The Warrior King (Inferno Rising #3) - Abigail Owen Page 0,73

around the edge of the water and into a one-room cabin. The place her mother had sent her sister, along with Maul for protection, the night she’d died.

Samael set her on the floor, not standing, but on her backside, because her legs wouldn’t support her anymore. He ran to the fireplace. “We’re in luck. There’s logs.” Then he blew a stream of black-tipped flames over them, igniting them in seconds, the wood popping and hissing a protest at such extreme heat.

Meira knew she needed to get her clothes off, but she couldn’t stop the rattling that was clenching her entire body or force her fingers to work themselves out of the fists they’d spasmed into.

“H-h-how’d I l-l-let you t-talk me into this-s-s?” she chattered.

“Me? I’ve learned to just go along with whatever you want these days.” He turned and caught sight of her trouble with her clothes. “I’ve got you. Come here.” Samael picked her up and stood her in front of the fireplace.

One arm around her waist to support her, he managed to strip her of her clothes. She was so damn cold, she didn’t even think to be embarrassed about her state of undress or how much skin he was witnessing. She only needed to get warm. Then he grabbed a blanket from the single bed that stood pushed up against one wall of the one-room cabin, wrapped it around her, and sat her down facing the fire, as close as he dared.

Behind her, she vaguely recognized the sounds of him undressing. Then he scooted her off to the side. A tiny whimper of protest escaped her, as the distance away from the fire was significantly cooler.

“It’ll be quick,” he assured. Then Samael dragged the mattress off the bed and over to her so that it lay as close to the fire as possible.

He picked her up and set her on her feet. “Sorry, but we need to share body heat right now.”

Before she could wonder what that meant, he unwrapped the blanket from her body, laid her down on the bed, and lay down with her, facing each other, her back to the fire. He covered them both in the blanket, tucking it in and around them tightly, before he wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“You j-j-just wanted to get me n-n-naked,” she teased through chattering teeth.

A pulse of amusement reached her a second before Samael huffed a laugh, his breath teasing her hair, which was already drying, no doubt in a disastrous pouf of chaotic curls. “Not like this.”

“N-n-no?” Warmth was starting to steal through her, thawing first her chest and spreading out from there.

“No. Cold and wet were definitely not part of the fantasy.” She could hear the smile in his voice.

Lovely warmth was curling through her muscles, relaxing each in turn. She inched closer, pressing her cheek to his chest and enjoying the sound of his voice in her ear. “Makes you wonder how mermaids get it on.”

“Or water nymphs,” he murmured.

“Or the kraken.”

That made him snort, and Meira tucked her grin into his chest. Getting him to laugh was turning into a small obsession.

“There’s only one kraken. I don’t think he breeds,” he pointed out.

“Who said anything about breeding? I’m talking about sex. I’m sure even the kraken gets lonely, too.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

Only now that Meira’s body was thawing, her mind was, too, and had glommed on to the question of kraken sex. “I mean, given his size, it could be difficult. He needs someone as big as he is.”

“Seriously, why—”

“A cyclops maybe, though they’re not the most attractive… Of course, the kraken isn’t exactly a runway model. Definitely a face only a mother would love. And the tentacles…” She shuddered. “Everyone deserves love, though.”

“I can’t believe I’m asking, but who said sex and love are the same?”

“Oh heavens…” A giggle escaped her, then another. “Could you imagine the size of his penis?”

“Are we still talking about this?”

He sounded strained, which only sent her further down the rabbit hole of giggles. Meira buried her face in her hands, laughing against him. “Gives a whole new meaning to ‘release the kraken,’ don’t you think?”

He tipped her chin up with one finger, inspecting her face in all seriousness. “Maybe you do have hypothermia and are delirious. Or in shock. We’ve had a lot thrown at us. Should I be worried?”

A statement that should’ve sobered her up, because it wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but didn’t.