Page 59 of Winds of Darkness
And it made him so uneasy because he did not want that to be her impression of him. She didn’t realize that—
“I understand I can be vexing,” she lilted, dropping her arm, but her grip remained on her weapon.
“Vexing. You think I stopped coming to see you because I find you vexing?” Briar repeated.
She gave a curt nod of her chin. “I do not fault you for it.”
He moved then, quickly in the way the Fae could, but so did she. In the next blink, he stood in front of her, and she had her blade raised once more, the edge at his throat. He let her keep it there, but he also placed the tip of his finger beneath her chin, tipping her head back and keeping her eyes on his. “I find you clever. I find you captivating. Alluring in a way I have never experienced. I find you so incredibly enthralling that my thoughts wander to you multiple times a day. But I find you anything but vexing, Ashtine Evermorn.”
“Why?” she asked, and gods. It wasn’t breathy or teasing. She was truly asking why. Because she was Ashtine. The princess who saw the worlds differently than the rest of them.
“Because you are a breath of fresh air, my dear,” he answered.
Her brow furrowed. “That is … nonsensical.”
“Very much so,” he agreed. “It is nonsensical that even with a blade at my throat I am contemplating if the inevitable injury would be worth it to press my lips to yours.”
Ashtine stepped back, her weapon still poised as she stared at him for a long second. Two. Three. He gave her time, letting her process. Then she slowly lowered her blade as she said, “It is nonsensical that I am not opposed to that. It breaks laws of old.”
“It is nonsensical that I do not care,” he replied.
“You should care, Prince Drayce. Breaking the laws of old angers the gods and Fates.”
“Briar.”
“What?”
He closed the space she’d put between them, but she didn’t raise her weapon again. “Stop calling me ‘Prince Drayce,’” he said,the words laced with a primal growl. “And I do not care. In this moment, the only thing I care about is your permission to take what I want.”
“It is not that simple—”
“It is either an approval or a denial,” he cut in, echoing her words from weeks ago. He was being pushy, but he didn’t care about that either because he’d been thinking about this since the morning hours they’d spent talking together on a beach.
“We will regret this,” she whispered.
“I do not think I could ever regret you, Ashtine. Yes or no?”
“Yes.”
She’d scarcely whispered the word when his lips were on hers, breathing in her approval. His hand cupped her jaw, tipping her head to the perfect angle to deepen the kiss while his other arm wound around her waist, pulling her into him. In the back of his mind, he registered the sound of her blade clinking against the floor when she dropped it. Then soft fingers skimmed along his cheek, and her other hand curled around his forearm.
Ashtine pushed onto her toes, seeking more from him, and his magic pressed against his skin in approval, seeking her wind, her air, all ofher. Gods, if they weren’t careful, this was going to be far more than a kiss. If their magic became involved, this would become so much more.
She must have had the same thoughts because she broke the kiss first, but she didn’t move away. Their bodies were still pressed together, and when she tilted her head, silver hair flowed on her phantom winds.
Winds that had been absent until this moment.
“I am sorry I stayed away,” he murmured into the space between their lips. “Never again. If you need me, I will be there. With you. For you.”
His thumb brushed along her cheekbone, and an expression he couldn’t read filled her features. She finally took that step back from him. “I should return, but I require a water portal to leave your quarters.”
“I invited you for a meal, and we have not dined together,” he argued.
“I did tell you I was not hungry.”
“Then meet me on the shore before the sun wakes.”
“Perhaps.”
