Grace Baldwin

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“You’re freezing,” he said, his voice sounding worried. “Is the cloak not helping?” “Doesn’t seem so.” “Hmm.” Without another word, he pushed up from the chair and climbed into the bed. Alarm jolted through me, making me forget about the cold for a moment. “What are you doing?” I tried to squirm away from him, but he curved a strong arm over my body and pulled me against his chest. My heart nearly stopped. The warmth of him seeped into my bones, chasing the cold away. “I’m making sure you’re warm,” he said gruffly.
Of Mist and Shadow (The Mist King, #1)
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