Rebel Spring (Falling Kingdoms #2)(67)

She shook her head. “That’s impossible. I don’t know how to do that. You think I can help save the world?”

His expression grew troubled. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you this. Not yet. She’ll be angry with me, but—but you have a right to know.”

“Who are you speaking about? Your friend Phaedra? The one who interrupted us before?”

He shook his head. “No. Someone else. Tell no one of what I’ve said to you, princess. And trust no one—no one—not even those you feel are worthy of your trust.

“Alexius . . .” His expression was so full of anguish, so full of passion . . . and all of it seemed to be directed at her.

“I wasn’t supposed to feel anything for you,” he whispered, drawing her closer. She couldn’t look away from him. “When I watched you from afar, I had that distance. That objectivity. I lack that now.”

Lucia could barely breathe as she watched him, her skin heating where he touched her.

“You have become very important to me,” he continued haltingly, “more important than I dare admit even to myself. I never understood how an immortal could fall in love with a mortal. It wasn’t logical. I thought them fools to give up eternity for a handful of years in the mortal world with the one who held their heart captive. I don’t think that anymore. There are some mortals who are worth sacrificing eternity for.”

The fire in her cheeks went forgotten. She found she was stepping closer, so close, to him.

“I should never visit your dreams again,” he said, pain crossing his face. “There are dangers ahead that you cannot fathom. But, no . . . there must be other ways to get what is needed. And if there are, I will find them. I swear this to you.”

She had no idea what he was talking about now, only that he had admitted that he was falling in love with her. Hadn’t he? “Yes, you should visit my dreams. You can’t leave me now. You’re important to me too, Alexius. I—I need you in my life.”

That anguish remained in his dark silver eyes. So incredibly intense. So filled with the answers she needed to questions that she hadn’t even asked. And then he cupped her face in his hands and bent to brush his lips against hers.

Perhaps he’d meant it as a chaste kiss, but it quickly became anything but. His hands slid down to her waist and he crushed her against him, deepening the kiss. She touched his face, his chin, and slid her fingers into his hair. He tasted like nectar, spiced honey . . . sweet and addictive. She wanted more. Her hands moved to the ties of his shirt, pulling them free to bare his chest. He had a mark, a glowing swirl of gold, over his heart. “What is this?”

“A sign of what I am.”

So beautiful. He was so beautiful that she never wanted to wake up. She wanted to be with him forever.

“I love you, Alexius,” she whispered against his lips. He tensed at her words, and she very nearly regretted letting them escape, but then his mouth was on hers again, hard and demanding, stealing both her breath and her heart. . . .

And then darkness spread across the meadow, obliterating it from view and sweeping Alexius away from her.

A cry caught in her throat.

Lucia slowly opened her eyes to find herself in a large, canopied bed, under soft, white silk sheets. Her gaze was fixed upon a flickering candle on her bedside table.

A strange and unfamiliar ache gripped her heart.

Alexius.

A young girl wearing a plain gray dress dozed in a nearby chair. After a moment, her eyes popped open and then widened. “Your highness . . . you’re awake!”

“Water,” Lucia managed to say.

The girl scurried to get water. “I must inform the king immediately.”

“Not yet. Please, give me a moment before you do anything of the sort.”

Of course, the girl obeyed. She brought water, which Lucia drank only after a short hesitation. Then the girl fetched fruit, cheese, and bread.

“Two months,” Lucia whispered with dismay when she asked how long she’d been asleep. “How have I survived so long?”

“You’ve been able to accept a specially prepared drink that has sustained you,” the girl explained. “The healers said it was a small miracle.”

Yes, a miracle. One that enabled her mother to administer the potion that kept her asleep. A tremor of anger coursed through her and the drinking glass she held shattered.

“Princess!” the servant girl cried out, clearly horrified that she’d injured herself, as she began picking up the sharp pieces of glass.

Lucia looked down at her bleeding hand, cocking her head as she considered the stinging wound. The King of Blood was her father. Did that make her the Princess of Blood? Her blood was so bright red it very nearly glowed.

Drops of crimson fell to the crisp white sheets. The girl quickly bound her hand with a cloth.

Lucia pushed her away. “It’s nothing.”

“I’ll get some fresh sheets.”

Lucia regarded her. “Don’t look so scared. Like I said, it’s nothing.”

She unwound the bandage and concentrated on her cut flesh. Her hand began to glow with a beautiful, warm golden light. A moment later, her wound was completely healed.

Her mother had been wrong about her. She wasn’t evil. This wasn’t evil. Using her elementia, especially after such a long absence, felt right. It felt good.