“Lila,” he’d said, and she’d expected him to chastise her, to order her back to the palace, but he’d only caught her by the arm and said, “Be careful.” Tipped his forehead against hers and added, almost too low to be heard, “Please.” She’d seen so many versions of him in the past few hours. The broken boy. The grieving brother. The determined prince. This Kell was none of those and all of them, and when he kissed her, she tasted pain and fear and desperate hope.
