My breath caught. How long had he been awake? I tilted my face up to his and then drew back. His face was close enough that if either of us moved a minuscule amount, our lips would touch.
“Good morning,” he said, his mouth slightly curved.
“Hi.”
I realized my leg was still thrown over his body and quickly moved it. I started to pull away from him, but his hand tightened around me almost imperceptibly, so briefly I wondered if I imagined it, before he loosened his grip and let me go.
I looked anywhere but at him. “Did I set the curtains on fire?” There were char marks around the edges that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday.
He looked over with what might have been amusement. “Oh, that. Yes. I was able to put it out before it progressed further. Though for a moment, you seemed likely to redecorate the entire room in charcoal.”
Heat flooded my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I?—”
He covered my hand with his. “Princess, you were terrified. It’s not surprising you’d react like that. And I’m glad your first instinct was to defend yourself. Even if it was from me.”
We’d see if he was glad when that instinct caused him to suffer from second-degree burns.
“Do you remember any of the nightmare?” he asked gently.
Sitting up, I gathered my hair over one shoulder. I had forgotten to braid it last night and it fell loosely to my waist. Twisting itaround, I answered, “It’s very faint now. There was a battlefield and bodies everywhere. Most were dead, but the screams and cries from those who weren’t—” I cut myself off as I looked at him. His brow was furrowed. “You were there,” I added.
“I was?” His eyebrow shot up.
I nodded, tracing patterns on the quilt. “We were arguing about something—something I wanted to do but you didn’t want me to do it. Everyone was terrified. It felt like we were losing,” I finished softly. My hand bunched and played with the fabric, and Griff covered it with his large one. “But it was just a dream, right?” I asked him.
He gave me an unreadable look. “Perhaps,” was all he said, but something flickered across his face—concern, or maybe fear. The nightmare had shaken him too. But why?
He swung himself out of bed and I felt my mouth go dry again at the sight of his bare chest. In the light of day, it was confirmed—there was no fat on his stomach. Just carved muscle and a deep vee of his hip bones that disappeared into his waistband. I had to force myself to look away.
“What are your plans for the holiday?” he asked.
I looked at him in surprise before shrugging. “Try to stay out of Zachariah’s way?”
He continued looking at me with that unreadable expression, the mask firmly in place. “Would you like to come with me?” It was phrased as a question, but I wasn’t sure if it actually was or if it was a demand.
“Where? To your house?”
He nodded. “I promised I’d show you my village. And I don’t like the idea of you here alone. Come with me.”
Something warm unfurled through my chest. The way he said it sounded genuine. Not driven by duty or obligation.
“I’d like that,” I said softly, surprised at just how much I did.
“Good. Get dressed while I try to scrounge up a shirt.” He looked down at his feet. “And shoes.”
The prospect of escaping Valdris and seeing his home, thethought of which had captured me ever since he had described it, sent a thrill funneling through me. A chance to be away from prying eyes and the weight of being the princess.
He moved to the door but glanced back over his shoulder. “Don’t leave the room until I’m back. And don’t open the door for anyone but me.”
I looked at him, my brow furrowed. “Griff, what is it? You’re acting like I’m in danger here.”
He paused halfway through the door. “Just trust me on this, Princess. Please.”
As soon as the door closed behind him, I flopped back onto the bed, arm over my eyes. The nightmare still felt more real than any dream I’d ever had before. And Griff’s reaction to it, both last night and just now, had been strange. Like there was more to it than just my imagination running wild.
And then there was the way we’d woken up, entwined together. Like we fit together perfectly. The way he had looked at me. Like I was something he couldn’t have.
My heart was beating too fast again, but I didn’t know what to blame it on this time. I allowed myself a few moments to breathe, trying to calm the terror still left over from the nightmare and whatever those emotions were that Griff always raised.
