Instead, I pretended to be asleep, unable to face myself right now, let alone him.
If he could tell I faked it, he didn’t say anything.
I couldn’t stop the tingles as he sighed against me, breath ghosting across the nape of my neck. I fetused my legs to my chest to hide the shivers.
He smelled like vanilla, honey, and firewood, and I wanted to turn in his arms and have him hold me to his chest until this entire night made sense.
But I couldn’t look into his eyes. He’d see. He’d know.
He nuzzled his nose against my shoulder, inhaling deeply. Could he smell the stench of failure on my skin?
I knew he could hear my heart racing, but he mercifully let me pretend. He just sighed and coiled his arms tighter around me as if cementing his promise that he would always be there.
I worried I’d toss and fret all night, tormented by images of the crown mocking me. But with Ryker’s even breaths caressing my skin, I fell into the most restful night I’d had since waking up in Solkar’s Reach.
No dreams, no turning and kicking, simply resting with his body cocooning me in warmth, which lingered until the morning, when the buzz of the fortress tore me back to reality.
My eyelids fluttered open, greeting the same stone wall. I hadn’t moved all night. Ryker hadn’t either, his arm still resting on my waist protectively, nose right in the nape of my neck.
Still caught in the haziness of waking, I stretched back into him, languorous and unhurried. Now this was the proper way to wake up. Day after day.
Just as I made to turn to him, I froze, the previous day crashing into me. The troll, the wings, the lake, the crown.
They all desiccated the happiness out of me, leaving me the same shell as last night.
Ryker’s hand tightened around me only a breath later, as if my distress yanked him awake. I tried to quiet my stammering heart, but it only made it race harder.
“Good morning,” he muttered lazily, voice low and hoarse and delicious.
“Morning,” I whispered, feeling more and more like a fraud with each beat of silence that passed.
“Are you alright?” he asked, fingers playing with the ends of my hair.
“I–” I licked my lips, loosing a centering breath. I still didn’t turn to him. “Yesterday was tough.”
Not a lie, but so far away from the truth, I wondered if he could tell.
His hand paused in my hair. Just for a second, but enough to make me wonder.
Then he drew me closer to him, until I could feel the ridges of his chest against my back. Despite feeling like a disgrace, I melted into him, greedy for his warmth and comfort.
“Anything I can help with?” he asked, making me feel worse and less worthy of him, as well.
I snuggled into him. “Just…hold me.”
“Torture, having to hold my lovely future wife in my arms.”
In spite of everything, I laughed. Him calling me wife mellowed the sharper edges that always pricked my mind.
The crown hadn’t accepted me, but Ryker still did. Nothing had changed in the way he inhaled my very presence.
He slid his other arm underneath my head, hand covering my shoulder as we molded and melded together. In the safety of his embrace, my breathing evened out, matching his. Even ourheartbeats, pulsing against each other’s skin, aligned until mine stopped galloping.
Only then did he murmur again, “Nadya and Geryll are excited for you to join us for tea time.”
A startled smile bloomed on my face. Too bad he couldn’t see it.
“Nadya is excited?” I asked.
