“That’s nice.” I try to open my eyes but can’t. “You’re the best.”
Suddenly I feel warm and cozy for the first time in days. I fall into a deep sleep and dream I’m back in the thrax stables. I kneel on the soft hay as Lincoln gently rubs my back. My eyes flutter open. The world outside my window is still dark.
I awaken with a start and realize something: the High Prince lies behind me, his arms wrapped around my belly.
Unholy Moley. I fidget and scan the room. We’re alone.
Lincoln’s voice sounds low in my ear. “Hello, Myla.” A lovely shiver runs down my spine.
I twist about to face him, sensing the warmth and firmness of his chest against mine, the cozy feeling of my head on his arm, and the comfort of heavy blankets encasing us. “Hi, Lincoln.” I grin through a hazy brain. “How did this awesomeness happen?”
“Walker brought me here from earth. I’m playing hooky from demon patrol.”
“Mmm.” A sense of peace washes over my sleepy mind. I close my eyes and nestle my head into the crook of Lincoln’s arm. “Walker brought you all the way here to cuddle?”
“No, this is my idea.” I hear the smile in his voice; feel his warm breath circle the shell of my ear. “I decided it has therapeutic value.”
“It does. Thanks for sneaking away.”
He gently kisses my forehead. “I can’t stay long. The Earl of Acca’s threatening war.”
“That family is hell on toast.” I force myself to focus on his face. Acca is threatening war? I have a sinking suspicion what the Earl really wants. “Is he still pushing for you and Adair to get married?”
Lincoln nods. “But I’m recruiting more of the lesser Houses to the Alliance. I’ll stop him, Myla.” He exhales a long breath. “Actually, I’m supposed to be on demon patrol with the House of Gurith right now, convincing them to join up. I’m afraid I must leave in a few minutes.”
A heavy pause hangs in the air. A few minutes. “I’ll miss you, friend.”
“This doesn’t have to be goodbye. Walker told me your summit begins in a few weeks. If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you can visit Antrum before everything starts.” His thumb strokes my upper arm. “Maybe we visit the House of Striga, find a way to remove the igni.”
I pause, biting my lower lip. Not so sure I want my powers removed anymore. For the first time, I wonder if Lincoln’s ever faced the same question. I scan his mismatched eyes. “Do you ever think about leaving Antrum?”
He glances around the room, considering. “Sure. I have my days.” He leans in closer, offering me a shy grin. “I have a fantasy that you and I go to Earth and find a tropical island.”
Hmm, this is rather specific. Color me interested. “What do we do there?”
He blushes and it’s so cute, I can’t stand it. “Fool around, fight demons.” He runs two fingers up my arm like they’re a pair of legs. “Have little thrax.”
Wow. He wants to have a family with me someday. I can’t decide if that’s scary or sweet. Hmm…Sweet, definitely sweet.
I giggle. “And how do we do stuff like make money or find food?”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that kind of thing. I put a lot more thought into what you’re wearing and the demons we kill together.” He bobs his eyebrows up and down.
Cheeky monkey. “So, you have thought about leaving.” My smile fades. “Why don’t you?”
“The same reason you’re not interested getting rid of the igni anymore.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “You aren’t interested now, are you?”
It’s my turn to blush. How does he read me so well? “No. Definitely not.”
The Prince raises his brows in a look that says ‘so, tell me.’
“I’ve complained about life in Purgatory for ages. But the problem’s bigger than being told how to dress or serve. The way the ghouls ran things, a lot of good souls were destroyed. Now that I’m the Scala, I think I can change things. I need to stay here and prepare for the summit.”
Lincoln nods. “I understand. You can make a difference, so you have to try. Not everyone gets that chance.” He lets out another long breath. “I know the feeling well.”
I run my finger along his jaw, and then over his lower lip. He’s staying in Antrum for the same reason I’m staying in Purgatory, and somehow that means we’ll be apart. Doing the right thing can be such a pain in the ass.
Lincoln’s mismatched eyes search my face for a long minute. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “As Scala, you’ll have diplomatic duties to attend to, eventually.” He slides a strand of hair behind my ear. The sensation sends a pleasant shiver through my belly.
I mock-frown. “None that I know of.”
“Perhaps you’ll be surprised by an invitation to Arx Hall.”
“I don’t know, unexpected invitations haven’t worked out for me.” In my mind’s eye, I picture the embossed invite for Zeke’s party that arrived six months and a million years ago.