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“That’s all I’ve hidden,” he admits, and somehow, that makes it worse.
Because that means every well-toned muscle, every inch of his beautifully bronzed and tattooed chest, every brilliantly white and charming smile he’s offered me – they’re allhim. It was easier to deny my attraction when I felt he was someone else.
My fingers crawl up to the edge of his mask, his hand still wrapped around them, but his grip loosens. “It has to go,” I command.
He tugs me closer, my boots knocking against his. He inhales deeply, then nods.
I gently peel his mask up, and as I do, magic sparkles. My heart hammers as I realize his illusion was attached to the mask, and I steady myself as I pull it completely free. My eyes widen. My lips part in awe.
His eyes are not gray, not even close. They’reeverycolor. An infinite galaxy staring into my soul. Colors swirl and sparkle in his irises, his dark pupils ringed with a sliver of starlight.
I run my thumb under his left eye, and I can’t help but be mesmerized. His eyes aremorethan eyes. They swim with possibilities, desires, wishes. If I were to stare long enough, I would drown in them, floating from one reality to the next.
His mouth twists and his eyes squeeze shut.
“No,” I whisper.
His lids flash open at my protest, and I once again fall endlessly.
“Is it magic?” I wonder.
He gently takes his mask out of my hand.
I frown as he does. “What are you doing?”
“It’s too dangerous for me to leave my mask off. I’m sorry.” He places it across his forehead, about to pull it down into place, but I shake my head.
“I thought you wanted a kiss,” I say, despite the war erupting in my heart.
The Prince grins at that, then dips down to my ear. “Oh Zora, I want so much more than that.”
“Is that so?” I breathe as he pulls back and snares me with his infinite gaze.
He manages a tense nod.
“And if I were to give you more?” I ask before I can stop myself. Although, I’m not sure I want to stop. In fact, the fluttering feeling in my stomach is totally down with more than a kiss.
His lips lightly part in shock, but he reels his expression in. “I won’t ask you for more.”
I move my fingers down his cheek, and he leans into my palm with a tired look. “Why not?”
“Zora,” he says, each syllable of my name like a prayer on his lips.
Andfuck, I like that. I drag my hand down to his chest, swishing my index finger around some of his tattoos. One of them right above his heart stands out to me more than the others, and my fingers trace its strange shape over and over.
His breath hitches, and his hand folds over mine, clutching me against his heart.
“You’re almost out of time,” I tell him, finding a piece of my defiance remaining.
He lifts a hand and cups my face, drawing me onto my toes as he leans down. He hesitates, his throat bobbing. “I don’t know,” he suddenly admits.
“You don’t know what?” I ask, my lips nearly brushing his.
His forehead knocks against mine, and his expression turns pained. “I don’t know if I can survive you, Zora Vyner.”
I lean back, a smirk gracing my lips. I take his chin in my hand. “Don’t worry,” I tell him, and my smirk grows into a smile, “no one survives me. That’s how I like it.”
“Hmm.” He grins, and while that sound of his annoyed me before, now it makes my fingers wrap in his hair.
