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A flash burn swept across his skin, and a deep shiver ripped through him as his heart exploded into a wild gallop. What he really wanted was to be somewhere alone with Erus, preferably on a flat surface without clothes.
“We…we should talk.” Or something.
“Okay.” Erus’ lips whispered over the jumping vein in his neck. “What would you like to discuss?”
Orrin spoke nineteen languages with native fluency, including three that had been lost to time. Yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say in any of them.
His head spun, and every inch of him trembled as his cock swelled and throbbed within his trousers. Though aware of their audience, he couldn’t bring himself to care, let alone stop.
By the fae, he hadn’t acted so undignified since…well, maybe ever. Restraint and propriety had been impressed upon him for as long as he could remember, even as a child. Right then, with his mate pressed against him, and Erus’ scent filling his head, he had command over neither.
“Perhaps you want to have a conversation somewhere more private?” Erus suggested.
Private? Yes. But the things he wanted to do required little to no conversation. Since he couldn’t say that, he dipped his head jerkily and hoped Erus understood.
“Words, my sweet prince.” Lifting his head, Erus met his gaze, his expression filled with an intoxicating mixture of desire and adoration. “Tell me what you want.”
Not accustomed to asking for what he wanted, or even being allowed to want something for himself, it took several tries for him to force the words out. “You,” he finally croaked, his voice thick with need. “I want you.”
Chapter Three
Erus felt no guilt at leaving the four Guardians kneeling in the cold as he guided the prince up the stairs to the entrance of the castle. If not for his kindhearted mate, he would have incinerated them. In exchange for their lives, a few hours of discomfort seemed a small price to pay.
The moment they crossed over the threshold and into the warmth of the lobby, Orrin commanded his full attention, chasing away any lingering thoughts of the males. Pulling him to a stop just inside the doors, Erus lowered the sapphire hood to get his first proper look at the elf.
A few snowflakes still clung to his long lashes, and his cheeks and nose were rosy from the cold, made more pronounced against his fair complexion. Glossy hair as white as the snow fell over his shoulders, stopping just beneath his sternum. Six to eight inches shorter than him, with a slight build, Orrin exuded grace and beauty by doing nothing more than breathing.
It was his eyes, though, that held Erus captive. Pale gray like the dawn, with tiny flecks of golden brown around the pupil, they gleamed in the overhead lights. It was true the eyes were the windows to the soul, and from what Erus could see, his prince had one of the purest souls he had ever encountered.
Brushing Orrin’s silky hair away from his face, he reached up to cradle his cheek, frowning when he found the skin still cool to the touch. “Are you cold?”
“I’m warming up. I’ll be okay.”
His lips hadn’t yet turned blue, but they were much paler than they should have been, and they trembled when he spoke. Erus didn’t like it. While no elf had ever died of old age, they could die. The multitudes that roamed the Underworld were proof of that.
Lifting his head, he glanced around the lobby, searching for a fireplace, and surprised when he didn’t find one. The proverbial halls had been decked with lighted evergreens, tinsel, garland, wreathes, and hundreds of glittery baubles, and while pretty, they didn’t help him.
A sitting area with oversized sofas and deep, squat armchairs occupied an area in the center of the room. In the middle of the furniture, and directly beneath a chandelier made of magical ice crystals was a small frozen pond. Half a dozen figurines had been bewitched to skate, spin, and jump across the surface. Again, cute, but not exactly useful.
Still, he would have to make do. Leading Orrin over to the pond, he glared at the shifters and faeries seated there.
“Leave.”
Other than a few bored glances, they ignored him and returned to their books or conversations. Annoyed and impatient, he waved his hand, sending them to the banks of the River Acheron in the Underworld. Someone would sort them out eventually and return them to where they belonged. It might take a couple of hours, but they would miss virtually none of their regularly scheduled lives topside.
Orrin stared at him with wide eyes but allowed himself to be steered onto one of the sofas. “You didn’t kill them, did you?”
It had crossed his mind, but he worried it would upset his mate. Clearly, restraint had been the right call. “No. I just…relocated them.”
With another wave of his hand, he replaced the frozen pond with a large bowl made of sparkling ice and filled it with dancing flames. The ornamentation wasn’t strictly necessary, but it seemed polite to stick with the overall theme. Especially since Orrin seemed to enjoy it so much.
Okay, he had only done it because Orrin liked it, but whatever. It still counted.
“Better?”
“It’s beautiful.” Moving to the edge of the cushion, he held his slender hands out toward the fire and sighed. “You really didn’t have to relocate everyone, but this is nice.”
“You don’t like the cold,” he ventured.
