Page 19 of Realms of Swords and Storms (Empire of Vengeance #3)

I hesitated, then added the fear I couldn't bring myself to fully acknowledge: "Because I love you, and I'm terrified I'm losing you anyway."

Something in Tarshi's expression shifted, softened. He moved from the desk to sit beside me on the bed, his presence a familiar comfort even with the recent distance between us. "Why would you think you're losing me?"

"You've been different lately. Distant. Secretive." I turned to face him fully. "You and Septimus both. You disappear for hours without explanation. You have conversations that stop the moment I approach. What am I supposed to think?"

Tarshi's hand found mine, his fingers interlacing with my own in a gesture so achingly familiar that it made my throat tight. "Liv, no. It's not like that."

"Then what is it like?" I demanded. "Because I feel like I'm drowning here, Tarshi. Everything is falling apart. I can't focus on my training, I can't sleep, I see Arilius in my dreams every night with his blood on my hands, and now I'm questioning everything—my purpose, my strength, my resolve."

I pulled my hand from his, standing to pace the small confines of my room. "What if I can't do it? What if, when the moment comes, I don't have the strength to kill the Emperor? What if I'm too broken, too weak?" My voice cracked on the last word.

Tarshi rose, moving to intercept my restless pacing.

His hands caught my shoulders, gently but firmly stopping my movement.

"Your worth isn't measured by your capacity for vengeance," he said quietly.

"You're not weak, Little Dragon. You survived when no one else did.

You escaped when it should have been impossible.

You found Sirrax and bonded with him when most riders spend years just learning to communicate with their dragons. "

His words were kind, but they didn't ease the knot of failure in my chest. "If I can't avenge my family, what am I even doing here? What's the point of any of this?"

"Maybe vengeance isn't the only way to honour them," Tarshi suggested. "Maybe changing the world that allowed their deaths is a better tribute than one more killing."

I looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Tarshi hesitated, something guarded entering his expression. "The resistance isn't just about assassinating the Emperor, Liv. It's about transforming the entire system. Creating a world where what happened to your family couldn't happen to anyone else."

"And how exactly am I supposed to help with that?" I asked, a hint of bitterness creeping into my voice. "Politics have never been my strength."

A small smile curved Tarshi's lips. "You're a badass warrior with a ferocious dragon," he reminded me, a hint of pride in his voice. "When the fighting starts—and it will—we'll need people like you. The Emperor won't surrender the power his family has held for centuries without bloodshed."

I considered his words, trying to imagine a different path for myself—not a solitary assassin, but part of something larger. It was both terrifying and strangely comforting, the idea that I might not have to carry the weight of vengeance alone.

"Is that what you and Septimus have been doing?" I asked. "Why you've both been so secretive lately? Resistance work?"

Tarshi's expression closed slightly. "It's complicated, Liv. There are things I can't tell you. Not yet. But I promise, nothing has changed in how I feel about you."

His hands moved from my shoulders to cup my face, his touch gentle despite the strength I knew he possessed. "I love you. That hasn't changed. That will never change."

"But something has changed," I insisted. "I can feel it. You've pulled away from me, Tarshi. And I can't bear it. Everything else in my life is chaos and lies, but you—you're the one true thing I have. If I lose that..."

I couldn't finish the thought. The idea was too painful to voice.

Tarshi's forehead touched mine, his breath warm against my lips. "You won't lose me," he promised. "Never. Things are just... difficult right now. Dangerous. I've been trying to protect you."

"I don't need protection," I reminded him. "I need you. All of you, not just the parts you think are safe to share."

He closed his eyes briefly, and I sensed an internal struggle within him. When he looked at me again, there was a new resolve in his gaze. "You're right. I have been keeping things from you. But not because I don't trust you or because my feelings have changed."

His thumbs brushed over my cheekbones, a tender gesture that made my heart ache. "The resistance is gaining momentum, Liv. Real momentum. But with that comes greater risk. If the wrong people discovered our involvement..."

I understood then. He hadn't been pulling away from me; he'd been trying to shield me from the consequences of his actions. "You thought if you kept me in the dark, I'd be safer if you were caught."

He nodded. "Plausible deniability. But I see now that was a mistake. I'm hurting you more by shutting you out."

"Yes, you are," I agreed, but there was no anger in my voice now, only relief at finally understanding. "We face our dangers together, Tarshi. Always have."

"Always will," he promised.

Something in me uncoiled then, a tension I hadn't fully recognized until it released. I leaned into him, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my palm. "I've missed you," I whispered.

His arms encircled me, pulling me against him. "I've been right here," he said softly. "I'm sorry I made you doubt that."

We stayed that way for a long moment, reconnecting in the silence. With Tarshi, I didn't need words to feel understood, to feel whole. It had always been that way between us, even before we became lovers—a recognition of souls that transcended ordinary communication.

Eventually, I pulled back slightly to look up at him. "So what now? Do you tell me everything, or do we find a middle ground?"

Tarshi tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch lingering against my skin. "Some things are still dangerous for you to know. Not because I don't trust you, but because knowledge itself can be a liability. But I promise no more unnecessary secrets between us."

I nodded, accepting this compromise. "And Septimus? Is he alright? He's been even more distant than you."

A shadow crossed Tarshi's face, something I couldn't quite interpret. "Septimus is... handling things in his own way. He cares for you deeply, Liv. Never doubt that."

There was something he wasn't saying, but I decided not to press. One revelation at a time was enough. "And what about Jalend?" I asked instead. "What do I do about him?"

Tarshi's expression darkened slightly at the mention of Jalend's name. "What do you want to do?"

It was a fair question, but one I had no answer for. "I don't know," I admitted. "Part of me wants to see where it could go, but I know that's impossible. He's nobility, Tarshi. Even if I wasn't... what I am... even if I wasn't with you... his family would never permit anything real between us."

"And if they would?" Tarshi asked quietly. "If there were no barriers of class or station, would you choose him?"

The vulnerability in his question caught me off guard. I reached up to touch his face, making sure he met my eyes as I answered. "No. I would still choose you. I will always choose you."

The tension in his features eased, and he turned his head to press a kiss into my palm. "Then tell him that. Not about us, perhaps, but that your heart is elsewhere. Make it clear there's no future there."

I nodded, knowing he was right but dreading the conversation nonetheless. "I will."

Tarshi's arms tightened around me, and I leaned into his strength, letting myself be held. The problems remained—my mission, my conflicted feelings about Jalend, the secrets still between me and Tarshi—but for the first time in weeks, I didn't feel like I was facing them entirely alone.

"One day," he promised, his voice a low rumble against my ear, "when we've built the world we're fighting for, I'll be able to claim you openly. Without fear, without hiding. It's why I fight so hard, Liv. For a future where we can all be truly free."

I wanted to believe in that future. It seemed so distant, so impossible, and yet Tarshi spoke of it with such conviction that I couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope.

"Stay with me tonight," I whispered. "I don't care if it's dangerous. I don't care if someone sees you leaving in the morning. I need you here."

He hesitated only briefly before nodding. "I'll stay."

We lay down together on my narrow bed, our bodies fitting together with the familiar ease of long practice. His arm draped over my waist, pulling me back against his chest, his warmth enveloping me like a shield against the world.

"What about Arilius?" I asked quietly, the darkness of the room making it easier to voice my deepest fear. "The nightmares. The guilt. Will that ever go away?"

Tarshi's lips pressed against my hair, a gentle pressure. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I do know that you're more than what you've done. More than what was done to you. And whatever demons haunt your dreams, you don't have to face them alone."

His words weren't a magical solution, but they were a comfort nonetheless. The weight of Arilius's death would likely never leave me entirely, but perhaps with time, with love, it would become bearable.

As sleep began to claim me, Tarshi's steady heartbeat against my back, his breath warm against my neck, I realized that whatever path I chose—vengeance or something else entirely—I wouldn't have to walk it alone. And perhaps that made all the difference.

For the first time in weeks, I slept without dreaming of blood.