CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Something warm and foreign brushed the back of my neck. I jerked away, my eyes flying open in alarm.
Thomas sat before me, eyes incredulous, face inches away from mine. Instead of the cool damp of the dungeon, soft silk met my fingers.
His cool breath tickled as it caressed my neck. My cheek prickled with lingering warmth. He must have just kissed me.
I squinted at the bright light beaming through the windows, barely making out his fuzzy form and the soft blankets that covered me.
“You’re alright,” I said in a raspy voice.
“Me?” Deep circles rested under his eyes, his glasses askew. His face was heavy with heartbreak and exhaustion in a way I’d never seen. “You’re alright. I feared…”
I stilled.
I’m alright.
The world tilted for the briefest of seconds.
And then I remembered: the spinning spool, the prince-turned-frog, Lee Blackwood, the end of the thread whipping out of my hands…
I lifted up trembling fingers. Large, angry red divots marked my palms atop the scars I’d earned from my blacksmithing apprenticeship.
I swallowed. “How?”
“You’ve been asleep for two weeks. I…” He wiped his cheek as a tear slipped down. A sharp pang shot through me. “I thought you were gone,” he continued.
He leaned down so his forehead rested on my abdomen. I ran my hand over his scalp, through his short hair, anchoring myself in the feeling of its prickle against my fingers, in the spark in my chest from touching the prince so intimately.
A prince I hadn’t touched like this in a year and a half, although I’d dreamed of doing so every day since then.
He rose back to a seat, more composed. “You’re awake now.”
“Yes,” I whispered, my breath shaky. A small smile twitched at my lips. “I’m awake.”
“When I turned back into a human, you slumped over. Your heart had stopped. I couldn’t get you to…” he trailed off.
I reached out and grabbed his hand. His fingers curled around mine.
“So I tried to restart your heart.”
“With magic?”
He shook his head. “Magic can’t bring back a passed soul. I pounded your chest and breathed air into your lungs in that dungeon and screamed for help…”
“And it worked?” My head was fuzzy, the events still whirling around, begging to be placed in order.
“It took longer than I thought. I’ve never—” He took a shuddering breath.
“I’ve never manually restarted someone’s heart before.
And I had almost given up when you gasped for breath and your eyes fluttered open.
” His hand trembled in mine. “But your body was so weak… I knew I didn’t have long before… ”
“You brought me back.”
He stared past me, as though caught in memory. “I didn’t know what to do, so I put you in a restorative sleep.”
“Like with Asha.”
He nodded. “So your thread could find its way back and respool. And I’ve been watching your recovery closely. If you had woken up, your heart would have failed again without the magic needed to sustain it. I put you in a sleep so deep that I… I was scared you would never wake up again.”
I leaned my head back against the headboard. I eyed his mussed hair, the normally-pristine clothes that looked as if they hadn’t been changed in weeks. If he’d been monitoring me, managing my recovery, he would be drained of magic himself.
“You saved me.”
He shifted in his seat. “I, well, you saved me as well. It’s only fair.”
I took a deep breath at his words, questions still pressing on my mind. “And is that why you saved me?”
“No, well.” He adjusted his glasses with his free hand. “That was part of it. But not all of it.”
My stomach fluttered.
“When I was a frog, you said some things no one has ever said to me. Things I never expected a girl like you to tell me.”
“A girl like me?” I lifted a brow.
His eyes widened. “No, not like that. Not…”
“I’m teasing,” I said. “I know you don’t mean it that way. At least, now I know it. I... I read the last letter you sent me.”
His cheeks reddened. “I meant that letter.” He cleared his throat. “And I just want to know… did you mean what you said? When I was a frog?”
My own cheeks grew warm as memories of my final words came flooding back. I love you, flaws and all. And a whole lot more.
“I did,” I said.
His brows furrowed, awe flickering across his face. He moved his hand to my cheek. “You love me?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “You cannot—I didn’t think—”
“Oh Thomas,” I said, interrupting his thoughts. I flung my arms around him, pulling him close. I pressed my head to his chest, his heartbeat wild in his ribcage, mirroring my own as he leaned over me on the bed.
When I finally pulled back, his eyes scanned mine.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“You’re more beautiful every time I see you.”
My face broke into a grin. “I suppose there’s a benefit to being honest about one’s feelings.”
I bit my lip, and his eyes caught the movement. My heart skipped a beat as he leaned forward again, one hand tipping my chin up so I looked directly into his face. His warm breath tickled my skin.
“I have one request,’ I murmured.
“Anything.”
I licked my lips. “Would you kiss me?”
He tilted my chin, ever so slightly, and leaned forward, pressing his mouth to mine.
And despite the years between us, the time spent apart without a word, I was transported back to that night at the pond, when all the world stood still as I wrapped myself in his embrace, and knew for certain what I wanted out of life.
I wanted him.
Fire scorched my heart, my breath catching as he kissed me like I might slip away again.
He pulled back. “Lyra, you need rest.”
“I need you,” I said, tugging his shirt so his mouth graced mine once more.
He was gentler now, his soft palm brushing my cheek. He rested his forehead on mine. “Please, Lyra,” he murmured. “Rest for me. We can talk more when you wake again.”
My limbs were already heavy on the bed, my eyes fluttering shut as his fingers combed my hair.
And this time, for once, I didn’t argue with him.