Page 77 of This Prince Is Not Charming

She pointed at the ground. “Don’t those look like arrows to you? I saw them while we were dancing, and I remembered Morton’s words. I thought maybe they were leading us to something.”

I stepped out of the darkness, glancing at the floor and seeing what looked like arrowhead imprints. “Those have been here since the castle was built,” I said, turning. “This was actually one part of the tour I paid attention to. Apparently, it was the Fair Folk who built this castle for Fairwitch, and Fairwitch wanted nothing but perfection.” I came to a stand next to Ceri, studying the arrowhead pattern that trailed right up to the statue. “Apparently, Fairwitch had just killed the Fair Folk queen, one that Fairwitch had declared as illegitimate. The Fair Folk were angry and had no way of fighting back. Except this.”

She raised a thick blond brow. “An arrowhead?”

“They chiseled them into the marble, knowing the imperfections would anger Fairwitch. If you look close enough, these types of errors are all over the castle. Little mistakes like one wall painted a different color than the rest or a stained-glass window that’s upside down.” I gestured to the arrowheads. “Or these.”

“Oh.” Ceri’s brows furrowed. “I thought maybe I was onto something. That I’d seen a clue.”

I turned her and gently pushed her against the ledge of the alcove where the statue sat. “And here I was thinking that maybe you wanted to get me alone.”

She met my gaze, and a fire ignited in my belly at the way her mahogany eyes flashed. “And why would you think that?”

“I was trying to tell you something before you went on your quest, and I think you know what.”

“How would I know?” She raised her chin, challenging and stubborn. She wasn’t going to make this easy on me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know you. And you know me. I think we might know each other better than anyone. And something was different tonight. Between us. Tell me you felt it too.”

She stayed silent, just watching, waiting, and I knew it was time.

“I love you, Ceri. I’ve loved you probably my whole life, and I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t. It’s been killing me. Literally.”

Her eyes welled with tears.

“I should’ve told you sooner, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I thought I was being selfless by not admitting my true feelings. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship at first and then, well, I thought with me being high prince, it would be far too complicated.”

She burst out into tears, and I stiffened.

Fuck. “You don’t have to return my feelings. I will always be here for you no matter what.” I grabbed her shoulders, rubbing gently. “Nothing will change. I promise.”

She took a few heaving breaths, and I swallowed thickly. I’d keep my promise, but that didn’t mean this wouldn’t hurt worse than anything I’d felt before. I’d read this situation completely wrong. She didn’t return my feelings, and I’d just complicated everything—exactly like I was afraid I would.

“Ceri, it’s going to be okay. Let’s just get back to the dance floor and forget⁠—”

Before I could finish, her mouth crashed into mine.

I stiffened at first, wondering if I was dreaming this, if I should pinch myself in case this wasn’t real. But then her mouth was pushing mine open, and I sprang back to life. She moaned, the sound undoing me as I wrapped my arms around her and brought her flush against my body.

“Fuck, Ceri,” I murmured against her lips.

“In case it wasn’t abundantly clear, I love you too, Cillian Wolfgang.”

That did it. I lost every bit of self-control I had hearing those words. I kissed her hard, a lifetime of pent-up want coursing through me as I devoured this woman with my mouth, showed her exactly how much I wanted her. Loved her. Possessed her as much as she possessed me.

Our tongues tangled, and I pushed my hands up through her curly hair like I’d wanted to do so many fucking times over the years. Godwitches, she was intoxicating. If only I’d realized I didn’t need to numb my feelings—I needed to let them out. That if I let myself feel the right feelings, that would make everything else so much more manageable. This was better than any drug could ever be.

This was real, and it was mine.

Ceri pulled back. “Cillian, should we slow down, maybe? Talk first?”

“No.” I grabbed her waist and pushed her against the ledge of the alcove. “We’ve done enough talking. That’s all we’ve done our entire lives, and quite frankly, I want to do something else with my mouth right now.”

She let out a laugh of disbelief as I let my hand trail down her stomach, bunching up her dress and slipping it between her thighs.

She gasped, a delicious shudder running through her.

I bent forward, lowering my voice. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of touching you like this?”