Nuwin gave a lopsided smile. “I’m sure you’re not.”
“Did you think it was a game? You dare to take her from my side on tonight of all nights?”
The younger prince’s expression turned sheepish. “She needed a break from you, brother. I simply provided her an escape. I was trying to be a gentlefae.”
Norivun lowered his wing and closed the space between them until they stood toe to toe. “You know what she is to me, yet you still play your games?” he said it so quietly that I almost didn’t hear him.
What I was to him? I cocked my head, wondering what he meant by that comment.
Nuwin gave his brother an appeasing smile and patted his shoulder. “It was just some harmless fun, Nori. All’s well. And look, Michas even kept her warm.” Nuwin gestured to the jacket I wore.
The prince cursed as the aura around him strengthened. Bowing, Nuwin gave me a wink before leaving the balcony and closing the door behind him.
Alone on the balcony with the crown prince, I stiffened as he prowled closer to me. The air seemed to thin with each step that he took until it felt as though I couldn’t catch my breath. All the while, I kept thinking about what Michas had claimed—that Norivun had mistphased back to the castle repeatedly during his time away to murder more fae.
Vivid blue irises swirled with power as the prince’s nostrils flared. “Did Michas hurt you?”
“No, not at all.” I pulled the noble’s jacket tighter around me. “We talked and danced, and he said he wanted to get to know me more. That’s all.”
“But he was nearly . . . touching you.”
“So?”
The crown prince’s eyes narrowed further. “Why are you wearing his jacket?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I was cold, and he offered it.”
His frown deepened, and then in a swift move, Michas’s jacket was off my shoulders and fluttering to the ground. Cold air assaulted me, but before I could gasp, the prince unbuttoned his own jacket and slid it around my shoulders. Warmth as hot as a roaring fire settled over my skin, and the prince’s tantalizing scent of snow and cedar came next.
My heart pounded as his top settled around me. “What did you do that for?”
“I don’t like seeing his clothes on you.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“Does it matter?”
I straightened and knew if I didn’t ask now, I would always wonder. “Can I ask you something, and do you promise to be honest?”
His expression turned guarded. “What do you want to ask me?”
“Did you mistphase repeatedly back to the castle during the month I was locked within the Exorbiant Chamber to handle commoners who’d come to the castle with their concerns of the dying crops?”
His lips parted as genuine confusion swam across his features. “No, of course not.”
“Not once?”
“Not once.”
“Then why did Michas accuse you of such?”
A low growl rumbled in his chest. “Because Michas Crimsonale is a conniving bastard who would sooner see me gutted than be heir to the throne.”
My eyes widened.
The prince shook his head. “Michas and I have a bit of a history. He cuts down my integrity every chance he gets.”
“So, you’re not lying? You never came back to the castle, not even once, in the month you were gone?”
His eyes softened. “No, Ilara. I’m not lying to you. I never returned in that time.”
Some of the swirling worry in my gut subsided. But Blessed Mother, Prince Norivun seemed honest too. Either that or my gut instincts were completely off. Rubbing my temples, I shook my head. I didn’t know what to believe or who was lying, but perhaps it truly was as the prince claimed—that Michas worked to undermine the crown prince every chance he got. I supposed it was fitting and went hand in hand with what I’d experienced tonight.
Crossing my arms, I changed the subject. “You know, it was quite offensive how you and the king spoke of me.”
“You’re angry with me.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I thought you were, and I know I spoke aloofly and how it must have seemed to you, but . . .” He tore a hand through his hair again. “Please believe me when I say that things are not as they seem.”
“If they’re not as they seem, then how are they?”
Warring emotions played across his features. “It’s important that my father doesn’t know what you are to me. It’s important that I act a certain way around you when he’s near.”
“What does that even mean?”
He closed the distance between us. “You ask too many questions.”
My entire body locked up when his head lowered. He placed a hand on either side of me, each palm gripping the balcony behind me, and the strength of his aura pounded through me, imprisoning me within its power.
He leaned down, and his nose brushed against my neck. A searing fire coated my skin when he whispered, “How about I tell you something else? I don’t like it when you run from me, and I don’t like it when I find you in another male’s company, especially when you’re wearing his clothes.”
My insides fluttered. Blessed Mother, my entire body felt as though it was coming alive. His lips were nearly pressing to my throat.
“That’s very . . . possessive sounding.”
He growled low in his chest. “You have no idea.”
And strangely, I had a feeling I didn’t. It suddenly felt as though I didn’t understand anything. Not him. Not this court. Not even my own feelings. Because I wanted him to kiss me. Touch me. Hold me. That in itself verified that I’d lost my mind, because he was still the male who’d destroyed everything I held dear. So how could I want those things?
He shifted closer and brushed against me. My nipples peaked at the contact, and a satisfied purr came from his throat.
His mouth was moving closer to mine. Closer. Closer, with every shallow breath I took.
He inhaled slowly, as though savoring something, and then his lips pressed to mine.
My gasp was trapped in his mouth, but his lips were moving, slowly at first but then with demanding purpose.
A moan escaped me, and my entire body zinged in awareness. My arms wrapped around his neck. I was kissing him in return as his hands gripped my hips and wrenched me closer.
Blessed Mother.
Heat flooded my core as the prince ravaged my mouth. He tasted of sin and snow, spice and fire, and I’d never tasted anything so sweet, so addictive.
I moaned as my fingers tangled through his hair as he hoisted me up on the balcony. He spread my thighs, my gown lifting as his hard body stepped between my legs.
His rigid length found my entrance immediately, even though my underthings and his pants still prevented true contact. But it was enough for me to feel all of him. He pressed his cock right against my most intimate area. And Mother Below, he was so stiff. So thick.
My core flooded with moisture—already I was primed for him. I wanted him and was willing to acquiesce to whatever he demanded.
I moaned and rubbed against him, needing more. More.
His hand traveled up my back to cup my neck. I instinctively arched into him.