37. Prince Cole
Chapter 37
Prince Cole
“Love is when he gives you a piece of
your soul that you never knew was missing.”
— Torquato Tasso
B y morning, the fresh images of her lifeless body are still reeling in my head, plaguing and haunting me. I can’t shake the feeling that something terrible is about to happen.
How dangerously self-destructive it is to desire something death can touch.
Just when I’m about to leave my bedroom, she appears in front of me. “You mentioned you had a gift for me.”
I can’t help but grin like a fool as I walk to my drawer.
She steps inside and glances around, her expression turning into something I don’t like.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just… I don’t like the memory. Last time I was in here, I was unconscious.”
“Let’s go to your room,” I offer quickly.
“No, it’s fine,” she insists, though her discomfort is palpable.
I grab the gift and take her hand, leading her to her room. Reaching into my pocket, I retrieve the necklace and place it in her hands. It’s a delicate gold chain adorned with a small, diamond-studded lock pendant and a key.
Her mouth falls open slightly, eyes wide with astonishment. “This is the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen,” she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You really like it?” I ask, almost breathless, needing to hear the words again.
“Like it?” She lets out a soft, incredulous laugh. “I love it.” Her gaze lifts to meet mine, and she smiles—a smile that feels like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky. “Thank you.”
I smile, getting lost in her eyes as she plays with the necklace hanging around her neck. “I always notice how you run your fingers over it when you’re nervous,” I say and lean in. “Am I making you nervous, Davina?”
“Oh, please,” she laughs, flicking a stray strand of hair over her shoulder. “I only fidget with it when I’m trying to hide how much I’m rolling my eyes at you. If you or this gift made me nervous, I’d have to admit that your charm is actually working.”
I grin, tilting my head slightly. “I suppose I should be flattered that I’ve managed to bring out the sassy version of you again.”
She steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. “If you’re trying to make me nervous, you’ll have to do better than that.”
I grab her by the waist and spin her around, pulling her body flush against mine. She gasps, caught off guard. Her breath hitches as I brush her hair to the side and fasten the necklace around her neck, the clasp clicking into place.
My hand moves deliberately, trailing from the back of her neck to her shoulders, then tracing her collarbone. I let my hand drift upward, caressing the smooth line of her throat before my fingers close around it.
She shivers, the reaction unmistakable, and I can’t help but let a slow, satisfied smile curve my lips. “How’s that for making you nervous?”
She catches my gaze in the mirror’s reflection, and I let my fingers linger on her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch. I lean in slightly, letting my breath tickle her ear. “I can definitely feel that I’m getting under your skin,” I murmur. “And if I’m not mistaken, it looks like I’ve managed to make you blush a little.”
She suddenly spins around, pushing against my chest with surprising strength to shove me onto the bed.
Before I can react, she’s straddling my lap, her eyes blazing with challenge. “Nice try,” she says, her lips curving into a triumphant smile as she shifts on my lap. “But I’m not that easily flustered.”
I laugh softly, my hands instinctively finding her hips, afraid that if I don’t touch her, she might disappear. “I don’t know,” I reply, gazing up at her. “You seemed pretty caught off guard a moment ago.”
She leans down, her crimson hair creating a curtain around our faces. “And you seemed pretty confident,” she counters. “But now look where you are.”
I smirk, my fingers tracing slow circles on her waist. “I am right where I want to be.”
“Think you’re so smooth, don’t you? Well, two can play that game.” Her fingers trace a slow, teasing path down my chest, and she leans in closer, her lips just inches from mine.
I can’t help but shiver under her touch.
Cupping her face gently, I pull her even closer until our lips are almost touching. “You’ve definitely got my attention,” I whisper, my voice low and thick with unspoken desire. “This is much more interesting.”
She’s intoxicating, and I can feel the control slipping from my grasp. I let out a shaky breath as she presses down slightly, her hips grinding against mine.
“Let’s see just how far under my skin you can get,” she teases, her eyes locked onto mine, daring me to make the next move.
I let my eyes wander across her face, absorbing every delicate detail. She isn’t just pretty. She’s otherworldly and soft, in a very dangerous way. This girl possesses the rare ability to both shatter me and heal me in the same breath.
My heart pounds in my chest as every part of me fights the urge to kiss her. I want to, but if she falls into the slumber like I’m suspecting, I’ll be left with nothing but a bittersweet memory of her lips. I’ll be left with nothing but the memory of what could have been.
If she— no . I force the thought from my mind, pushing the haunting possibility away.
My eyes remain fixed on her, unable to look away, and I shake my head in disbelief. “I can’t get over how beautiful you are. It’s astonishing—” My words are caught in my throat as I realize that no description could ever truly capture the way she makes me feel; like I’m standing on the edge of something vast and unknown, something that could either save me or destroy me completely.
My resolve weakens as she shifts her weight, the friction between us sending sparks of pleasure up my spine. I swallow hard, trying to maintain some semblance of control, but it’s a losing battle. Her presence is overwhelming, her very being drawing me deeper into a haze of want.
That addictive scent of her envelops me, like being wrapped in freshly laundered cotton.
“God, you smell like heaven?—”
“You don’t know what heaven smells like.”
“But I know that when I’m with you, it feels like I’ve found a piece of it.”
Brown eyes bore into mine, warm and searching. “Is that all you’ve got?”
I shake my head again, as if trying to clear away the fog she’s cast over me. “Honestly? I’ve got nothing,” I confess, my voice a mere whisper now. “You’ve disarmed me completely.”
Her gaze softens just a fraction, but there’s still that spark of challenge in her eyes. “So, you’re telling me that you’re at a loss?”
I nod slowly. “Yes, you’ve got me so twisted up that I can’t even pretend to have the right words.” I let my thumb brush across her bottom lip, her lips parting slightly under my fingertips. “All I know is that every time I look at you, I’m left with nothing but the feeling of being entirely undone.”
Her breath catches, and for a fleeting moment, her confidence falters, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability. Her eyes flutter briefly, as if savoring the touch, and before they open again, they’re full of a mixture of uncertainty and yearning.
I let my thumb linger for a moment, tracing the soft curve of her lip. She bites her lower lip gently, as if contemplating whether to speak or remain silent.
The moment stretches between us, filled with the tension of unspoken words and shared breaths.
“You have a way with words,” she says, her voice trembling just slightly. “And with touches, apparently.”
“Only for you, darling. I wouldn’t waste this on anyone else.” I let my thumb graze her lip one last time before pulling back just enough to let the space between us breathe.
She studies me, her gaze intense yet soft, as if she’s trying to decipher whether my words hold weight or if they’re merely the flattery of the moment. “Should I feel particularly special then?”
“Feel special?” I gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “You are special.”
“Is that supposed to be romantic?”
“It’s supposed to be the truth.”
“Well…” A nervous laugh escapes her. “I didn’t expect to get such a compliment today. I was just hoping for a decent conversation, Your Highness.”
“A decent conversation?” I raise an eyebrow. “I’d say you’re deserving of much more than that.”
She suddenly looks away, her eyes searching the space around us as if seeking refuge from my gaze. I notice the subtle shift in her posture, a sign that she’s struggling with something unspoken.
It’s clear she’s wrestling with her emotions.
“Don’t look away,” I say softly, catching her gaze again. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”
She sighs. “I never know if you’re teasing me or not.”
“Believe me,” I reply earnestly, “I’m always telling the truth, even when it sounds like teasing.”
“So you really want to know what’s going through my mind at this very moment?”
“I want you to tell me something real.”
“The truth is…” she swallows, her gaze flickering to the side.
“It’s fine,” I tell her, offering her an out. “You don’t have to tell me if?—”
“I’m scared. Scared of what this,” she gestures between us, “means. Scared of getting too close and losing myself in it.”