Page 47 of The Rebel's Prize

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"That's because you're an infuriating, stupid, stubborn man who always has to push things."

"I push things," he growled, "because I love you, Chloe."

"And I love you, too," she shouted back.

And then her hands flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror.

"Youwhat?"

Her hands didn't move.

He closed the distance between them in one quick stride and peeled them away from her face. "Say that again."

She shook her head slowly, but there was something in her expression that made him think she wasn't so unwilling as she was pretending to be.

"Say it again, Chloe," he said, hand cupping her cheek.

Her gaze dipped. "I love you," she muttered.

Joy sang like victory through his veins even though he considered asking her to say it again. Just in case he was dreaming. But her cheek pressed into his hand, and then she lifted her face, eyes wide, and he put his other hand around her waist and pulled her close. Where he'd wanted her to be all along.

"Luc—"

He cut his name off with his lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back, hands curling against his back and shoulders as tightly as his were on her waist.

She hit his veins like a shot of kafiet. Hot and sweet and intoxicating. He wanted to drink her down, not sure he'd ever get enough.

She loved him. He didn't need the bond or his magic to believe it. Certainty filled him, spinning through every spike of want and longing jolting through his blood as they kissed, as she opened her mouth to him and he tasted her, hands trying to pull her closer still.

Never close enough.

He was just about to drag Chloe down to the mattress the way every instinct he had was screaming at him to when someone rapped on the tent frame, making the wards chime.

"What in the hell-cursed name of the goddess?" he muttered, pulling his mouth from hers reluctantly.

Chloe looked as dazed as he felt, eyes wide and dark. "Ignore it."

He shook his head, trying to ignore the effect of her breathy voice on his common sense. "They wouldn't interrupt if it wasn't important," he said, pushing her back gently.Ice. Snow. Winter. He tried desperately to think of cold things that might cool his aching cock as he crossed the tent and untied the flap. "What?"

Lieutenant Envier stood outside, his blue eyes looking somewhat apologetic. His uniform jacket was half unfastened and his brown hair messy, as though perhaps he'd been sleeping. He saluted quickly. "My apologies, my lord. I didn't mean to disturb you, but there's a messenger."

"A messenger?"From where?He tried to make his brain, still firmly focused on Chloe, work.

Lieutenant Envier stepped back, revealing a young blonde woman in the black uniform of the Imperial army standing a few feet behind him. The pins on her collar revealed her as both a lieutenant and a courier. Her braided hair was somewhat mussed, and there was dirt smudged on her face, but her spine was straight. She snapped a salute, her other hand gripping an Imperial courier's pouch.

Lucien beckoned her forward. "You have something for me, Lieutenant?"

She looked at him. "You are Lord Castaigne?"

"Yes," he said impatiently, "I am." He held up his hand to show her the signet ring that bore the tower and stars of Terre d'Etoi.

She looked at it, then nodded once and handed over the pouch. "A message from Lumia, my lord."

He regarded the pouch warily. The likelihood that it was going to be good news rather than bad seemed small. "Any idea what this is about?" he asked Lieutenant Envier.

The lieutenant shook his head. "She said she can only tell you, my lord. So perhaps we should go inside so you can read the message."

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