Ragnar came to sit beside her on the bed, the box still in his hands, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.
Circe could feel the warmth of him immediately, that quiet, magnetic presence of his that always managed to twist her up from inside no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.
It made no sense why she still felt that way when she just had her lips on his moments ago, felt his breath mingle with hers. Yet somehow it was his simple nearness now that felt far more dangerous.
Refusing to agonize over it any further, she focused instead on the box he carried.
Ragnar opened it carefully, revealing an assortment of carved wooden figurines nestled inside. The figurines varied in size and shape, some were of animals and other objects while others were of people just like the one Ragnar gave to Rowen.
Circe leaned closer, her breath catching as her eyes roamed over the delicate carvings. She was in awe of them and for once, she didn't even bother hiding it.
