And he’d told her he loved her.
Magnus Damora loved her.
She couldn’t help but smile then—a scared, nervous, but hopeful smile.
He looked so different when he slept. Younger. Peaceful. Beautiful. She tried to memorize every line and every angle of her dark prince’s face.
He slowly opened his eyes, and in an instant his gaze was locked with hers. He furrowed his brow.
“Princess . . .”
“You know,” she began, “I really think you should start calling me Cleo now, exclusively. Proper royal titles are so . . . yesterday.”
The serious look remained in his eyes, but his lips curved up to a cautious smile. “You think so, do you? Hmm. I’m not sure I like it. Cleo. So short, so . . . cheerful. And it’s what Nic calls you.”
“It is my name.”
“No, your name is Cleiona. A goddess’s name shouldn’t ever be shortened.”
“I’m not a goddess.”
His smile grew, and he stroked the hair back from her face. “It is encouraging that you haven’t run away from here yet, away from me.”
“I haven’t, have I?” She brushed her lips against his, dizzy from the knowledge—both sweet and scary—of how she felt about him. She hadn’t even realized the truth of these feelings until she’d spoken them aloud last night. But this was real—realer than any emotion she’d ever felt.
“Wait,” she gasped and sat up, pulling the blanket around her. “Magnus . . . it’s light out.”
He sought her mouth again, his fingers tangling in her hair. “Light, yes . . . much, much better than darkness. I adore light—it allows me to see you completely.”
“No, Magnus . . .” She pointed at the window. “It’s dawn. It’s tomorrow.”
His expression tightened and tensed, then he swore under his breath. “How long were we asleep?”
“From the looks of it, far too long. Lord Gareth’s castle is only a few miles from here, and if they’ve sent more guards out to search for me . . .” She turned a bleak look on him. “We need to get out of here.”
“You’re absolutely right. We’ll have to put this very important discussion about what I shall call you now on hold.”
“Yes, right after we discuss what to do about Amara and your father.”
“One thing at a time.” As soon as Cleo mentioned his father, his expression again grew strained. “We’ll go to Ravencrest, find a ship bound for Auranos. Put distance between us and the king. Lord Gareth couldn’t possibly agree with my father’s latest decision.”
“Knowing his sniveling, devious son, that’s debatable.”
“Excellent point.”
“But I do know people in Auranos,” Cleo said. “Nobles and diplomats still loyal to my father and to me. They could help us.”
“Me, begging for help from Auranian nobles?” He raised a brow. “Shall we argue about this later?”
She couldn’t help but smile. “Fine, later.”
When they were dressed, Magnus touched her arm. “I want you to have something.”
She turned to him and saw that he held the earth Kindred out to her. Her gaze snapped to his. “I was afraid to ask if you still had it.”
“This belongs to you.” He put it in her hand and closed her fingers over it. “I have no claim on it.” He nodded firmly before she could say anything in reply. “Let’s go.”
She slipped the orb into the pocket of her cloak as he pushed open the door. . . .