he asked.
“Yes.”
He turned around then.
A strong concoction of embarrassment and wonder stirred up inside her chest. It was the first time since meeting him that looking him in the eye was the easier option.
The Darkling’s body was nearly as perfect as his face. Despite his slight build, his baggy white linen shirt at the inn and the tunic he’d stolen from Sinclair’s burly guard hadn’t done his outline any justice. His toned torso and arms were easily those of a farmer’s son—or perhaps, a trained soldier, as Kestrel had said. Whether his god-like exquisiteness was a familial trait or had stemmed from his Darkling transformation, Lilac wasn’t sure.
Simply, Garin was devastating.
“The tunic’s probably not clean as you’d like, but at least we don’t perspire like humans do.” Snowflakes did pirouettes across his unnatural eyes, but he withheld his grin.
“I don’t need it to sleep or stay warm. I mean,” he added, “if you are comfortable with that. I figured you would sleep better this way while your dresses dried.”
Absently, she hugged her body underneath the fabric. The earthy-ethereal aromas of the vampire intertwined once again within her lungs, this time enveloping her whole. She let the towel drop to the ground from under the tunic, then held his shirt to her chest to keep from gaping as she bent over to retrieve it.
“Bed’s yours.” He scooted past her to get to her sack and proceeded to retrieve the bundle of wet clothes. As he flicked each of the dresses out to dust them, a small box clattered out of the second one, flipping several rotations midair before bouncing across the floor and landing right beside the bed.
To her surprise, Garin didn’t race her for the box when she walked over to grab it. His nostrils merely flared, eyes narrowing. “Gunpowder?”
“Matches,” Lilac replied, swallowing her surprise.
“Yet, you didn’t bother to bring a torch. Nor, a candle.” He grinned teasingly. “Just how did you expected that to work?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, blushing and looking away to formulate her answer. “Thinking back, the moonlight did the trick just fine—but initially, I chose not to bring a lantern because I didn’t want it to become some beacon for Darklings to find me.”
“Well, you certainly didn’t need a torch to attract us.”
Rolling her eyes, Lilac shoved the vampire aside gently with her hip, along with his strange inquiry. She nestled the small box back into her sack, suddenly wondering if he’d brought it up to make her less uncomfortable.
“I don’t know, I… I like fire. Not for its destructive nature, of course,” she quickly added at Garin’s look of alarm. “It emits this remarkable display of ever-changing light. It chases the shadows away. Sometimes I feel like, in a way, it’s what my kingdom expects of me. And I can’t very well do that while I am part of the darkness they fear, now can I?”
She stopped talking, face flushed. It all sounded so trite now that she had said it out loud. The heat from the fireplace seemed to be sucked into the frigid night before it could reach her; she shivered involuntarily, wrapping her arms around her chest.
She sucked in a breath and finally looked back up at Garin.
His eyebrow arched expectantly. “Well then. While I am not sure my lowly Darkling opinion matters to you in the slightest, Your Highness,” he said matter-of-factly. “Most rulers care only about their own riches, and political advance for selfish gain. The townsfolk would be foolish to overlook this zealous determination you wield… to overlook your resolve to lead them well. You are half inferno and half storm. The kingdom should consider itself fortunate to have you.”
Quick as it arrived, all mirth in his eyes disappeared, only to be replaced by a smoldering darkness. Garin hooked a finger under her chin, urging her to match his gaze. “And, as for attempting to avoid Darklings, not even a woman of royalty can skirt fate. Regardless of how hard she tries.”
No force on earth could have slowed the princess’s pulse. Her instincts should have urged her to run from him. This time, his aroma was overwhelming. Welcoming. Eyes fixed on his mouth, she tilted her head up to press her lips against his—
And just like that, Garin was on the opposite side of the tub, clutching her bundle of dresses to his chest. “I’d best get to cleaning these off for you,” he said breathlessly. Jaw clenched, he methodically set the ball of material into the sudsy