Chapter 157: Little Traitor

It swung silently on hinges that had been recently oiled, moving without resistance, moving without sound. The darkness of her chamber met him like a wall. But his eyes, transformed by his dragon nature, adjusted quickly to the shadows. The moonlight from the window provided just enough light for him to see.

She was sleeping.

Morgana lay in her bed like something carved from marble.

Her chest rose and fell with the steady rhythm of deep sleep. Her hair was spread across the pillows in waves of dark brown, catching the silver light of the moon. Her face was peaceful in a way that he had never seen it before.....no fear, no confusion, no awareness of the danger that stood in her doorway watching her.

She looked small.

That was the first thing that struck him. Despite everything, despite the magic Thorne insisted she possessed, despite all the evidence that she was meant to reshape their world.....she looked impossibly small. Fragile. Like something that might break if touched too roughly.

How could she have magic?

How could this girl, who seemed barely more substantial than a shadow, possibly carry the power that the ancient ones had spoken of? How could she be the answer to a prophecy that had haunted them for two centuries?

But if she was their mate, she could not be entirely human.

Thorne had been clear about that. No human could bind with a dragon king. No mortal could survive the claiming. If she was meant for them, if the prophecy was right, then something about her transcended humanity.

Kaelen moved into the chamber.

His footsteps were silent, the movement of a predator who had learned long ago how to walk without sound. He closed the door behind him quietly, carefully, ensuring that no one passing in the corridors could hear.

He approached her bed slowly.

He bent down to look at her face closely.

This close, he could see the fine details that distance had hidden. The faint freckles across her nose. The curve of her cheekbones. The way her dark eyelashes lay against her skin. The slight parting of her lips as she breathed.

She was beautiful.

Not in the conventional way that the noble daughters of the court were beautiful. Not with the polished perfection that came from years of grooming and preparation and the understanding that beauty was a weapon to be wielded. She was beautiful in a way that seemed almost accidental, as if she had no idea that her face held power.

His hand reached out slowly.

His fingers were trembling slightly as they moved toward her cheek. He told himself to stop. He told himself to turn around and leave this chamber and never return. He told himself that touching her while she slept was a violation, an invasion, a step across a line that he should not cross.

But his hand moved anyway.

His fingers brushed against her cheek.

Her skin was soft, warmer than he expected, alive with something that made his palm tingle with sensation. She made a small sound....a moan that was barely audible but that seemed to reverberate through him like thunder.

Her head turned toward his hand.

And then, in the way of someone who was deeply asleep but responding to touch, she pressed her face against his palm. Her arms came up and wrapped around his hand, pulling it closer, holding it against her face like it was a source of warmth on a cold night.

"Cold..."

Her voice was barely a whisper, the word emerging from somewhere deep in her sleep.

She pulled his hand closer, held it tighter, burrowed her face into his palm like she was searching for something that only he could provide.

Kaelen’s entire body went rigid.

His pale eyes closed for a moment as he struggled to control what was happening to him. His arousal was immediate, overwhelming, impossible to deny. Just from her touch. Just from her holding his hand against her face. Just from the simple act of her seeking warmth from him while she slept.

He looked down at himself in the darkness.

The evidence of his response was undeniable, visible despite the shadows. His pale blue eyes flashed open, burning with the fire of GLACIUS stirring beneath his skin.

"Fuck."

The curse emerged as barely more than a breath, the word carrying all of his frustration and desire and the desperate need to maintain control.

Just the right timing.

He was getting hard just from looking at her. Just from her touch. Just from the proximity and the intimacy and the knowledge that she was his, that she had to be his, that there was no one else in this world meant for him the way she was meant for him.

But he could not act on it.

Draeven’s words echoed in his mind. His own promises....made to himself and to his brothers, hung before him like barriers he could not cross.

He needed to leave.

Carefully, with a tenderness that belied the intensity of his desire, Kaelen reached with his free hand.

He pulled her blanket, the soft cover that provided what little warmth she had, and wrapped it more fully around her body. She released his other hand reluctantly, her fingers trailing away from his palm as if she was reluctant to let go. But even as she released him, her arms came up and wrapped around the blanket instead, hugging it close to her body.

She was seeking warmth.

Not specifically his warmth....just the comfort of something close to her skin, something that held her, something that made her feel less alone in the darkness.

Kaelen looked down at her curled into the blanket, her face peaceful once more, and felt something shift inside his chest.

He bent closer and spoke softly, his words intended only for her sleeping ears:

"Little traitor."

A smile spread across his face....not cruel, but something almost tender. The smile of someone who understood that even in sleep, even without knowing it, she responded to him. That the bond between them was so fundamental, so ancient, that it transcended conscious awareness.

Even unconscious, she knew him.

Even sleeping, she called to him.