Page 30 of The Crown of the Dark Prince
Clay had lived through an unspeakable amount of pain in his life, typically at the hands of his own father. He’d watched the Dragon murder his mother when he was just a boy, and now he had to watch his father continuously find new ways to torment me. He did what he could to protect me, but there was only so much that even he could do.
The trials were one of those things he hadn’t been able to protect me from.
But the trials were over
And Iwasokay.
“Do people know you’re here?” I asked softly, my mind returning to the consequences of this moment.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, but the tension in his voice betrayed him.
“I do though,” I said, thinking back to the Dragon’s threats.
“I won’t let him hurt you again,” he vowed, pulling back to meet my eyes. The veins around his neck darkened, and his golden gaze burned with intensity. “You need to trust me on that.”
I traced the veins with my fingers, watching as they faded under my touch. His expression softened, but his words still hung heavy in the air.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He looked away. “I took a couple of the palace tunnels to get into this wing. The nurses know I’ve been spending time in here while you’ve been sick, though. Word has spread.”
Panic flared in me, and I tried to pull back, but his grip tightened.
“Don’t,” he said firmly, holding me even closer to him. “Don’t you dare tell me I should’ve been anywhere else. I know exactly where I should be—right here, with you. There’s no version of this life where I wouldn’t have been by your side, waiting to see you open your eyes again.”
His declaration stole the breath from my lungs, filling me with warmth and dread in equal measure.
“Clay, you can’t say that to me.”
“I know that, Thea.” He ran a hand through his hair haphazardly. “Gods, I know I can’t say that. I know I can’t even think it or feel it. I know very well that I can’t crave you as much as I do, but...”
His voice trailed off as he met my gaze, as his eyes lowered to my lips.
My body was humming.All aches and pains were long ago forgotten. All I could think about now was how close he was standing to me, how much he smelt like cinnamon, how warm his fingers were against the back of my neck.
“But?” I whispered, sounding as needy as I felt.
The air was thick, tension coiling in the space between us, charging the air so intensely that nothing else seemed to matter.
Clay lifted his gaze from my lips, locking eyes with me again, staring so deeply that I wondered if he could see my soul.
“Fuck it.”
He moved suddenly, taking hold of my face, pulling, and swallowing my words with the press of his lips against mine.
Gods.
Every thought, every concern, every fear was gone.
Clayton Vail was kissing me.
My body ignited with the feel of him until every part of me was singing and acutely aware of the places his fingers met my skin. His tongue darted over the purple bruise that lingered on my lower lip, soothing it with his gentleness, and I sighed against him, unable to stop myself from arching into his firm grasp. I fisted my palms into his shirt, not caring if I wrinkled his finely tailored black jacket.
He groaned into my mouth, the sound sending fresh heat through my fevered body as his hands snaked back to the nape of my neck to pull me closer to him, and I went willingly.
“I almost lost you,” he whispered, pulling away to trail his lips across my jaw before pressing scorching kisses against the length of my throat. I arched, letting him support my weight when my weak knees couldn’t do so on their own.
“I’m right here,” I promised him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
