Page 25 of Fate of Echoes and Embers (Heirs of Elydor #3)

MAREK

I had nothing to tell her.

Truth was, I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to see her again.

“Pardon me?”

I swept past her, assessing her chamber and its balcony. Striding toward it, I gestured outside.

“I’m jesting, of course,” I said. “May I?”

She didn’t believe me, likely because I was not jesting at all.

When she followed me, I took that as a yes and stepped past the billowing curtains into the warm breeze. Though not as warm as it would have been in the south, it was unusually so for Aetheria this time of year.

Taking a deep breath, my shoulders immediately relaxed. We were too far away to hear the sea, the moon hardly enough to illuminate much of its dark expanse, but that smell…

“I grew up in a small home in Corvi. My father, the head of the Navigator’s Guild there.”

“What is that?” Issa asked, joining me. She wrapped her hands around the marble rail, looking down to the palace lights below.

“A training center for seafarers and mapmakers. It was not extravagant, our home, but I could step outside and onto the shore. This smell, the sound of the sea… I find it difficult to be away from it for long.”

“I can understand that. I wasn’t raised near it but feel the same. There’s a calmness, a peace that is indescribable at sea. Or even here.”

“Do you know why?”

“Sure.”

I considered explaining the rhythm of the waves being in tune with the natural world of Elydor or how the origins of its magic were tied to the sea.

But I didn’t.

Turning to her, I offered Issa a bigger truth.

“It’s a reminder that there is a world beyond duty and expectation, a place where you could be something more than what was dictated for you. I also believe you may even have an ancient connection to the water, deep within your soul.”

Her laugh was hesitant, as if Issa recognized the truth of my words but would never admit it.

“I doubt that,” she said, dismissing me. “I am destined to be landlocked, unfortunately.”

No, you’re not.

I didn’t argue the point, though.

“How do you feel, after the meeting?”

“Uneasy,” she admitted. “I’m grateful for the king’s aid, but know those borders well. It will be seen as a threat to Gyoria and my fear that it could spark a war is not hyperbole.”

“No, I don’t imagine it is. But war has been brewing for some time. Unless the Gate is reopened, I fear it’s inevitable.”

“And if it is reopened?” Her body’s movement underscored her words. “You believe King Balthor will simply shrug his shoulders and accept it?”

“When we met,” I ventured, knowing the subject of our first meeting was a sore one, “it was that passion of yours that first captivated me.”

“Marek—”

“Issa,” I countered. “Pretending those days never happened isn’t the answer.”

Her eyes flashed, angry and ready to battle.

“I hurt you,” I continued, “in order to protect myself. Immortality, the long life I’ve enjoyed thus far, hadn’t prepared me to meet someone like you. I don’t try to escape blame for what I did, but to better explain my reasons.”

She sighed, as if defeated. I hated seeing her that way. Hated that I was the cause.

“What do you want from me, Marek? Why did you come here tonight?”

I didn’t trust myself to answer the first question. Loving Issa wasn’t enough. The second one was easier.

“Because I am drawn to you, as I’ve always been.”

She opened her mouth to answer, but then closed it. It was foolish of me to have inserted myself back in her life. But did I regret it? I was selfish enough not to, even knowing I wasn’t enough for her.

“I shouldn’t have come.”

Her hand on my arm as I took a step away was like an anchor, snagging me even as the tide attempted to pull me away.

“Marek.”

I should have walked away. But I didn’t.

The permission I needed was in the way she looked at me, more trusting than it should be after all the pain I caused her.

“Sereia,” I murmured, reaching for the back of her head, weaving my fingers into her hair. Groaning at the feel of her, at the look in her eyes that told me not to stop, I took the step that closed any remaining distance between us.

Pulling her toward me, I covered her mouth with mine. I drew her in, reminding her of the first kiss, parting her lips with my tongue. Hesitant, inexperienced, Issa touched her tongue to mine as she had the first time.

I pulled her head into me, giving no quarter and ensuring Issa would not want to pull away. I drew her in deeper, and deeper, the kiss a long time coming. When her other hand joined the first, now both tentatively lying on my arms, I gave into the kiss completely.

Pressing against her, our bodies touching at every point, I drank from the innocence she offered, Issa’s head tilting to give me better access. When she murmured, low in her throat, the shred of control I hung onto evaporated.

Though the gown she wore placed layers of material between us, its bodice begged to be explored.

Slipping my hand from her hair, I moved it between us, edging upward until the embroidered threads ended and the curve of her breasts began.

My thumb explored and dipped below the material, emboldened by her response.

“Issa,” I murmured, breaking our kiss, moving to her neck, surprised when she tossed her head back to allow me better access. It was the same as when she’d taken control of the ship. Issa did nothing in half-measures, and now unleashed, her passion was on full display.

I moved lower, and lower, kissing the top of each breast and moments away from tearing the gown from her body when her words from before came back to me.

I am a virgin.

Still, I lifted my head and looked into her eyes.

“Are you… When last we met, you were an innocent still.”

Her lips were swollen from our kiss. Her breath came quickly, Issa as caught up in the moment as me.

“I have saved myself, in case the need arose for me to be wed.”

It was the same answer she gave before.

“You would use your virginity as a bargaining chip?”

Her head rose. “If I must. To save Hawthorne. There are noblemen who?—”

I could not hear anymore. The thought of Issa being with one of those so-called nobles who hung onto the old ways made my stomach turn.

Issa is no man’s paramour.

“We cannot do this.”

As difficult as it was, I stood back. Dropped my hands and cursed the small bit of honor still remaining within me. “There is no turning back if we continue.”

“I may not have been with many men, but even I know there are ways to find pleasure while leaving my innocence intact.”

The thought of having my head buried between Issa’s legs, then watching her face as I brought her that pleasure, was nearly my undoing.

But then I thought of another man doing it. “You know this from experience?”

It was the wrong thing to say.

“You, of all people, would ask such a question?”

She was right, of course, but the thought of Issa being with another man sent a white-hot need to blast them into the depths of the sea coursing through my body.

“I have no right to the answer,” I admitted.

“No,” she agreed. “You don’t.”

“This was a mistake.”

“On that,” she said, striding into the chamber, “we can agree.”

She didn’t stop until she was at her door. I couldn’t leave this way.

“You are the last woman alive I would wish to disrespect. Just the opposite, in fact.”

“I wish I could believe that, Marek.”

I wish there was a way to prove it to you.

The only thing I could think of was to leave her be.

“Good eve, Issa.” I pulled the words from me like the heaviest of anchors.

“And to you.” But her parting was stiff. The walls that had briefly come down between us were once again erected. As I left her chamber and made my way through the corridor, I wondered if the damage I’d done, both at Hawthorne and this eve, was irreparable.

And if I’d already lost her, why did it feel like I was still drowning?