In fact, I was fairly certain his snores were what rattled me awake.

That and his warm breath against my cheek, his arm stretched across my abdomen, tucking me into his chest as he interlocked my fingers with his.

Of all the ways I could have returned to consciousness after having a lunatic disembowel me, I supposed this wasn’t the most unpleasant.

It was, however, the most problematic.

Any moment now, someone was bound to waltz through my bedroom door and find the Prince of Dwellen spooning me.

“Evander,” I whispered, my voice dry and crackling from disuse.

He groaned and readjusted, but instead of waking up and scooting away from me like I’d hoped, he roped his arm around my ribcage, pulling me into his warm chest. Maybe it was his fae instinct, but his fingers skirted my injury. Like he knew the boundaries of my wound so well, he could avoid it in his sleep.

The male went so far as to nuzzle his face into my neck.

Heat soothed my sore stomach.

Well, at least he’d stopped snoring.

It was…nice, I supposed. Being held like this. His firm chest pressed against my back, and the weight of his arm left me feeling secure. Safe.

It was so pleasant, in fact, my heavy eyes fluttered. Evander’s breathing slowed again, his inhalations a steady pulse against my spine.

I allowed my eyes to rest. Perhaps I could go back to sleep like this. Then, maybe he’d wake before I did, slip from the bed, and both of us could pretend this never happened.

His thumb brushed my ribcage, and I shuddered. Electricity shot through my body at the subtle caress, and I found I wouldn’t be going back to sleep. Not anytime soon.

Okay, never mind.

Staying like this was a bad, bad, bad idea.

Sure, Evander and I were engaged to be married, but he’d said it himself, hadn’t he?

Unless I’d misinterpreted the context clues of the word celibate growing up, I was fairly sure he had no intention of bedding me once we were married.

Clearly, he’d only been trying to warm me. I’d flitted in and out of consciousness the past few days, and Blaise had been doing the same. I’d never quite been alert enough to communicate with her, but I’d appreciated her sharing her warmth as I’d shivered through my fever.

Blaise had needed a break, and Evander had done what any friend would do.

He fidgeted again, this time adjusting his neck so that his warm lips pressed against the bone behind my ear.

Nope, nope, nope.

“Evander,” I hissed, louder this time.

“Mmm?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He lazily traced his finger over my shoulder.

Then he jolted. “You’re awake.”

Was that embarrassment I sensed in his voice?

I wasn’t quick enough to find out.

“You’re in my bed,” I said. I made to roll over to face him and had to fight back a groan as my stomach twisted, but he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“Easy. Peck’s already had to stitch you up twice. Turns out you’re an active sleeper.”

I couldn’t miss the glimmer of amusement in his tone. Still, I took it slow. Once I was facing him, I tucked my sheets up to my neck and shot him the nastiest glare I could muster.

He’d propped himself on his elbow, his bronze hair disheveled and falling across his brow. “Right. You’re wondering why I’m in your bed. Well, I figured since we only have a few weeks before we’re married, we should take it slow. Wouldn’t want to blow your mind on the wedding night or anything. So I figured we could start with spooning. Then maybe next week I can hold your hand. Oh, wait, we already did that. Excellent. I’m hoping by the wedding, I’ll have you adequately warmed up for a kiss, but—” His words faltered as his gaze dipped to my mouth. I tensed, readying myself for whatever mortifyingly inappropriate innuendo was about to come out of his mouth, but his voice only softened. “It’s really good to see you awake.”

I stiffened, and he smiled, shrugging as he supported his weight on his elbow. He looked more sheepish now, his tanned cheeks slightly tinted. “You had a really nasty fever. Peck was having a hard time breaking it with his drafts. Blaise has been keeping you warm most of the time, but to be honest, she was getting to where she stunk, so she went to bathe and get you some more books.” He rolled his eyes, and I shot him a questioning look. “Oh, don’t tell me I suffered through the Encyclopedia of Glass, and you didn’t hear a word of it.”

I chuckled, which was a mistake, because it hurt like crap to laugh. Evander frowned, having caught my wince. He opened his mouth slightly for a moment, but then he shut it and swallowed. In an instant, the vulnerable expression was gone, replaced by a familiar cocky smirk.

“Well, it seems your fever finally broke.” He pulled down the blankets, gesturing to his shirt. Which happened to be soaked through. Mortification blistered underneath my cheeks. Evander just winked. “It’s okay. You’re cute when you’re sweaty.”

I threw a pillow at him.

The pain that rippled through my stomach and had me choking back a sob was worth it.

Evander visited me what felt like once an hour for the next few days. At first, the castle healer, Peck, a birdlike fae with the looks of a human except for the feathers that covered his skin, put up a good fight against Evander’s visits, claiming that I needed the rest. But eventually Evander won out, as, I assumed, he was fairly used to doing by this point in his life.

I always pretended to be asleep during his visits, which I think was the only thing that kept Peck at bay. It wasn’t that I didn’t want him there by my side. In fact, I relished his company, just knowing that he was sitting next to me in the rocking chair he’d carried up to my bedroom. Sometimes he’d stroke my hand, and I’d try not to let myself tense up as the motion sent a crackling sensation up my arm. I was pretty sure I wasn’t fooling him. Surely, with his fae senses and nothing else in the room to distract him, he could tell that I was faking sleep. But if that was the case, he didn’t push it. Instead, he allowed me to pretend.

Maybe because he knew what I was really avoiding.

Maybe because he wanted to avoid it, too.

If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t want to talk about how the love of my life had just attempted to murder my betrothed.

The more I considered it, and, truly, I had nothing else to consider as I lay in bed all day pretending to be asleep, the more I convinced myself it was her, the more I remembered that flash of envy in her blue eyes and knew, deep down, that she’d tried to murder me because I had taken her prince.

Well, she had taken my shoes, so…

“Ellie.” Evander’s voice summoned me from my irritable thoughts.

I tried not to stir. I wasn’t ready for this conversation yet.

Besides, my stomach still ached, and stirring, rather, moving at all, would have only irritated it further.

“What? Are you just going to pretend you’ve fallen into an eternal slumber?”

“Mm. Peck says I need rest.”