Fire Falling - Kova Elise (полные книги TXT) 📗

“I want you,” he uttered huskily.

“Have me.” Vhalla had never been so brazen. But this man was fire. He was life. He was the only thing that had felt good or right in weeks, and she loved him so deeply it made her ache to think of parting with him ever again.

“No,” he said, as if the word was a curse.

“What?” Her eyes fluttered open to see him staring down at her.

He was heavy-lidded as well, he’d been indulging in the same cup of passion as she. “I won’t take you like this.” He caressed her cheek.

“Why?” she groaned.

“Because I care too deeply for you to have you in such a wanton way.” He kissed down her jaw, his actions completely contradicting his words.

“What if I want you to?” Vhalla couldn’t believe she was almost at the point of begging.

He couldn’t either and Aldrik chuckled darkly. “Will you want me less come the dawn?”

“Mother, no.” She pressed her eyes closed—the thought of dawn, of being Serien again, of being distant from him threatened to crush her spirit.

“Will you want me less come the next dawn?” He nipped lightly at her collarbone, pulling back her shirt with his greedy fingers. “Or the one after?”

“No, no, no,” Vhalla uttered, praying he never stopped his ministrations upon her.

“Then it shall be a fruit that will ripen with time and patience.” Aldrik pressed his cheek against hers, his lips moving against her ear as he spoke. “And it shall be all the sweeter when it is finally plucked.”

There were dark promises heaped between his words that were sealed with his actions. With nothing more than kissing and timid explorations he had a flush from her chest to her cheeks and her breathing heavy. Vhalla was driven crazy every time her fingers ran over the taut muscles in his shoulders. She was ready to scream his name when his fire glittered across her skin, crackling against her magic.

Eventually he rolled to his side, scooping her half onto him, his arms around her hips. Aldrik ran his hand along her back as she kissed him leisurely. Vhalla wasn’t sure when or why the heat faded, but when it did she found herself curled against his bare chest, her head tucked up by his neck and chin and his arm around her. The passion had settled into a warm honey, simmering at the pit of her stomach.

“Aldrik ...” Her whisper transformed into a yawn.

“Yes, my Vhalla?” he replied.

She felt his voice reverberate in both his neck and chest, and it made her shiver. “Nothing ... I just wanted to hear you say my name.”

“Vhalla, Vhalla, Vhalla,” he obliged, punctuating each with a kiss on her forehead.

“If morning never came, I think that would be all right ...” Her body was beginning to calm down, and the yawns becoming more frequent.

“I think it would be,” he agreed, pulling her closer.

“We will be together, from tomorrow?” She hadn’t dared ask, fearful of the answer. But if she had to brace herself for the worst, she wanted to know now. She would need the night to prepare herself.

“I wrote the list of soldiers myself.” Aldrik nodded. “We will not be apart ever again from tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that a nice dream?” She yawned again.

“My Vhalla, my lady, my love.” His words smoothed away the rough edges of her heart. “You make me do things far more dangerous than dream. You make me hope, you make me want.” He sighed a sound that was part bliss and part pain. “Mother, I have yet to discover if you will be my salvation or my demise.”

She twisted to look up at him, his dark eyes intense.

“I would never bring you harm.” She pressed her lips against his.

“Salvation, then.” He grinned against her mouth.

Morning threatened to burn through the canvas of the tent, and Vhalla felt as though the world began and ended with the man she was curled up against. His steady breathing and heartbeat were in perfect time with hers and created a melody that had a sweet timbre. Not quite awake, but no longer sleeping, Vhalla drifted through a blissful haze.

A haze that was abruptly interrupted by a broad-shouldered prince entering the tent. Vhalla sat quickly, as if doing so could hide the truth of spending the night in the crown prince’s arms. It was a contest to see whose face turned the reddest—hers or Baldair’s.

“Good Gods, you’re still here?” He cast a hand over his eyes as Aldrik sat as well, the covers pooling around his waist to reveal him only half clothed. “Brother, your debt to me is unfathomably great.”

Vhalla looked back at Aldrik in alarm, only to see that he had a lazy grin spreading from cheek to cheek. He turned to her, looking five years younger with a good night of sleep. Aldrik grabbed her for a brief kiss—startling in its passion, given their audience.

“My brother is right,” Aldrik whispered. “I must go or they’ll wonder where I am.”

She nodded.

“Wait for me until tonight?”

“Tonight?” She blinked at her prince.

“We will be together again with far fewer eyes upon us.” Aldrik grinned.

“In enemy territory!” She punched his shoulder, surprisingly playful given the subject.

“I’ll put the best men on watch.” He gripped her hand, bringing it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.

“Any time now,” Baldair muttered, clearly uncomfortable by the lovers who had shared his bed.

“Unfortunately, no one will think twice about a woman leaving your tent,” Aldrik muttered, standing and dressing. “So I’ll go first.” He turned to Baldair. “Thank you, brother.”

There was a raw sincerity that Baldair was clearly not used to receiving from his brother. It brought a smile to Vhalla’s lips to be privy to it. The two of them weren’t so bad when they stopped fighting.

Aldrik gave her one last look, as if memorizing her form. Vhalla nodded. She only had to be strong for a short time more, she could do it. Then, that night, she’d find her way into his arms again. That knowledge alone kept her sane.

Baldair crossed over to the bed the second his brother left, assessing her. Vhalla regarded his gaze warily. “It’s real then.”

“What is?”

“You and Aldrik.” Baldair could barely say it, as if the words would bring the Mother’s wrath upon him.

“I love him.” She nodded. “And he loves me.”

“Vhalla ...” Baldair sighed and sat beside her on the bed. “Please, be careful.”

“More warnings?” She frowned.

“Not like before.” Baldair shook his head. “I’ve never seen Aldrik like this, I know his feelings are not mirrors and manipulation.”

“I tried to tell you that.” She was unable to hide her frustration. “He would never hurt me.”

“That’s not what I now fear for.” Baldair shook his head. “Vhalla, he is the crown prince.”

“I know that.” She gripped the blanket with white knuckles. “Why is it that you can be the playboy prince, chase whatever strikes your fancy, and he’s chastised for spending time with me? We haven’t even—” She stopped herself with a blush.

“Because I will not inherit the crown.” The prince regarded her with a heavy sincerity. “I’m the spare, Vhalla. No one cares what I do, they care what he does.”

“But they love you.” It was no secret who the common people’s favorite was.

“They love me because I never have to heap punishments upon them, or carry out executions, or levy taxes. I host parties and open casks of wine.” Baldair shook his head. “They don’t like him because Aldrik will be a fair ruler. He doesn’t care about being loved, he cares about doing what’s right.”

“And what’s wrong with—”

“Until you.” Baldair placed his palm on the top of her head. “You’re the first thing I’ve ever seen him want to take for himself.”

“What’s your point?” Vhalla knew already she wasn’t going to like it.

“That it also means that you are the first thing the world knows it can take from him.”

She froze in place and remembered Lord Ophain’s words: the chink in his armor. As deeply as their Bond ran, she was still learning about her prince and Vhalla saw the man known as the Fire Lord in a new way. His reputation, his titles, they elevated him and protected him better than forged steel or boiled leather.