Awakening in His Arms

Was it sleep that claimed me?

Or had I fainted?

Gasping for air, Nefetia’s eyes fluttered open, and the first thing she registered was that she was cradled in Arkin’s arms.

The two massive arms, thick as tree trunks, and the powerful thighs that could have matched the width of her waist, told the whole story. He had pulled her in with his entire body, holding her close in a way that left no doubt.

Smothered…! The sheer weight of Arkin pressing down on her made Nefetia wheeze and straighten her posture, squirming like a fish out of water.

Finally she managed to slip only her nose and lips above his forearm and let out a long, shaky breath. At last the air trickled back into her lungs.

Outside, the night was still pitch black. There was still time. Nefetia pushed herself up and settled beside the prince’s head, where he slept soundly.

She reached out and brushed the hair from his forehead, tracing the strong arch of his eyebrows. The golden lashes clinging to his closed eyelids trembled once, then stilled. Watching him, a quiet, satisfied smile curved her lips.

Her hand slid down the long, straight bridge of his nose and brushed his cheek, but her gaze stayed locked on his mouth.

Despite the fragile beauty of his features, the way he looked fragile melted away the moment his expression settled into something elegant and resolute. Perhaps it was those lips.

Perfect. Not too full, not too thin. Nefetia lost herself for a moment and reached out to touch them. The moment her fingers grazed the warm, soft skin of the prince’s lips, heat exploded through her.

Everything that had happened only moments ago came rushing back.

Arkin had done that… to her, with his mouth.

Recalling every detail made her cheeks burn. The whole thing had been strange and overwhelming, but one image burned itself into memory longer than all the rest.

The moment Arkin had lifted her hips high, arched like a crab, eyes wide and locked on hers.

That perfectly disciplined Arkin Seilir—gone, replaced by a hazy, desperate look as he pinned her waist and explored without a shred of restraint.

She shivered. Just thinking about it made her head spin.

Everything—lips, nose, everything—had been soaked when she finally pushed him away. Strange, almost too much, but so incredibly good.

And… that too.

Nefetia’s gaze drifted lower. Arkin’s thigh was still positioned perfectly as he slept like a well-behaved gentleman, his length resting quietly between her legs like a faithful servant.

How strange. She shifted closer and studied him again. It had been iron-hard and burning hot moments ago, yet now it was soft and peaceful.

She reached out and gave the thick length a light tap. The softer texture made her want to press harder. She stroked the smooth skin, lifted it to check its weight, and even brushed the dense, rounded sack beneath.

Her hand wouldn’t stop moving. Arkin’s body began to stir. The head rose slightly.

Her eyes widened. This big thing was already reacting…

She swallowed and watched, hiding her fascination.

That sensation when this massive length pushed inside her—still vivid, like white flashes of pleasure. The way he had filled her so completely, as if the whole world had narrowed to just the two of them, locked together in ecstasy.

Again… just once more.

“Only once.”

They had both drawn the line, yet…

She wanted to feel that fierce wave of pleasure one more time. Wanted to see Arkin lose control again, the way he had looked helpless when she touched him.

At that moment the pleasure had been too overwhelming; she hadn’t been able to think straight.

With a heavy sigh she withdrew her hand.

Arkin remained completely still, as if he had fallen into deep winter sleep. He looked like a man who could sleep through an entire month at once. It was a pity, but Nefetia decided to let him rest a little longer.

She needed the rest. He needed it.

Once more she stroked the tip of his half-erect length, then crawled back into his arms, maneuvering his limp arms and legs until she was pressed tight against the hot expanse of his chest.

She wanted to stay here as long as possible.

Even though they had both sweated profusely, the prince’s chest still carried that warm, comforting scent she loved. When she rubbed her cheek against his skin, warmth flooded her. She couldn’t hold back. She pressed her lips to his chest once, then pulled away.

…Puck!

A sudden wave of embarrassment made her face heat. She kissed him again. A soft smack.

Her heart thumped wildly, her mind buzzing with delight.

…Hehe. Her heart wouldn’t stop racing; the foolish, happy laugh slipped out before she could stop it. She felt like she might burst from the overwhelming emotion.

Arkin didn’t wake, even with her teasing. That gave Nefetia free rein. She placed kiss after kiss across his chest, then finally sat up and cupped his cheeks with both hands.

Arkin had said only once today…

How could she possibly be satisfied with only once when this felt so wonderful? Could she ever share such moments with any man other than Arkin again? The thought was absurd. Not even worth considering.

“I won’t give up, Arkin. You’re my Hetasept.”

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead, whispering the words she had never said so openly before. “No one else can replace you. You are my fated partner. I will never let you go. Never…”

In the dim gray light of early dawn, Zafiri stirred on the bed. He realized it was still the middle of the night and blinked in confusion.

He wasn’t a heavy sleeper, but tonight the dream had been utterly chaotic. Not uncomfortable, just… not pleasant.

Why? Wondering, he sat up slowly on the bed and then stood.

As he walked to the window and gently pushed the shutters open, a thick, intoxicating floral scent slammed into him like a wave.

What…?

It wasn’t just the seasonal bloom of flowers. It was an invisible, overwhelming fragrance that wrapped around him as if he had stepped into a shower of petals.

Frowning, Zafiri stared into the dark. In the blackness he saw a cluster of glowing lights—fireflies, maybe—yet there were far too many.

He reached through the narrow window and felt along the outer wall for the familiar vines that should have been climbing there. The ones meant to reach his bedroom…

…What?

Zafiri yanked his hand back in shock and took a step away, then cautiously reached out again.

How was this possible?

His fingers met the familiar tendrils immediately. They curled around them as usual. But these… had they grown this much? And the grip on his fingers was stronger than ever.

He needed to check for himself. Zafiri shrugged off his tunic, dashed out into the corridor, and slipped through the door without a sound. Barefoot, he ran down the hall at full speed. The long brown hair scattered behind him, yet not a single footstep echoed in the darkness. The prince of the vines moved like a shadow through the forest.

Swiftly he circled the building and approached the wall where the bedroom window was. To his astonishment, the entire white exterior of the residence had been completely covered by thick, newly grown vines overnight.

“How…?”

Zafiri examined the wall in bewilderment. What? When was the last time he had seen it? Even thinking about it, his memory only went back a day or two at most. Yesterday there had been only a few slender vines. Just enough to reach his and Arkin’s windows.

They had grown an entire night’s worth?

His gaze drifted toward the garden beyond the darkness. He had been watching the flowers bloom through the night, but now they looked even more extravagant. He scratched his chin anxiously. Last night they hadn’t been this many.

Everywhere he looked, the air was heavy with scent and the garden blazed with color. The earth and every plant above it seemed to pour out vitality as if trying to exhaust every ounce of life force. Flowers bloomed wildly, as though the trees and grass had absorbed every color of the world.

Swarm after swarm of fireflies, their tails trailing faint light, danced around the dazed prince.

After standing there for a long time, Zafiri finally pulled himself together and turned back to the wall. He reached out to the writhing green vines that pulsed with life and drew a deep breath.

“Spirit of Ivica, tell me. I need to know what has happened on this island…”