Page 13

13

Reyla

I dozed and woke when Lorant lifted me from the bed. Sleepy, I snuggled into his chest. Despite the dull, throbbing ache low in my belly, it felt too good to be held by this man, to let him sweep me up and take me wherever he pleased.

He settled on the sofa with me nestled in his lap, and with a flick of his finger, the cold and dark wood lying in the hearth lit up. A fire soon crackled, spreading heat and lighting the room with lulling flickers.

Farris looked up from where he lay on the cushions beside us. After one flop of his tail, he drifted back to sleep, leaving me alone with Lorant, the king of the night.

Lorant dragged a blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over us, settling me with my side pressed against his chest. When I leaned my cheek against him, I could hear his heart beating steadily.

The crackle of the fire filled the room with a low, soothing hum, and I drifted to sleep, waking sometime before dawn.

My belly throbbed again, damn thing. Yet the warmth of Lorant’s chest against my side helped.

His arms tightened around me, one of his hands resting on my hip beneath the blanket. “Is the pain back?” At my nod, he crafted another mug of potion, magicking away the cup after I’d finished.

I remained in his arms, telling myself I did so because it hurt too much to move, not because I wanted to— needed to.

Such a lie.

Every action and choice we made wove us into fate’s grand pattern. If lying was a cut in my thread, a fray they hadn’t anticipated, would they punish me for it? Or would they let me unravel completely one day?

There was this part of me, a strange, rebellious part, that said maybe this ability to lie wasn’t a flaw at all. Maybe I was something new. Something the fates hadn’t seen coming. I was an error in their perfection, one that would thrive.

No ripple stayed small forever.

Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t empty. It hung with bruised edges I wasn’t sure either of us knew how to soothe. I wasn’t ready to push him away. There was something almost fragile in the way he held me, as if doing so was all that mattered to him. Such a silly thought. And unnerving. Seeing him in this way, unlike the snarly fae lord who prowled the shadows of my night made my heart throb.

He told me he’d wanted me from the moment he saw me.

I wasn’t sure how to deal with that.

“Thank you. The pain’s easing,” I said to keep my mind from rushing down that path .

“You shouldn't need me like this.” His words came out quiet, yet they sounded as if he’d dragged them up his throat.

“You don’t have to be here. You don’t need to hold me?—”

“Oh, I do.”

He didn’t, though. “And you don’t need to craft pain potions for me. I’ve survived many flows in my life, and I’ll find a way through the rest on my own.”

“That wasn’t what I meant. You shouldn’t need me , not when Merrick can give you everything I can’t. As you rightly pointed out, he’s better than me. Kinder. Safer. Easier.” His lips thinned. “I’m the storm.”

“Why would anyone want easy?” My voice came out hoarse, my heart too shattered for this conversation.

He paused, as if my question didn’t make sense to him. “You deserve easy. You deserve peace.” His thumb traced over my hip, the touch rough from his callouses but softer than his voice. “That's not in me.”

“Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think.” Sitting up straighter, I shifted my head back, noting the lines carved deep into his face. “You’re wrong.”

His eyebrows lifted. “About what in particular? After all, there are many things about me to choose from.”

“You’re wrong about what I deserve, and you’re wrong about what you are. Merrick’s kind. He’s thoughtful, warm in a way that makes me feel protected. But that doesn’t mean I want him more than you.”

His hand tensed on my hip. “The way you speak about him?—”

“That isn’t the point. You’re not the lesser half of him. You two, like life, provide balance. The night doesn't lack beauty just because you can't see in the darkness. And storms can cleanse the world as easily as they destroy.”

“I’m built to fight. Formed to take. My only role is to claw through the darkness to clear the way for the light.” His mouth curved into a sardonic smile. “But what use is that to someone who craves trust instead of torment?”

I shook my head, frustration bubbling under my skin. “You keep repeating what you’re meant to be like it’s a fact. It’s not some immovable truth carved into stone. But you’re not the lesser part of this curse, the piece of the cursed fae king who's been thrown to the side.” My fingers curled around his tunic, biting deep. “Whatever you think of yourself, you’re here. Holding me. Talking to me. Caring about whether I’m in pain. There isn't anything thoughtless in that.”

His throat worked as he swallowed, and I saw it—the barest flicker of surprise, almost relief on his face. The light from the fire shone in his green eyes a shade darker than Merrick’s.

“You find things in me I never let myself see,” he croaked. “And you… You make me feel whole in ways I didn't know I needed. Ways I don't know how to ask for.”

My chest tightened, my throat pinched and aching. “You shouldn’t have to ask.”

He pressed his forehead against mine, and his breath warmed my skin when he spoke. “You deserve a man who doesn’t need you to put him back together.”

“And you deserve someone who knows this battle is worth fighting.”

He stroked his fingers down my cheek, his touch lighter than a featherdorn, a mythical, tiny golden bird that flitted from one flower to another and was said to grant wishes if captured. This man was as elusive as that bird. If I caught him, would he grant me all my wishes?

His arms tightened around me.

I dozed…waking to go to the bathing area. He even helped me wi th that. True mortification right there. This was Lorant. He drew blood; he didn’t mop it up or magic rags to control it.

Except with me.

I woke with dawn’s light slicing through the room.

In Merrick’s arms.

Looking up, I took in the smooth skin of his face, his firm jawline, and the tortured fear shining in his lighter green eyes.

“Hey,” he said, his voice guarded.

“Good morning.” I held his gaze. “You didn’t leave before…”

“I won’t keep anything from you. Never again. I’ll spend what time I have left making this up to you. I promise.”

“You said you’d tell me what you can, and I can see now that you have. I understand why you haven’t told me everything.”

His posture didn’t sag—Merrick never allowed cracks in his facade like that. But the relief in his eyes cut through me, carving across my resolve like one of the blades he'd crafted for me with his own hands. The truth of it hit me harder than I wanted to admit. When I’d watched Merrick change into Lorant, I'd believed he'd held it back on purpose with no thought of how I'd feel. I’d painted him as the villain of my story. My anger was a sword I’d aimed straight at them both.

But now I could see that my fury had been misplaced. He wasn’t withholding secrets to manipulate me or wield some mysterious power over my life. He’d been incapable of telling me. Incapable because whoever had cursed him had made sure he couldn’t reveal the truth. They'd bound it so tightly around his throat that even trying could steal his air, his life.

And I'd doubted him. Doubted them .

The hollow ache in my chest stole the breath from me. I’d been protecting myself in all the wrong ways, shoving them out instead of pulling them closer. If I’d stopped long enough to really see him, to really see them , maybe I wouldn’t have spent so much time chasing shadows of betrayal where there were none.

It was time to focus that anger on who deserved it most, the wizard who'd cursed his family, doomed him, and left me scrambling to pick up the pieces with barely enough time to fuse them together.

Five weeks.

Five weeks , and every second we wasted felt like broken glass gouging into bare feet.

My gaze searched his, finding an openness there that exposed me. He wasn’t hiding this time. There was no carefully constructed wall of charm, no martyr-king smile lifted to shield him from rejection. He was here, fully, entirely, vulnerably here with me, placing himself into my hands.

Trusting me, of all people, not to shatter him.

It should’ve been empowering, but it felt like I stood at the edge of a cliff beside him. Anything I did now, every decision I made, could send us both careening off the side.

He’d risked far more than I’d ever realized. His health. His sanity. His very life. Because trying to tell me the truth could kill him. And still, he hadn’t stopped trying. He’d let me believe the worst of him, even when it hurt.

His gaze softened in the kind of way that told me he’d noticed something in my expression. Maybe I was revealing too much. I cleared my throat and shifted in his lap like that might somehow force the storm inside me to settle.

“I meant to say thank you,” I said. Too focused on my thoughts, I didn’t realize how wobbly my words might sound until they were out.

“For what?” The concern in his voice sunk under my skin.

“For staying. For not—” I made a vague gesture between us. “Leaving before I woke up. ”

His lips twisted in a grimace of a smile that must reflect the turmoil he’d felt while sitting here, holding me in his arms while I slept, knowing that I might wake up and reject him.

Amusement flared in his eyes. “I don’t get enough credit for my ability to hold onto hope.”

A laugh choked out of me. It startled me as much as it seemed to surprise him. “If staying means keeping me trapped in your arms all morning, I might have to lodge a complaint.” My smile made my cheeks ache, but in a good way. I felt like I’d been through a terrifying storm and now a bright dawn arched across the sky.

His eyebrows lifted, his grin full and easy now. “Trapped, is it?” He tipped his head closer, enough for the tips of his hair to tickle my face. “Are you going to keep pretending you don’t like where you are? I could let you go, Wildfire.”

I huffed, rolling my eyes to cover the way my face warmed. Carefully, I slid off his lap, ignoring how cold the loss of his touch felt as I moved away.

When I’d returned from the bathing area, Farris skittered over to bump against my legs, his wagging tail smacking my calves in a rhythm determined to interrupt every serious thought I’d ever had. I snatched his silver ball off the floor and held it up while he leaped to try to grab it.

“If you’re interested in self-improvement, you could work on being a little less full of yourself,” I shot his way, testing how normal my voice sounded. Not completely, but close enough.

Merrick's laugh was like sunlight piercing through dark clouds. “And you could work on admitting when you enjoy something.”

I let the ball hover in the air before tossing it across the room. Farris bolted after it, his claws scraping the floor. “I’ll admit it when you stop acting like it means you’ve won.” I glanced back, over my shoulder. “You’re the one who’s king. Shouldn’t you be focused on winning something a bit more important than me?”

He stood and remained where he was, maybe waiting to see if I’d bolt like my nyxin if he came closer. “Winning you is the most important thing I’ll ever do.”

My smile pinched. I didn't know how to respond to that, to the emotions churning through the room. I covered by crossing to the window, where I stood as straight as I could, rubbing my belly that throbbed dully. Rain speckled the glass, tracing faint lines that reflected back at the gray sky. When I felt more composed, I turned to face him again.

He shrugged in a boyish way that didn’t match the intensity in his gaze. “Truth often sounds dramatic. I'll keep that in mind.” He reached for Farris, who’d been trying to get to me with his ball, his tail wagging hard enough to knock things off a low table. Merrick took it from the nyxin and threw it again.

“I’m glad you were able to sleep,” he said.

In his arms.

I’d been aware of his comfort, his embrace all night. First Lorant and then, later, Merrick.

“I’m even happier to see you moving easily,” he added.

“The cure’s working.”

“I’ll happily craft more for you when the prior starts to wear off.”

“Three days is the usual for me, and sadly, I’m uncomfortable the entire time.” I smirked. “I’ll keep you around to brew it for me each month when I…”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Only five weeks. There may only be one more month where he’d be here to help me, to hold me until the pain eased.

Odd how quickly I was getting used to the fact that these men were basically the same person, though what one did was independent from the other. No wonder they shared what was done or said while the other was absent. Otherwise, how would they remain sane?

“Thank you,” I said softly, settling back on the sofa. “Not only for the potion, but for how all this has played out since I boarded the ship.” Where I first met Lorant instead of him.

“It’s taken time, too much perhaps, but I’ve come to some sort of acceptance.”

That he’d die? I couldn’t name it. Wouldn’t name it. Throwing the words out would be no different from tossing a blade at his throat with my usual skill.

“You don’t mind that I spent time with him,” I said, still stunned by that fact. “Actually, you pushed me toward him, right from the start.”

“That I did.”

“Why?”

His head jerked in a no.

“You can’t say.”

He blinked.

I thought about how I could quiz him further, because I sensed there could be clues in the answers I dragged from him, but Farris scampered over and onto the sofa, dropping his favorite ball on my shoulder. It rolled off and skittered across the floor. Leaping after it, he picked it up again, and this time laid it on my thigh.

“Someone needs to go outside and run around a bit,” I said, rising. “I…” My heart hammering, I met my husband's gaze. “I liked falling asleep with you. Waking with you.”

“Reyla,” he rasped.

“I hope it's not wrong of me to see you as the same person. I know in many ways, you're not, but here,” I tapped my chest where I ached and ached and ached, “that's what you are.”

He walked right up to me, stopping and staring at me with so much joy in his eyes, it made my breathing come to a halt. “You.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. “Make.” He squeezed. “Me.” Curling toward me, he placed a kiss on my brow. “Incredibly happy.” Leaning back, he gave me the sweetest, sexiest smile.

Despite the dull ache in my belly, I couldn’t stop smiling myself. “I think we should?—”

“My queen?” Moira called out through the door. “Can we come in?”

I froze, gazing about in panic. “We need to hide you.”

His low laugh tickled down my spine. “Why?”

“Because you’re inside my suite.” I flipped my hands around in agitation. “It’s morning, and they didn’t see you arrive, something you’ll have to explain later because he arrived, obviously, though last night. But you’re here!”

“I’m your husband. I belong here,” he said quietly, his fingers still snug on my shoulders. He released one hand only to tuck a finger beneath my chin, lifting my face up to meet my eyes. “Or you belong in my suite. You decide which it will be.”

Ah, yes, he did belong here. Or me with him, though I wasn’t sure when bigger things should take place. Despite feeling they were one person in my heart, being with one of them intimately was not the same as being with them both. And I wasn’t sure I was ready to climb all over one, then sink down onto another, only to wake with the first, knowing he wouldn’t have experienced what the other one had.

This was incredibly confusing.

“My queen?” Calista’s voice grated at a higher tone than her daughter’s. “Are you alright?”

Farris hopped around us with his ball. If nothing else, I needed to send him outside with Faelith.

“Me being here is making you uncomfortable.” There was no mistaking the disappointment in Merrick’s voice. He tightened his spine and peered around. “I’ll hide while you send them away. Then I can slink down the hall and… No, that won’t work.” His gaze shot to a window. “I’ll reach my room a different way. There isn’t anything I’m not willing to do to ensure you’re happy.”

“No, don’t leave.” My lips quivered, but I gave him a real smile and lifted my voice. “Ladies? You may enter.”

The approval in his gaze scorched a new path straight through me. “Now there’s my wildfire bride.”

When the door burst open, my ladies bustled inside. Calista, leading the charge, came to such a quick halt that the other two knocked into her. The three scrambled together before righting themselves and smoothing their gowns.

Surren watched from the open doorway, his lips twitching with humor.

My ladies gaped at me standing close to Merrick.

“I’ll see you later, my queen?” he asked with a lilt in his voice that trickled like the warmest horig through me.

“Of course.”

He kissed me, keeping it chaste for my ladies. A damn shame right there. His fingertips trailed down my cheek once more before he strode toward the door, stopping beside my wide-eyed ladies, where he dipped his head forward in a slight bow. “Calista. Moira. Faelith. Such a lovely day, don’t you agree?”

Calista scowled at the bank of windows. “It’s raining. Cold. Miserable if you ask me.”

“Perfect for my fine fellow who adores leaping to catch the raindrops.” Faelith trotted over to grab Farris’s collar and leash off the table and held them out toward him. “Would you like to go for a long, lovely walk, Farris?” Her gaze met mine. “I’ll dress warmly and make sure he has a good run, shall I? ”

“Please and thank you.” I could barely look at her. All my focus remained on Merrick.

My husband.

Mine to claim when I was ready.

After shooting me a final grin, Merrick sauntered out into the hall. He called to my guards, using each of their names, and in a jovial voice, wishing them a good morning. His footsteps faded as he made his way to his own suite.

“Well,” Calista said with a downward twist of her lips. “That’s… Yes.” A cool breeze shot through the open door, and she shivered, rubbing her arms. “What would you like to wear today, my queen?”

“I’m going to remain in my suite for the next few days.”

Moira’s breath caught. “Are you well, my queen?”

“I will be.” I rubbed my belly.

Her face cleared. “Ah, yes. Never a pleasant time, now is it?”

I shook my head.

“I think a bath?” She waited for my nod before hurrying to the bathing area, where the gush of water soon rang out.

My ladies hovered over me the entire day, only stepping out when Merrick arrived to craft the potion I gratefully drank.

That night, I roused to find Lorant sitting in a chair close to my bed, his intent gaze on me. Seeing me awake, he lifted me from beneath the blankets and strode to the bathing area, only turning around when I gently asked him to. There was only so much I wanted to reveal—about this messy flow and my heart. When I’d finished, he carried me out to the sitting area, settling on the sofa. He lit the fire and tucked a blanket around me while I curled up on his lap.

He held me.

And when I woke, I was snuggling against Merrick’s chest. His head had tilted back to rest on the back of the sofa, and he dozed, his arms still tight around me.

This pattern continued, both of them watching over me. Ensuring I felt almost no pain. Holding me to give comfort.

Days later, I roused at dawn to find myself in Merrick’s arms again, this time with him lying on top of the blankets beside me.

That was when what was left of my walls started to unravel.