Page 53 of Destiny of a King

Only three logs remained in the basket beside the hearth.

He fed them to the fire one at a time, watching as small flames slowly licked at the dry wood. It would be enough until morning.

As he turned away, his gaze settled on Adira. She had drawn herself into a tight ball beneath the blanket. Even in sleep she trembled.

A scowl briefly crossed his face as he crossed the room. He rested the back of his fingers lightly against her hand.

Cold. Far colder than it should have been.

He glanced toward the fire. The room would warm again… eventually. But she was cold now. He stood there longer than he should have.

Finally, with a quiet sigh born more of resignation than desire, he pulled off his boots, moved his sword beside the bed where his hand could reach it in an instant, then he slipped beneath the blanket. The mattress shifted beneath his weight.

Careful not to wake her, he eased an arm around her waist and drew her gently against him.

She stirred.

For one uncertain heartbeat he thought she might wake.

Instead, her chest rose and fell in a soft sigh, then she nestled closer, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered.

Her trembling eased. Only then did he allow himself to relax.

Only until she was warm, he told himself, then he would return to the chair.

Outside, the winter wind rattled the window. Inside, the warmth of the fire slowly spread through the room.

His eyes grew heavy.

The last thing he remembered was the steady rise and fall of Adira’s breathing against his chest before sleep claimed him.

Shouts broke through his sleep, disturbing his pleasant warmth. He would see someone in the castle reprimanded for this.

A deafening blow rattled the door, and Dravic’s eyes flew open. He was not home in Caerith Castle, he was in an inn. He came instantly alert, though for one brief moment he did not move. Warmth rested against him.

Adira.

She lay asleep in his arms, her cheek against his chest, the blanket tucked securely around them both.

Another blow struck the door.

“My king!”

The familiar call reached him just as the wooden latch gave way.

The door burst inward. Two of his elite guards stormed into the room with swords drawn, prepared to defend their king. They stopped as if rooted to the floor.

The room fell deathly silent.

Dravic needed no explanation for the astonishment written plainly across their faces. They saw exactly what he saw.

The king of Scotara in bed, holding the young woman the kingdom believed to be his servant.

The tremor in the room had awakened Adira. She lifted her head, confusion clouding her face. Her gaze moved to the doorway where two-armed strangers stood motionless. Before she could make sense of it, she became aware of the arm around her.

She looked down, then slowly up at the king. Worry immediately settled in her eyes.

Dravic withdrew his arm and sat up, never taking his eyes from the guards.