Page 74
Story: Princess of Death
His eyes frantically shifted back and forth between mine. “Lily, are you sure there’s nothing else wrong?”
“Yes.” I sniffed again and forced the tears to stop. “I just…” I swallowed my emotions and forced myself to regain my calm. “I know I’m a blessing to you. But you’re also a blessing to me.”
Once I was in the privacy of my villa, I let the tears stream free.
It was an ugly sob, the kind that made me gasp for breath, made my hands hide my face even though there was no one there to witness my tears. My heart ached and my chest squeezed. Everything hurt.
“Xivin.” Big hands gently squeezed my wrists and started to pull my hands from my face.
I gasped then turned away from him, leaving his hold. I was shocked he was there, but deep in the throes of my pain, I didn’t react to it. My back remained to him to hide my blotched and puffy face, to hide my weakness that I never showed to anyone. I cried so hard I couldn’t even find the words to respond to his presence.
He moved into me, hooked his arms across my chest, and gently tugged me into him, holding me from behind.
My hands automatically grabbed on to his forearms because it was comforting to be squeezed. My deep breaths slowly faded, and I took a long descent to calm. My chest rose and fell with big swells, but they slowly decreased as my eyes ran dry.
His chin rested on my head as he waited patiently.
I was broken by my father’s grief but also overjoyed that Wrath had returned to me. It was the biggest contradiction of emotions I’d ever felt in my life.
He gently shifted me in his arms, at first seeing if I would cooperate instead of fight, and then he turned me completely to face him, his eyes on my beet-red face. He took me in with a moment of silence before he cupped my cheek. “What happened?”
“I didn’t think you’d come back…” I turned into his palm, severing our eye contact because I didn’t want to watch him look at me, see the mess I’d become.
“At first, I needed time…and then duty required me elsewhere.”
I was still angry he’d left me for so long. Still mortally wounded by his absence. “You can’t just do that.” I stepped out of his grasp and rejected his touch, even though I longed for it like a warm fire in the snow.
He let me go.
“I said I needed time?—”
“And I didn’t know if you were ever going to return.” I felt my chest swell once more with angry emotion. “How was I supposed to feel? One day turned into two, and then two turned into seven, and then I feared that we were done. Who the fuck does that?”
He stared me down without needing to blink, that intensity white-hot. “I will always return,Xivin.” He stepped closer to me, shirtless and a powerhouse of muscle and warm skin. “You know that.”
My eyes shifted away when I couldn’t handle his stare.
“Always.”
The depth of his sincerity made me shift my eyes back.
His stare was more intense than before, angry at my doubt and stirred by my turmoil.
His reassurance was like sunshine to my petals, warmth to my soil. It made me feel so much that my emotion immediately shifted back to dread. “When did this happen?” I spoke barely above a whisper, to myself and not loudly.
He gave no reaction, so it was unclear whether he heard it or not. Until he spoke. “The moment our eyes met on a dead island with trees made of stone. That’s when it happened,Xivin.”
My ducts had run dry, and now my throat felt like sandpaper. A drought had overcome me.
“Tell me your sorrow.”
I gave a slight shake of my head.
“I need to know why I was met with your rivers of tears. I need to know I didn’t cause them, and if I did, I need to know that as well so I can plead for your forgiveness.” He was barefoot and bare-chested, regarding me like a lover who shared my space, with the hard density of a stone statue and the presence of a mighty king.
I took a heavy breath. “My father and I spoke in the courtyard before I came home. I grieved for his loss, even though he doesn’t know the source of my sadness. I told him I was sorry that I left on the journey. I told him how grateful I am that he’s my father. I don’t want to see him differently, but it’s hard not to.”
Instead of growing angry at the mention of my father, he kept his stare subdued. “I don’t respect your father’s abandonment of his oath. But I respect him immensely as a father. The way he loves you reminds me…” He paused, and then his throat shifted when he swallowed.
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