Loving a Prince Charming - By Danielle Monsch Page 0,17

distance to the next town.

“Should we keep watch?” he asked as he got the fire going.

Kira shook her head. “I’ve set up an alarm system to tell us if a wandering creature comes by. As for the other-” Her mouth turned down enough it resembled an ‘n’. He didn’t think it was possible for a mouth to do that naturally. “What good would alarms do against magic? The only hope is that my birthmark warns us again.”

She didn’t look at the little mark on her wrist, but he could see the effort it took not to. Since the encounter with the fey, he often saw her touching the birthmark, poking at it as if she expected it to jump at her in return.

He hated how it was consuming her. This small mark didn’t define her – it never had and it wouldn’t now. All her talents, her fire-forged will and brilliant mind, none of them hinged around this collection of black lines.

Seth wrapped his hand around her wrist, the birthmark now obscured by his hand. “I have every faith in you, mark or not.”

She exhaled, her body relaxing under his touch. With her free hand she traced the veins in his hand, following the faint blue lines where they led.

The fire crackled beside them, the smell of the burning wood wafting in the air. Firelight suited Kira’s red hair and pale skin and made her seem to glow from within.

Where her fingertips trailed, his skin heated. He flipped his wrist to trap her hand with his, but it didn’t stop the warmth from where skin met skin.

She leaned into him, nuzzled the sensitive skin between his below his ear. Her breath was as warm as the rest of her as it caressed his skin.

And then there it was, the smallest brush of her lips.

She touched him, and it rushed through him, the truth he had been ruthless in suppressing. He wanted her. He longed for her, reached towards her like a flower seeking the sun. There was no one in his world for him except her.

Her lips were chapped, and the small roughness sensitized him, made him aware of every inch of her skin as it lay against his. She fit nicely against him, two puzzle pieces that clicked together.

His arms came up to wrap around her back-

When we’re married, I’ll take you on a picnic…

Seth grabbed her upper arms and shoved Kira away. Avoiding her wide green eyes and the betrayal within, Seth turned away to unload the horses.

It had never been awkward between them, ever, not until this moment.

They were on opposite sides of the fire. Seth’s dark hair took on a faint reddish hue, and his blue eyes were suspiciously bright, brighter than the light alone could account for.

She huddled deeper into the blanket. It was a mistake. She wanted one brush against him, one tiny touch to keep in her heart. She wouldn’t lie to herself. There was nothing innocent in her actions, and he had known that, just like he knew everything.

“Kira.”

His voice was low but forceful, and she obeyed, her eyes coming to rest on his face.

Seth was looking into the fire. His lips were a thin, determined line and his eyes were narrowed, but there was an awkward slope to his shoulders, his body curling around himself. They were going to have a discussion, and he hated it.

Whatever it was, she’d endure. What could he do? Make her love him and then turn around and marry another woman? She bit down on her lip to stop the inappropriate snort.

He picked up a twig and tossed it into the fire before he shifted to look at her. “I’ve met Rosamund.”

His words hit her like a glancing blow—hard enough to push her off balance but not enough for her to tumble down. “What are you talking about? We’ve never met her.” Her tone was firm. Was strong. Because she was right, and his words now were some sort of joke.

He ducked his head, rubbed the back of his neck. He wouldn’t look at her; instead, his head canted sideways, observing into the distance as though he decided to take up a watch after all. “It was right before my thirteenth birthday. Do you remember? We got lost in Mathias’s castle in that weird room.”

A shiver hit Kira’s nape hard and zinged down every individual nerve in her back. She’d hated that dark room. Nothing had felt right once they’d entered that wing. Seth had kept