“What are you talking about?”

“You and Baldair.”

Vhalla’s mouth dropped open in shock. “What?”

“I caught you both together last night, your hand in his.” Aldrik drew his height, his body language was imposing.

“My hand in his?” Vhalla balked. “You mean him grabbing my wrist? Him holding me in place so that I’d be forced to witness you and Elecia?” she accused, pointing at the crown prince.

“Elecia?” Aldrik seemed to forget the other woman was even with him the night before.

“Were you even going to tell me?” Vhalla’s lower lip quivered, and she swore she would not lose it, she wouldn’t cry in front of him.

“What does Elecia have to do with this?” Confusion eased his shoulders.

“No.” Vhalla shook her head. “No more, I can’t. I’m done.” She turned, starting for the door.

“Vhalla!” he snapped. “You asked me for no secrets, for the truth, and you’re turning your back on me?” Aldrik chuckled darkly. “The irony of that.”

“The truth?” She stopped, only ten paces from the door. She should just leave. But something made her turn. She stared at him in hopelessness. It would all be better if he’d just admit it. “The truth is ... the truth is ...” Something in her snapped. “The truth is that every time I close my eyes all I see is you and her!” Vhalla’s voice broke halfway through and she threw her arms up in defeat. The tears burned at the corners of her eyes and she sniffed, keeping them at bay.

“Why?” Aldrik took a step toward her.

“Because—you know why!” Was he really going to make her say it?

“Why would you care about Elecia if you desire my brother?” His voice was losing its edge, his probing becoming more exploratory over jabbing.

“Aldrik,” Vhalla covered her eyes with her palm. “You are a fool.” She gave him a defeated laugh. “I don’t want your brother, my dear Prince Aldrik C. Solaris. Not every creature with breasts thinks Prince Baldair is a god among men.”

“Then why, why do you care?” He took another step closer. Vhalla opened her mouth and shut it, turning for the door. “Tell me, why does Elecia matter?” Aldrik grabbed her elbow, stopping her from fleeing from the room.

“What does she matter?” Vhalla wasn’t sure if she had ever met a man who could be so astonishingly smart about seemingly everything and yet so daft about the person whom he was supposed to be more connected with than anyone in the world. She twisted to face him, tearing her arm from his grasp. “She matters the same as titles do. The same as my birth and yours does. The same way it matters why your brother insists on tormenting me with awful stories about you.”

“Stop avoiding my question!” he demanded.

“I am not!” The last of her resolve shattered and her control slipped away. Tears were going to fall at any moment, and if the two of them were going to break they may as well shatter. “I love you, Aldrik!”

Her voice echoed on the shockwaves that shook them both. Vhalla’s palm clamped over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it, and Vhalla stared at him wide eyed. She watched his face closely. She witnessed the words settle in on him, the shock that started in his eyes, raised his eyebrows, and dropped his mouth open.

Vhalla’s heart raced, and she felt a soft whimper rise in her throat. She wanted him to say something, anything. If he would pass judgment she could leave and finally move on from all he was. She could leave his ink black hair and dark eyes behind. She could let his voice fade away from her dreams and let his form no longer haunt her in the daylight.

Aldrik’s mouth closed. He swallowed hard.

Vhalla couldn’t tolerate the silence any longer, and she grabbed for the door handle as though it was her only lifeline. She would walk away now, and let it all stay broken.

The prince had other plans, and he grabbed for her.

“Aldrik wh—” She half turned, and he spun her the rest of the way.

His hands released her arms and cupped her cheeks in a single fluid motion. Vhalla had only a half a second to register his face closing in on hers. She inhaled sharply at the shock of feeling his lips on her own. His scent, his breathing, the warmth of his palms, the feeling of his mouth, all assaulted her senses and Vhalla closed her eyes, leaning into the kiss.

VHALLA SIGHED SOFTLY, her mouth still gloriously occupied with his. Something audibly clicked back into place, and suddenly her head silenced the noise of the past few months. His palms were hot on her cheeks, and they stayed the tears that had so insistently found their way out seconds before. She felt him pull away slightly, but Vhalla pressed forward, stealing one more moment of his lips. Her eyes opened and met his. Despite being the initiator of the kiss, he looked as bewildered as she.

Still holding her face, Aldrik sighed softly and leaned forward to press his forehead against hers, their noses barely touching. “Say it again ...”

Vhalla closed her eyes. “I love you, Aldrik.” Saying it out loud, to him, sent sparks up her chest.

He pulled her face back to his, claiming her mouth again fiercely. Vhalla’s hands found their own life, meeting his fervor. They pressed against his chest, her palms running up to his shoulders. Vhalla buried her fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck, itching to unravel his pristine visage. Her nails ran against his scalp, and his hands dropped from her face to her waist.

Aldrik pulled her closer and her arms bent. She felt her hips meet his, and her chest brush against the warm length of his body. Vhalla shivered—and he held her tighter. She broke the kiss for a moment, taking a shaky breath. Just as she opened her eyes, his mouth was on hers again and he annihilated her every thought with just his taste and touch.

The time that passed between them wasn’t nearly enough before she felt his neck push against her fingers and his lips pull away from hers. Vhalla resigned as gracefully as possible, barely restraining herself from clutching him and holding his mouth to hers forever.

Aldrik stared down in bewildered adoration; she’d never seen a flush to his cheeks before, but now it was a soft rosy color that looked almost healthy on the natural pallor of his skin. His lips parted and he breathed heavily. A hand shifted from her waist back to her face, and he stroked her cheek with his fingertips.

“Aldrik,” she whispered, her lips aflame. She still felt inebriated on his nearness; however, without the immediate distraction of his mouth, confusion began to slip back into her brain. “What about Elecia?” she whispered—just the name made the happy bubbles in her stomach settle.

“Come,” Aldrik said, taking her hands in his as he led her back to the couch. This time she sat next to him. “Who do you think Elecia is?”

“I don’t know.” Vhalla didn’t want to play guessing games, and her theories on Elecia ran as long as the Great Imperial Way. Thankfully, Aldrik didn’t drag her along.

“Elecia is my cousin.”

“What?” Vhalla asked on a quick inhale of air.

A knowing grin curled up the corners of his mouth at her obvious shock. “My mother, as I’m sure you know, was a Western princess. When the West was overthrown, her father was removed from his throne as king. But in an effort for a peaceful transition, his eldest son—my Uncle Ophain—was appointed as the Lord of the West. My uncle had a son who later married a Northern woman and had a daughter.”

“Elecia?” Vhalla whispered, wide-eyed, mentally following along. It explained everything about the woman. Her appearance, her demeanor, her protectiveness of Aldrik, Vhalla understood it all.

Aldrik nodded. “She was born when I was seven. We made a trip back to the West not long after but she was only a toddler. I didn’t know her well until we were adults,” he continued.