The Cursed Kingdom

FIVE

~ COLD SPARKS ~

It felt as if I was lying against the hearth of a fire, whose flames gently licked at my skin and caused a layer of unwelcome sweat to cover my body.

As I found consciousness despite my many attempts to ignore it, I groaned out loud in protest at the awkwardness of my position, my one arm pinched between my body and the mattress, but decided that I was still too tired to move. My limbs were much too heavy to do just about anything and my skull felt like it'd been stuffed with cotton overnight.

I lied there like that, uncomfortable and sweltering, for another minute until the sensation of my nose being pressed against the pillow at an odd angle became too much.

I attempted to push myself up and discovered that there was something in my way, causing me to scrunch my eyebrows together as my foggy brain, which could hardly remember my own name, tried to process the heavy object keeping me from moving. After I tried repeating the motion with the same outcome, I frustratedly pried my eyelids apart to determine the culprit that had disturbed my peace

I let out a startled gasp, one thankfully not loud enough to wake him, when I looked over my shoulder and saw Henrik's face right next to mine, his aquiline nose nearly brushing my cheek.

With one bulky arm thrown over my waist above the covers and the other supporting my neck, whose hand resting under my mark was too close to my breasts to be considered acceptable, Henrik's front was pressed up against my backside with not a centimeter of space between us. Pink mouth slightly ajar as it released small puffs of breath, dark eyelashes fluttering against his high cheekbones, and his hair a mess on top of his head, the king looked as serene and innocent as a newborn infant. However, that didn't stop the pounding of my heart or the fear I felt for him and my desire to sleep was suddenly overpowered by my need to run as far away from him as possible.

I moved my leg towards the edge of the bed subtly and released my arm from under the bed covers. From there, I tried using my free hand to gently lift his arm from on top of me and shrieked when I heard a growl in my ear, the vibrations tickling the sensitive skin. In any other circumstances, I would've burst into a fit of giggles from the sensation. Instead I went silent with fear.

"No," he muttered without opening his eyes and swatted my hand away to maneuver his arm back where it was originally, only this time a lot firmer. He sighed and I felt him relax against me once more.

"Yes," I hissed back and dug my nails into his forearm, trying to pull the limb off of me. It didn't budge, not even a little, and he chuckled at my failure.

"I am the king. You must do as I say," he groaned and rolled over on top of me and brought me with him so that I was now lying completely on my stomach. He sighed in content and nuzzled his nose in my hair, making my face scrunch up in disgust and confusion.

He began to snore.

"Get off of me! What are you even doing here?" I asked, my words cut short deliberately so he could hear my anger. I let out my own version of a growl and tried to do a push up position to get him off. Like his arm, the rest of him didn't budge.

"This is my room," he replied, his voice muffled by my hair. "Where else would you have me go?"

"Don't you have a throne somewhere you could sit on?"

"I do. But you'll find that a throne entirely made out of gold is not that comfortable," Henrik uttered, his fingers fluttering as soft as butterfly wings along my mark and upper collarbone.

I bit my lip, trying to suppress how weirdly good it felt.

I cleared my throat, remembering who I was but most important who he was. "Ah, yes, how unfortunate of you," I drawled sarcastically. I could've sworn I felt him smile against my neck but that could've been my imagination. "Ok, I'm done," I remarked towards his weight on top of me, and tried to wiggle myself free of him, moving every inch of my body like a worm in hopes that I would somehow get free.