Chapter 18
“I want you close.”
My breath hitched at the simple honesty of it, my nerves reaching new heights.
“Close?” I echoed, barely above a whisper.
“For protection… it’s safer that way,” he said quickly. But the way his voice faltered told a far different story, and I caught the faintest trace of color on his cheeks as he looked away, suddenly awkward.
I couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at my lips. I found it unexpectedly endearing, which wasn’t a word I ever thought I would use to describe someone like him.
“Speaking of which, we should probably get some sleep,” he said, standing and brushing off the dry leaves and debris from his clothes. Then he came over to me, offering his hand.
I took it, feeling that familiar tingling spark at his touch now he was without his gloves, my scars singing to the connection like always.
But as the blanket around my shoulders began to slip, he reached out quickly with both hands to catch it.
Pulling it back up, he did so with enough force that I had to take a step into him.
The sudden motion brought me closer, until the blanket was snug again around my shoulders.
In the soft glow of the fire, beneath a sky scattered with a thousand stars, I looked up at him and the world seemed to stand still for us.
The foolish, aching part of me that fed on this impossible attraction wanted to beg him to kiss me.
And by the look in his eyes, I wasn’t sure he wasn’t fighting the same thought.
His grip tightened once more on the blanket before he finally released it, stepping back as he cleared his throat a little too briskly.
He had found his reason not to act on it, and I couldn’t help the faint sting of disappointment that followed.
Straightening his posture, he gestured toward the tent, his tone a touch higher than before as he said,
“Shall we?”
So, I did the only thing I could. I nodded and walked toward the tent, wishing, not for the first time, that we were entering it under very different circumstances.
The tent was surprisingly spacious. My gaze fell on the small battery-powered light in the corner, its dull glow reflecting off the waterproof walls.
Doing its job to brighten the interior just enough for our shadows to dance faintly against the fabric.
Unfortunately, it didn’t warm the space at all, and the chill in the air seemed reluctant to leave.
I took in the sleeping arrangement for a second time, having glanced in here before we sat to eat. One large mat lay in the center with a neat spread of blankets and a narrow gap between them.
“I am sorry it is not bigger,” he said, coming up behind me as though sensing my hesitation.
“Er, that’s alright,” I replied, suddenly feeling shy. I sat down and started removing my boots, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he did the same. But then he began to remove his armor next, starting with the long cloak and the thick doublet beneath the black plates.
“That looks like a lot of work,” I commented, making him scoff quietly.
“Even more work changing my own bandages from injuries I would surely sustain if it was missing,” he said pointedly. Well, I guess he had a point there. I mean, I could have done with some armor years ago.
I busied myself fussing with the blankets, deciding to forgo the pajamas I’d foolishly packed.
There was little point to them now. But as he continued undressing, I couldn’t help sneaking a glance, then another, and one last one where I nearly forgot to breathe.
Especially when I caught sight of the slither of muscle revealed as he twisted at the waist to unbuckle his sword belt.
The faint ripple of abs as his black shirt rose slightly drew my eyes and held them hostage. Shame crept up my neck when the sound of him clearing his throat made me realize that he had caught me staring.
Thankfully, he decided to leave the shirt on, because I was fairly certain that if he hadn’t, my brain would have melted right out of my nostrils. That one exposed line of tanned skin was already enough to make my thoughts stray dangerously.
And then there were his arms, bare now and bulging with muscles strong enough to squeeze me to death.
Sunkissed skin marked with striking red tattoos that seemed to shimmer faintly in the low light.
The intricate symbols wound along his skin in patterns that tugged at my memory, and I found myself wondering if I had seen them before.
Maybe in that book he’d given me.
I lay down, rolling over and facing the other way just to hide my blush as I listened to him settle into his space beside me.
A chill ran through me again and I pulled the blanket higher, but it was no use, the shivering trembled through my whole body until my teeth began to chatter.
I was mortified when he asked, “Are you cold?”
I might have snapped, duh, no shit, Sherlock, had this been asked a few days ago, when I was still in full bitch mode toward him.
But considering I liked him now, I managed a lame, “I’ll be fine, I just need this blanket to start doing its job, that’s all.”
“And if it doesn’t, what’s your plan then?” he asked in a cocky tone.
“Set myself alight?” I joked, making him scoff, but before I could process it, I felt him roll closer.
In the next breath, his warmth enveloped me as his arms gathered me up and pulled me close. Then he put both blankets over us, doubling up on the layers. Not that it was needed as his instant warmth made me nearly sigh in pleasure. Something I would have done had I not forgotten how to breathe.
My whole body tensed, which must have prompted him to murmur, “Relax, just let me hold you and I’ll keep you warm.”
“You’re not wrong there, you’re like a furnace… how the hell are you so warm anyway?” I asked. He was hotter than fire itself, as though molten lava ran through his veins. I felt the rumble of his quiet laughter against my back, and with every breath he took, I felt it ripple through me.
“I tend to run hotter than your people,” he said.
“What… were you a fire-breathing dragon in your past life?” I teased, earning another deep laugh from him.
“Something like that… anyway, at least you’re not shivering anymore,” he said, making me scoff.
“Yeah, I’ll say. I want to crawl into your skin… okay, so admittedly, that sounded less weird in my head.”
His laughter took on a softer tone before it lowered further, sounding deep and rough against my ear.
“Quit being cute, Alexandra, and go to sleep.”
I couldn’t help but smile, feeling his words warm me deeper than his body ever could. Though, if I was being honest, that wasn’t entirely true. Not after catching a glimpse of the body beneath all that armor.
Naturally, sleep didn’t come easily, and soon he must have realized it.
“I swear I can hear your brain turning,” he said, his voice a sleepy rumble. “What are you thinking about now?” he asked in feign annoyance. I could hear the undertone of amusement there too.
“What do your tattoos mean?” I asked, plucking at a random one of the many questions I had stored away.
“They’re not tattoos,” he told me with nothing more to add like I hoped. Silence stretched between us as I waited for him to explain, but when he didn’t, I refused to let it go.
“They look like tattoos.” More silence. I nudged him lightly with my elbow, feeling solid muscle that had me swallowing hard. Jesus, didn’t this guy have any soft spots? “Well, if they’re not tattoos, then what are they?”
“They’re a part of me. Now go to sleep.”
I huffed, annoyed that he wouldn’t give me more.
Time passed and, though exhaustion weighed me down, I couldn’t fall asleep.
Not with his body pressed so closely to mine.
My heart pounded twice as hard and twice as fast, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he could feel it…
or hear it in the forest’s eerie stillness.
“Are you awake?” I asked after some time, my voice coming out louder than intended, and I winced when his sigh of frustration brushed my ear.
“It’s hard not to be when you keep talking. Go to sleep.”
He pulled his arm from around my stomach, as if he was about to roll over and let the cold flood back in.
Instinctively, I reached for him, my hand aching for that warmth again, before I reminded myself that this wasn’t Riley.
Still, I wanted it. I craved it. The safety, the comfort, the knowledge that if I gave in to sleep, he’d be there to protect me.
“I can’t sleep,” I whispered, reaching back until my fingers brushed his. He tensed, but I caught his hand anyway and pulled it back around me, holding it in place.
“Try,” he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against my hair.
“I can’t,” I admitted, though I bit back the rest of the truth, that it was because of him.
“Go to sleep, or I’ll make you,” he warned, his tone threaded with teasing humor and empty threat.
I huffed and muttered under my breath, “I’d like to see you try.”
He gave a low laugh, then countered, “I don’t have to make you sleep, I just have to gag you so I can get some of my own.” The way he exaggerated the word gag made me tense all over again.
“What now?” he asked when I sighed loudly. I could practically hear his eyes rolling.
“Have you ever done this before?”
“What? Sleep outside with a cold female in my arms? No, have you?” he remarked wryly making me grin.
“Quit teasing me. I mean… just the two of us, in a tent?”
“I think I would have remembered that. Now ask me if I would prefer a bed,” he teased again, despite my light chastising for him not to. His reply made me grin just as much as it made me blush.
A low rumble of laughter came from deep in his chest, vibrating against my back.
“I am teasing you,” he admitted.
“I know, although a bed does sound pretty great right about now.”
“That it does,” he agreed, and I wondered if he meant with me in it. Of course, I bit my tongue and refrained from asking that part.
“Do you snore?” I asked, making him scoff.
“A king doesn’t snore.”
I laughed, jerking closer in response. “Yeah right, next you’ll tell me you shit rainbows and barf unicorn tears.”
He must have tossed his head back as he laughed, because it was a full, rich sound, a true belly laugh that made me practically vibrate in his arms.
“I’ll tell you what, funny girl, why don’t you tell me in the morning if I snore or not, and I’ll do the same.”
I huffed. “I don’t snore!” I argued, making him scoff another chuckle before leaning close and whispering in my ear.
“Well, we’ll see in the morning, won’t we? But before that, we’d actually have to indulge in the art of sleeping. Here, let me show you how it’s done.”
I rolled my eyes despite the grin that wouldn’t leave me because who knew that Atlas was pretty funny when he wanted to be.
“I think we’ve established that I can’t sleep.”
After this, all witty response fled him and instead his voice took on the kind of softness that one would consider reserved for a lover.
“Then perhaps we should have sweet dreams together,” he offered on a whisper that stole my breath. But because I knew we were about to walk a dangerous line should I let us, I instead forced a laugh and a joke.
“Your room or mine?” I teased, knowing this was definitely crossing into the realm of flirting.
“Whichever has the biggest bed,” he returned, making me smile in the soft glow of the lamp. One he reached out to turn off, no doubt to make his point.
I was just about to come back with something witty when he leaned over and brushed a gentle kiss against my cheek, stealing the breath from my lungs once again.
Then he whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect those dreams of yours. So, hush now, and get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“What’s tomorrow?” I asked, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me tighter, his voice a deep rumble against my ear.
“Good night, Alexandra.”
“Good night, Atlas,” I replied softly in the dark.
I felt him draw me even closer, as if hearing his name from my lips meant something to him.
But then again…
It meant something to me too.