Claimed by the vampire prince Chapter 157

Circe and Nieah had almost reached the main entrance, pausing when they saw Rowen standing by the foyer. But he wasn’t alone, Ragnar was there too.

Rowen must have heard them approaching because the very next second, he turned and glanced at Circe. Ragnar followed his line of sight and the mont their gazes t, her traitorous heart gave another sudden lurch.

It wasn’t just the sight of him that evoked such a reaction, it was the way he was looking at her, the way a simple stare from him seem to set her mind alight with mories of what it had felt like to be held in those strong arms and how willing she had been as he ravished her mouth.

Would it always be like this? Would she always be reminded of that night whenever she looked at him?

If so then she didn’t think she would be able to handle the continuous way he always drifted into her space whenever she was too distracted to push him away.

" Prince Ragnar is here." Rowen said unhelpfully as he pointed out the obvious.

Circe pursed her lips, worried that Ragnar might have seen sothing on her face that he shouldn’t.

" Yes, I can see that." She responded.

Ragnar still hadn’t averted his gaze. Slowly, he reached into his coat and withdrew sothing from within its folds.

Circe barely caught a glimpse of it before he was already holding it out to Rowen.

Her brother hesitated for a mont, then reached forward and took it carefully from Ragnar’s hand. He lifted it slightly, turning it in his hand and that was when Circe finally saw what it was.

A small wooden soldier, finely carved and painted in the royal colors of House Valdris.

The craftsmanship was simple yet it was filled with quiet aning, and Circe felt sothing stir in her chest as she watched Rowen’s eyes light up in wonder.

A hard lump ford in her throat. She knew how much it would an to him — sothing that reminded him of ho — and the fact that Ragnar had been the one to give it only deepened the ache in her chest.

"What is this?" she asked, surprised at how steady her voice sounded.

"It’s a gift, princess. One your brother seems to like very much," Ragnar replied. His tone was calm, but the words did little to explain why he would do sothing like this, especially after everything that had passed between their two kingdoms.

Rowen seed to realize himself again then. He might have grown close to Kostia and Casilo, but like Circe, he still carried his own quiet wariness when it ca to Ragnar.

He looked up at her, the carved soldier held tightly in his small hands, his eyes silently pleading to keep it. Circe could already tell that even if she asked him to return it, he would cling to it all the sa.

She let out a soft sigh and gave a small nod. The motion felt heavier than it should have. Sothing shifted in the air between them — she couldn’t tell if it broke in her or in him. All she knew was that one mont Ragnar was handing Rowen the soldier, and the next, he was striding straight toward her. She didn’t even get the chance to see Rowen’s bright, excited smile, Ragnar’s broad shoulders had already blocked him from view.

She looked to her right and found that Nieah was no longer standing beside her.

Circe’s eyes narrowed slightly. How hadn’t she noticed Nieah’s absence until now? Nieah by her side was supposed to act as a buffer between her and Ragnar, a shield of so sort but it still wasn’t clear in whose benefit it would be in, his or hers.

It was that she was afraid to be near him alone, it was that she knew what it was like to be kissed by him and she knew how easily it could happen again. Regardless, she would be having a word with Nieah the next ti she saw her.

But now the buffer was nowhere to be found and Ragnar seed to realize this as well. There was a dark look in his eyes as he reached her, a look she had gotten to see one other ti on him.

He took her by the arm and she let him pull her back down the halls with him to their room. Then he turned and was on her before the door even closed behind them, his lips eting her in a passionate clash of tongue and teeth.

His mouth moved against hers with a kind of hunger that left her breathless, napping and biting, pouring everything he had into the kiss and it was sohow even better than she rembered.

Circe, you weak woman. She chastised herself but didn’t stop her fingers from finding the edge of his collar, gripping the fabric as if afraid he might slip away. She hadn’t even lasted longer than a few minutes alone with him without her buffer and what did that truly say about her?

The answer eluded her as Ragnar deepened the kiss, one hand cupping her jaw, the other tracing down the curve of her back until she lted against him completely.

The faint thud of the door closing behind them was swallowed by the sound of their ragged breathing, their lips parting only long enough for her to whisper his na before he claid her mouth again, slower this ti.

He kissed her languidly, tasting every inch of her lips. He kissed her like a man starved, soone who had been deprived for far too long and found that only her could sate him.

He had wanted to kiss her as soon as he saw her walk into that foyer and even with Nieah still standing there, he would have still done it regardless.

When he finally drew back, their foreheads rested together, both of them caught in that suspended mont. Longing and hunger glead in his dark eyes as he took in her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. The intensity of it made her want to look away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

He reached out, brushing his thumb across her cheek. A small, almost boyish smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I missed you."

It was such an understatent that it was almost laughable. No words could capture how difficult it had been to stay away from her that long, how many tis she’d invaded his thoughts, or how fiercely he had wanted to kiss her again, just like this.

He half-expected her to challenge his words as she had before. He saw the flicker of it in her eyes, the urge to deny or deflect, but this ti, she didn’t. And he was grateful for it.

"Why were you gone for so long?" Circe asked quietly, her curiosity breaking through the haze between them. He always found it endearing, how her mind worked, how open and unguarded her wonder could be at tis.

"Is that really what you want to talk about right now?" he murmured, voice still low from the kiss, though he wouldn’t have minded if it ant keeping her this close a while longer.

"Yes," she said firmly. "How would you feel if I told you I would be gone for only a short while, then disappeared for two weeks without a word, no explanation of where I was or when I would return?"

He tried to imagine it, to put himself in her shoes, and imdiately disliked the thought. No, he didn’t like the thought at all.

He knew she was right. He should have written while he was away, at least to reassure her. But instead of admitting it, he gave a short, amused chuckle.

"Were you thinking about while I was gone, princess?" he teased. Her eyes widened, as if the suggestion offended her deeply but her silence betrayed her. Her lips pressed together in that stubborn way that tempted him to kiss her again.

"I was sent on a mission by my father to ambush the campsite of notorious rebels." he said finally, his tone softening. " I couldn’t risk any word of it getting out and reaching the wrong people."

He reached for her hand then, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles against her skin, as though to make up for every day he had been away. The action soothed her irritation a bit but not fully.

"What about the gift you gave Rowen?" she asked, recalling how her brother’s eyes had brightened at the sight of the little wooden soldier. But as soon as the words left her lips, she noticed sothing shift in Ragnar’s expression, an edge of uncertainty that hadn’t been there before.

"I made it for him," he said simply.

She blinked, montarily thrown off by his answer. "What?"

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he reached for her wrist and gently tugged her toward the bed. Confused, she let him guide her, sitting when he gestured for her to do so. From her perch at the foot of the bed, she watched him move across the room and return with a small box in his hands.