Page 69 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
He was sure, at first, still basking in the faint glow of the fire, that he would be warm enough to last the night. He tucked his hands into his arms and rolled onto his back on the bed of leaves he’d made for them both. It did little to help with comfort, but it stole away some of the cold from the stone.
For an hour or two, it worked.
He woke later, surrounded by a cold so hard that it clawed at his chest. The fire had long since gone out. His fingers felt frosty, his nose numb.
Half without thinking, he inched towards Aislinn, to the only source of warmth he had.
I’ll just rest for a moment,he told himself.I’ll just warm up and crawl back out. Or I’ll pace around the cave, keep moving. I won’t sleep here. I won’t…
He warmed his hands beneath the cloak, another breath dusting his fingers. She was so close to him. In the pale, faint light of the moon, she looked like a marble sculpture, a deity that men would bow beneath.
But the deity was soft and warm, and not as frightening as she had once been, but human and breakable and real.
He couldn’t remember why she’d frightened him—why any tales of the fae had.
And he could not remember why he was supposed to leave her side.
Aislinnwokeearlyasdawn rose over the carpet of glistening snow, filling the cave with pale, bluish light. Caer was beside her, so close that his breath brushed her temples, his body warm in stark contrast to the still, icy air.
She forced her fingers together and brought them up to her face. They still felt numb, but at least she could move them. She rolled tentatively onto her side, her hand hovering next to his face, over his warm, parted lips…
Do not think about his lips.
She inched backwards, but dared not remove herself from the heat, not even when another, deeper one was stirring inside her.
She ought to have been worried, stranded here in winter, unable to move, at risk of freezing or starving, but although she was worried for the others, she had no fears for herself. She felt oddly safe here, exposed and vulnerable though she was.
She glanced once more at Caer. Doubtless he had something to do with that feeling. She wished she didn’t know that, wished shedidn’tfeel this safe, wished she had some way of pushing him away from her that was as easy as inching back. Her father had kept a book of insulting nicknames for her mother to try and ease the hold Juliana had over him. She’d always thought that strange until now.
But those words were like his knives, the only defence he had against her, and now more than ever Aislinn wished she had a blade in her hand—a weapon to slay her desires.
Caer’s eyes flickered. He immediately shivered, groaning into the cloak, before opening his eyes. He looked at her like he’d half forgotten where they were.
Aislinn smiled, glad she’d moved back a little. “Prince.”
“Princess.” His mouth twitched into that irritating, sinful smirk. “Why are you smiling?”
“Why areyou?”
“You first.”
“I was thinking of giving you a nickname,” she revealed, grateful that had been the thought he’d woken on. No need to reveal the other ones. “Why wereyousmiling?”
“Easy. I’m looking at you.”
Aislinn considered flicking on a quick glamour to hide her blush, although she suspected it was far too late. “What does ‘Caerwyn’ mean?”
“Blessed, or love, orfair.Apparently, when I was born, I was as ‘pale as the moonbeam I was born under.’”
“Hmm… Prince Fair isn’t working for me.”
“You could always call me ‘love’.”
Aislinn rolled over, the heat increasing. She hated how he could switch from bashful to flirtatious in an instant, and hated how her body reacted to it. Why couldn’t she think of a barb to shoot back?
“I notice you’re not saying ‘never’...”
“Oh, shut up.”
