The Voice: A Sequel to Hwarang: The Saga of the Sooks Book #1

Chapter 9: The Snowy White Crow Tit

He didn't wake her. He was so tempted to. But he also reveled in watching her sleep. And she looked so peaceful. He just didn't have the heart to disturb such perfect slumber.

Instead, he lay down next to her and reached out to find her fingers with his own. He lay for a long time, pondering tomorrow. Finally, he fell asleep holding her hand.

––

The first thing of which she was aware the next morning was the birdsong coming from outside his window. Her eyes closed against the bright light streaming through that window, she lay still. And identified the bird immediately. She'd know that call anywhere. It was a crow tit. A tiny, fluffy, snow white bird that she had always adored. She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she listened to its happy song welcoming the day.

Finally, she rolled away from that window, and her eyes fluttered open. And widened in shock as a gasp left her lips. And she identified something else. The bed in which she was lying. And the man next to whom she'd spent the night sleeping.

But her gasp must have disturbed his slumber, for the next instant, she found herself confronted by his gorgeous, chocolate eyes which slowly opened to drink in her countenance. Their faces were only a scant few inches from each other. She could see him fairly clearly.

A lazy smile curved his lips as he drawled, "Good morning, beautiful."

She cleared her throat. And tried to retrieve her fleeing heart. The smile in his eyes was meant to calm her. But, instead, it wreaked havoc with her breathing. Would she ever react normally to this man?

And how was it legal for any man to be so attractive? Especially first thing in the morning. When his long hair was rumpled. And his eyes were languid with sleep. Still, he managed to appear adorable. Especially when he flashed that pretty smile at her. He challenged the crow tit for her attention.

And won.

"What am I doing in your bed?" she whispered gruffly as embarrassment turned her entire face a becoming pink.

He smiled with pleasure as he took in that beautiful color. "I put you here. Last night. Your presence was my only solace since you were asleep when I returned last night."

"That was your own fault for returning too late," she retorted acerbically to cover how flustered she felt.

He chuckled. "Ah, so you're saying I deserved to spend the night alone because I neglected you yesterday?"

"What?" she gasped. "No!" she denied his assertion as her skin continued to flood with heat. "That is not what I meant at all!"

She sat straight up and prepared to climb out of the bed. But several strong, slender fingers reached out to wrap around her wrist, chaining her hand to the bed and preventing her forward movement.

Her head snapped around, and she confronted him with those haunting, indigo eyes. "Let me go!"

"No," he flat-out refused her demand.

She tugged on her wrist, but that elegant hand continued to hold tight to her arm.

"Please. Calm down. Lie down. I want to look at you."

His words were like arrows piercing her consciousness with shock. He wanted to look at her?

"Why?" she whispered as she turned her face away from him.

"Because your beauty is a balm to me."

Perplexed, she furrowed her brow as she turned back towards him. "A balm? For what pain?"