Imagine sitting in your living room, huddled up on the couch under a blanket. A raging thunderstorm has knocked out all the power in your house, and you had to grope in the dark to find a flashlight–with the batteries half-dead–and a handful of mismatched candles and a mini-box of matches. You have the candles scattered around your living room, and the mingled scents of lavender, pine, candy canes, and “Vampire’s Blood” are making your head ache as you try to block out the deafening thunder outside.
The noise is so loud you don’t hear the front door open, and you have your eyes squinted closed so you don’t see the figure looming over you until a frigid hand comes down on your shoulder.
You shriek, throwing the tea you’d been nursing into the face of the towering figure, who splutters, gags, then curses.
“Honestly,” mutters Rowan as you shrink back against the couch. “That was totally uncalled for.”
The Prince pushes his hair–now soaked with tea in addition to the rain water–out of his face, and glares at you.
You stare at him, then jump up and grab him around the waist in a bone crushing hug as a flash of lightning and an explosion of thunder send your nerves jangling.
“You are totally pathetic,” he sighs, smiling as he sinks onto the couch with you trembling in his arms.
He waves a hand, and shimmering blue faerie lights spring into existence around the entire room. The thunder seems to quiet, and you can’t see the lightning through the windows anymore.
“Better?” he asks. You nod, burrowing your head under the blanket as he pulls it over both of you.