Page 37 of Ash and Burn

The thought should have terrified her. Instead, it filled her with a longing so intense it nearly stole her breath. She was craving things she'd convinced herself she didn't need. Shared meals. Shared moments. A partner who enhanced her strengths and anticipated her needs.

You're imagining a future with him.

The realization should have sent her running back to Texas. Instead, it made her want to lean into the possibility, to see what might grow between them if she stopped fighting it.

By the time they reached Ashspire, exhaustion was winning the battle against her restless energy. Her guest suite welcomed her with its opulent comfort, but she barely registered the luxury as she collapsed onto the massive bed. Sleep claimed her instantly, pulling her under with the force of accumulated fatigue and emotional overwhelm. Her last conscious thought was wondering if Calix would actually follow through on his dinner promise.

When consciousness returned, the twin moons hung high outside her window like silver guardians watching over Ashvorn. The sight disoriented her—she'd expected to nap for an hour, maybe two. This looked like the deep of night.

Confusion propelled her from the bed and down the stairs toward the dining room, expecting to find Calix waiting with whatever meal he'd prepared. But the formal dining space stood empty, no place settings or food anywhere. The kitchen proved equally barren of both king and sustenance.

How long was I asleep?

The question nagged at her as she climbed the stairs to his private level, feeling like an intruder but needing answers. The vast space opened before her, firelight casting dancing shadows across the expensive furnishings and ancient artifacts. But instead of finding him at his usual spot on the sofa, she discovered him in bed, propped against pillows with reports scattered across the covers.

He looked up as she approached, his bare chest gilded by the moonlight streaming through the windows. The sight sent heat racing through her veins.

"You're finally awake," Calix said, his voice carrying warmth and something deeper that made her heart race.

She forced herself to focus on practical concerns. "What time is it?"

"Well past midnight."

The answer stopped her short. She'd slept for hours, not the brief rest she'd intended. "I didn't realize I'd slept that long. I'm sorry I missed dinner."

His expression softened with understanding. "You needed the rest. I can reheat what I prepared⁠—"

"No, that's not necessary," she started to protest, but he was already moving, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"I'm reheating dinner," he said with quiet authority. "Stay here."

The command should have annoyed her. Instead, she found herself settling onto his massive bed as he disappeared down the stairs, the scent of him rising from the sheets and pillows like an embrace. His bed was ridiculously comfortable, the kind of luxury that made her understand why royalty rarely left their palaces.

This is dangerous, she warned herself, even as she breathed deeper, letting his scent wrap around her senses. You're in the king's bed.

But when he returned with a plate of food that smelled like heaven, she couldn't summon the will to move. The sight of him approaching—still shirtless, still devastatingly attractive, carrying food he'd prepared specifically for her—did something to her defenses that felt irreversible.

"Here," he said, settling beside her on the bed with casual intimacy. "Don't move. You can eat comfortably here."

The way his eyes darkened as he watched her accept the plate sent heat spiraling through her. This felt impossibly intimate, sharing his bed and his food while moonlight painted silver across their skin.

As she ate, acutely aware of his presence beside her, she wondered why this felt so natural. Why sitting in the king's bed felt safe. Why every moment with him made her life on Earth seem like a pale imitation of actual living.

When she finished the meal and moved to leave, his voice stopped her.

"You don't have to leave this time."

The words hung in the air, heavy with possibility. For once, Arvid found herself tired of running from what she truly wanted. And what she wanted, more than anything right now, was him.

Just for tonight. But maybe longer, if she was brave enough to admit it.

FOURTEEN

CALIX

Calix watched Arvid stand from his bed, his chest tightening with the familiar expectation of her leaving. His dragon growled in protest, a low vibration of denial that resonated in his bones. But she didn't turn toward the stairs. Instead, she crossed the vast expanse of his chambers, drawn like a magnet to the pair of wide French doors that led to the Vael Terrace.

He rose slowly from the bed. "Want a closer look?" His voice sounded rougher than he intended, scraped raw by the intimacy of her eating in his bed beside him.