Royal Renegade

Chapter 37: Too Far

Princess Axelia

A frigid breeze against my face brings me into consciousness. Opening my eyes, I face the dull embers of a fire close to being put out by its ashes. The drop in temperature has numbed my nose and hands, so I'm grateful Leonidas allowed me to sleep beside him. I thought it would be weird, or uncomfortable, but as soon as he wrapped me in his arms I fell asleep.

He feels so secure.

With a sigh, I glance at the dagger resting loosely in the palm of one of my frosty, ash-bitten hands. The blade is as soft as his feather was. I wonder when I'll have the opportunity to try it out. I doubt Maynard will be up for a match with the tension between us. Even though he's always been more loyal to me than to my father, he was really upset about my choice to stay with Leonidas.

He doesn't know how I feel about the Prince.

Sure, I told Leonidas I wanted to get to know him better before professing love, but if I let everything else go-- I know it is love that I feel when I'm with him.

My cheeks warm at the thought.

Despite our past and all my prior attempts to murder him, Leonidas has treated me with utmost respect, patience, and grace.

He didn't even get upset about how he came to find out about Herakles' proposal or for the way I lashed out at him in my anger yesterday. I think he would have let me shove that dagger into his heart if he believed I really wanted him dead. Yet, even in that, he chose to believe better of me.

His wings would have taken my head if he didn't.

Holding my breath, I turn under one of his arms so I can face him and the motion doesn't seem to stir him like in the past. His chest continues to gently rise and fall with his soft breaths, and his eyebrows occasionally furrow. There is a slight part of his rose-pink lips and for the first time I notice a faint sprinkle of freckles on his cheekbones.

How?

How can someone this genuine and handsome; a Prince, fall for me? He doesn't want power, money, or my father's favor.

He just wants me.

But I'm an absolute mess who most definitely doesn't deserve him.

My gaze lowers at the thought, which gives me an opportunity to admire his chiseled, bare chest-- perky little nipples and the 6-grid of lightly defined abs beneath. Nesting under his ribs is a cluster of pink and tan blotches forming a scar where we removed the arrow from his body. He is fair-skinned but not as pale as I would imagine a ghost, drawing attention to the colors of his healing wounds. Thin veins crawl through his skin as he stirs in his sleep, darkening at his wrists, forearms and neck.

I follow their trail up to his cheeks just as his eyes begin to open. He blinks a few times before meeting my gaze. "Are you watching me sleep?" he mumbles. I struggle to fight back a grin as I nod, and he exhales a hard sigh through his nose. "I hope I didn't drool."

Choking on air is becoming second-nature to me. I didn't expect that would be a worry of his.

"N-no," I laugh, "there is no drool."

His mouth shrugs in a downward motion before he smirks. "I wish I could say the same for you, Princess, but--"

What!?

I sit up so fast that it makes me light-headed but that doesn't stop me from ferociously rubbing the sleeves of my shirt against my chin.

Rolling onto his back, he sets an arm over his stomach as he laughs. "I'm just kidding," he manages to share between chuckles. "Although you were staring so hard it would've been flattering."