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“What did he do to you?” the Mist King repeated in a soft, dangerous voice that curled across me like the mists.
“Make sure she has a bath and a fresh change of clothes. And for the moon’s sake, make sure she eats some fucking bread.”
“How exactly did you expect a conversation to go between a girl and her captor?”
“Could you just stop arguing with me for one moment?”
Suddenly, he whipped off his cloak and draped it across my shoulders.
For one, it had touched him. And two, well, it had touched him.
“Stay out of it,” the Mist King and I both shouted in unison.
“What makes you so sure I’d try something stupid?” “I’ve spent more than five minutes in your presence,” he threw over his shoulder. “That was enough.”
“I understand what you tried to do, even if I don’t like the result of it.”
“Don’t worry,” he said in a low growl. “It would have to kill me before I would let it take you from me.”
“But you will not be using this move against Oberon.”
His eyes darkened even more. “Because I can’t stand the thought of his hands on you.”
“You’re right. I do bite sometimes. But I wouldn’t do it to you. Unless you asked.”
“I’m not lying, love.
“I have never met someone who I felt matched my soul.” She smiled. “That’s a pretty intense requirement, Kalen.”
He smiled. “I love it when you call me that.”
He tugged me toward him, and his lips crashed against mine. I gasped, my toes curling. The heat of him enveloped me, along with the scent of snow and ice. My body melted against him as his mouth explored my lips. The taste of him was intoxicating. Darkness, power, and heat.
