed at her red-rimmed eyes, seemingly oblivious to the fact she was leaning against her doorframe in nothing but a slip. Behind her, toddlers screamed and chased each other through the house.
“I have no idea, Astrid. Why are you asking me about beet sugar?” she asked tiredly.
“I need to make a very large batch of moss cakes,” I told her.
She squinted at me. “How? All the sunstones are dead.”
“I’ll explain later.” I leaned sideways and peered into her house. “So, about that sugar. You got any? I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
“Sure, sure.” She motioned me inside. “But don’t you worry about replacing it. Not like we’ll ever get to use it again, right? Without the sunstones, we’ll never bake again.”
“Hmm. We’ll see about that.” I ignored the question in her eyes and darted through the rush of charging children. The kitchen was a mess. Pots and pans were scattered on thefloor, and breadcrumbs dotted the dining table. Empty tankards were piled beside a carton of eggs that looked like they’d been smashed against the wall. Yolk oozed down the stone.
“Um, Yulla,” I asked carefully. “What happened here?”
