Page 42 of Heart Cradle (The Melrathen Saga #1)

After the quiet dinner with just Eiran and Branfil, Maeve had felt strangely full.

Not just from the food, but from the stillness and the comfort of it all.

No expectations, just a meal, shared in low light, with soft conversation and warm glances.

When Branfil had excused himself with a knowing smile and a respectful nod, the silence that followed wasn’t awkward, it was just…

expectant. She lay sprawled on a thick rug before the fire now, content and watching the flames dance while the heat kissed her skin.

Eiran was behind her, settled on the sofa, eyes on her like she was something sacred to be treasured.

She let out a satisfied sigh, “if I’d known fae food was that good, I’d have awakened as one years ago. ”

Eiran gave a soft chuckle, his eyes were fixed on her, and after a beat, he spoke, quiet and rough. “You were unconscious for five nights,” he said. “It was one of the worst weeks of my life.”

Maeve blinked, taken off guard by the bluntness of it. She turned her head, watching him through the flickering firelight.

“I think...” He hesitated, then looked away, his voice almost a whisper. “The only other time I felt anything close to that level of terror was when you and Aeilanna were taken.”

Maeve exhaled slowly, absorbing the weight of it. “Not exactly a man unacquainted with trauma, then?”

To her surprise, he smiled, faint and self-deprecating.

“Actually, that’s the thing… I haven’t really had much of it.

I was born into privilege, loved by my parents.

” He shrugged slightly. “My grandfather indulged me, my best friend became my brother. I was given Xelaini when I was five for fuck’s sake. A hatchling as a named companion.”

He gave a soft scoff. “So yes, you lying there, lifeless, not knowing if you’d wake again… it was worse than the wars, worse than any battlefield. It was helplessness, and I don’t think I’ve ever truly known what that felt like until you.”

Maeve stared at him, heart stuttering, something squeezing in her chest. She didn’t speak, instead she turned to him and patted the space beside her.

Eiran didn’t hesitate, he stretched out on the rug beside her, his fingers brushed over her cheek, then gently traced her slightly pointed fae ear.

She didn’t flinch at the gesture, she just let him look .

“I’m sorry… for trying to make things easier.

For treating you like a passenger, like a doll.

I thought I was helping. I thought I was making it bearable, but it was control.

Even if I didn’t mean it to be… it was still that.

” His throat worked as he swallowed, voice hoarse.

“I’m sorry for pushing myself on you. For telling you I loved you when you weren’t ready.

I didn’t know how to hold it in. I was ready and you weren’t…

aren’t and I didn’t ever give you time.”

He blinked quickly, eyes shining in the firelight. “I’m just... sorry.”

Maeve reached out and touched the small patch of skin at the base of his throat, where his shirt had slipped open. Her fingers traced his pulse, steady beneath the surface. “I love you, Eiran,” she said simply.

His brows drew together slightly, as though he wasn’t sure he’d heard her right.

“I knew it the moment I was in that stone cell,” she continued. “I couldn’t feel you. When everything inside me screamed for you, ached for you. I didn’t say your name because... I didn’t want them to tie you to me fully. I didn’t want to endanger you, that was my only goal.”

He stared at her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful. But I love you, Eiran. Even if I don’t understand it, I know how I feel.”

His lips trembled faintly before he brushed them against hers in a kiss so soft it undid her. Filled with emotion and ache and everything they hadn’t said until now.

“I swear,” he murmured against her mouth, “if this is some sleep-deprived hallucination, I’m going to be fucking unbearable when I come around.”

She laughed, breathless. “Oh, shut up and kiss me again.”

He did and the fire was the only witness as clothes were peeled away, not in haste with magic, but in ceremony.

Every inch of skin revealed was touched, kissed and cherished.

Eiran moved with the patience of someone who knew what he held in his hands.

Maeve gave herself with the trust of someone who finally knew she wouldn’t be broken for it.

When he settled between her thighs, they paused, foreheads pressed together, breath mingling.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she answered .

He entered her with reverence, a slow joining that felt less like passion and more like devotion.

They moved together as though they had always known how, bodies knowing each other’s rhythm, heartbeats falling into sync.

She gasped softly when she rolled her hips to meet his.

Her hands gripping his back, her mouth catching against his neck.

Eiran’s lips found her shoulder, her collarbone, her cheek, leaving kisses like confessions, wishes and promises.

There were no words left, only touch, only breath.

Only love.