Page 79 of Claimed By the Fae Lord

I snorted. “Obviously.”

“Are you really so surprised?”

“Surprised that you want my body? No, you’ve been pretty clear on that.”

His eyes darkened. “I want more than just your body, Raina.”

My core flexed right along with my heart. “That’s the part I’m hung up on.”

“Are you considering it? Have you ever thought about it?”

“Of course I have.”

Liam stalked closer. I held up my hand to halt him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he coaxed.

I took a deep breath praying I didn’t drown in the abyss after I jumped.

“I’m thinking, possibly, we could start—”

A low growl of satisfaction rumbled from his chest as he swiftly moved to kneel in front of me.

“—as friends.”

His hands were reaching for my knees when my words registered.

"Friends?" His mouth moved like the word tasted odd on his tongue.

He ran a hand through his chocolate waves again, rising back up to his feet. His stance was rigid yet somehow imploring as he stared down at me.

I held my breath.

Miraculously, one corner of his mouth lifted as his muscles relaxed. “If this is what it takes, friends it is,” he agreed, holding his hand out.

I took it, ignoring the zap of energy between us as he pulled me to my feet and close to his body.

“Don’t look so shocked. If this is what you need, so be it.”

He paused, leaning close and fixing me with an intent look that had bumps breaking out across my flesh. "But be warned, my flower, I’ll never be content with just a friendship. I'm giving you time to get used to the idea, but I fully intend to make you mine again."

The raw intensity in his voice wrapped around me like a tangible force, sending a surge of heated excitement through my veins. It was a dangerous promise, one that thrilled and terrified me in equal measure.

The memory of our betrothal, the sharp sting of my parents' actions and the ache of loss, still haunted me. Fear whispered that history would repeat itself, that Liam would unravel me only to leave me in pieces.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" I managed to quip, attempting to infuse humor into the charged atmosphere, to conceal the tremor of vulnerability that threatened to betray me.

"Take it as you will," he replied, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, softening the hardness in his eyes for a fleeting moment.

In the silence that followed, I found myself caught in the gravity of his orbit, unable to break free even if I wanted to. I was about to do something stupid, like pull his lips down to mine, when he ushered me out the door.

The chill of the morning air was a sharp contrast to the warmth that had lingered between Liam and I only moments before. Without speaking, we navigated the narrow bridges to the infirmary, giving my mind something else to focus on.

Liam led all the way to Mirrelle’s room. He pushed open the door, and my nose was hit with the heavy scent of healing herbs. In the bed, Mirrelle lay propped up on a nest of pillows, her skin pale but her spirit still shining in her eyes.

Gunnar occupied a seat near her bedside, his presence as imposing as ever, sipping coffee with an air of detached nonchalance.

"Liam, can your father come back and guard me instead of Drótinn Junior over here?" Mirrelle’s voice was weak but laced with her characteristic feistiness.

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