He tipped his chin toward the bed. “My bed chambers are yours now.” He turned his head toward the desk. “I’ll live in the sitting room.” He met my eyes. “Pretend the walls are still up. I won’t cross into your space without permission. I’ll leave the entire room if you tell me to. But I cannot risk leaving you alone again.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Share a room with the king? That seemed wildly inappropriate. Strangely enough, though, the thought of being alone was far more terrifying.
He dropped his forehead down to meet mine. He had done this a few times now, and it erased all my anxious feelings with other… uncertain ones every time. The heat from his skin mixed with a fluttering in my heart that wanted to draw closer to him… to touch more than his forehead.
“If I could go back to that winter day when I first met you,” he whispered, “and face you knowing then what I know now, I would have dropped to my knees and begged for your forgiveness. I would have sent you home with your brother…” His voice caught and he swallowed. “But I did not. And now I have trapped you here with someone who is trying to kill you. I just want to keep you safe.”
I brought my free hand to hold on to his. “You don’t have any guest rooms?”
“I do, but the nobles use them for meals or other gatherings.” His breath warmed the air in front of my face. We weresoclose. If I twitched, our lips would touch.
As if hearing my thoughts, he tipped his chin down so our foreheads still touched, but his mouth was just a little farther from mine. It made my own breathing hitch. I had so many feelings for this elf, but he was a king. The King of the Elves should not kiss a forest-raised half-fae. He was probablysupposed to marry a queen from one of the other elf kingdoms someday.
But he tightened his hold on my hands. “The guest rooms are not secure and can be accessed by multiple doors, windows, and corridors. I will take you there if you truly want me to, but I would rather give you this room. Nothing is more protected than this tower.”
I turned to look at his bed again, pulling my head away from his. I wanted to collapse on that bed. I would feel a thousand times safer here than anywhere else. But… “Where would you sleep?”
He pointed at the couches with his chin. “They are longer than I am tall, and they’re plenty comfortable. If you don’t mind, I might take one of the pillows off the bed.”
Piles of pillows covered half the bed. Maybe he saved them for his drekkan self. I nodded slowly. “All I really want right now is to sleep.”
He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my wrist. Slowly. As if making a statement that incinerated all my earlier thoughts about how he couldn’t kiss me. I couldn’t guess whathewanted to say, butIheard sympathy and care, tenderness and power leashed on a tight chain, warmth and concern. I heard love, whispered on the silent breath of his lips against the sensitive skin on my wrist.
He straightened up and whispered, “I know.” Then he pointed at the bed and added, “Come.”
It felt like an invitation more than an order. How a few months can change so many things! I followed him to the far side of his room.Myroom. At least until whoever was attacking me was gone. He paced ahead of me, opened one of the wardrobes, and handed me two piecesof clothing.
I held them up and raised a brow to meet his mischievous smile. “A tunic and a jacket? For a king?”
The mischievous smile grew a little wilder. “They’ll cover you better than any nightdress and dressing gown. And I don’t like the idea of ashes in my bed.”
I threw the jacket at his face. The shock in his eyes was worth it—I nearly laughed out loud. “I thought you said it was my bed.”
His smile hit his eyes. “It is. And you can drown it in ashes if you choose. But just in case you change your mind—” He tossed the jacket back at me. I caught it and buried my face in the rich smells of his leather and cedar. I would probably sleep much better wrapped in the scents that reminded me of him than in the ashes of my near-death experience.
I pointed at the door to the hall. “You can’t be in here while I change.”
He dipped his head and left the room.
I peeled off my damaged dress and underclothes. Even the layers closest to my skin smelled like smoke. I stuffed them all in a trash bin.
When I lifted his tunic to my face, though, I couldn’t put it on—not while I smelled like a charred wrap of hay. I dropped the tunic on the bed and let my feet take over my mind. They insisted on a walk to the washroom.
I rinsed under the bath water as it fell—I didn’t want Aedan to decide I was taking too long and come check on me. When I lathered his soap, though, the spiced cedar slowed me down. All this time, I’d thought his cedar scent came from spending time in the forest as a drekkan. But no. It was his soap.
The fresh smells filled the air, bathing my senses as much as my skin. I lathered another round of soap, and then a third.When I could not detect a trace of smoke, I turned off the water, dried myself, and changed into his tunic and jacket.
The jacket wrapped around me as easily as a blanket. I snuggled inside it and leaned my head against the door. “Aedan? Can you hear me?”
His voice came immediately, also next to the door. “Yes. Are you done?”
The image of him leaning against the door in the hall during my entire bath made me chuckle. “Have you been standing there this whole time?”
“Yes.”
The jacket’s warm folds hid my arms, and I did not want to take them out. “You can come in.”
He opened the door, scanned me from top to bottom, and then settled his gaze on my face while my favorite half-crazed smile scrawled over his features. “You look a hundred times better.”
