Page 45

Chapter 45

AESON DROPS BOTH OF OUR packs onto the large bed that’s pushed up against the far wall. He starts to look around, peeking behind the door we just entered through before he wanders over to a solitary armchair that’s sitting in front of an unlit fireplace. From there, he strides into the attached bathroom like he’s clearing it of potential attackers. I have no idea why he’s doing any of this; if there were someone in here other than us, he’d hear or smell them, but I keep my mouth shut and take in the view of the Fae Gate from the window. It looks so innocuous right now, so deceptively dormant. How could something so simple be responsible for so much desolation and destruction?

I can’t even imagine what it would have been like for this gate to appear out of nowhere and then release an army intent on destroying everything in its wake. The number of humans that were lost in the waves of the first strike were staggering. More than two-thirds of their total population perished before the dragons and the other Arcs were able to best the fae and send them back where they belong.

Aeson finishes his search, and I watch him in the reflection of the glass as he tosses a fireball into the fireplace. A small pile of wood that’s already been stacked within quickly becomes a cozy crackling fire, and then the commander fixes his attention on me.

“Want to tell me what your plan is with the Blood Crafter tomorrow?” Aeson asks.

I turn to face him. “Want to tell me why you have a Blood Crafter residing at the base camp of the Fae Gate?”

“It’s classified,” he answers, walking over to the window I’m next to and tapping the glass twice until it shifts from transparent to opaque.

“Classified?” I challenge, studying the scion. “So I’m allowed to stand in front of the fucking Fae Gate of all places and have a meeting with this mysterious Matron Relacour, but I’m not allowed to know what she’s doing here?”

“Sounds about right.” Aeson shrugs and then nods toward a side table near the head of the bed. “You can keep your weapons there.”

“Is your father hiding her here or protecting her?” I ask, disarming myself of my arsenal and setting everything neatly on the table while I try to make sense of what’s going on.

If the king was trying to hide the sorcai, this place would be the best option for it. It’s secluded, fortified, impenetrable. But why would he be willing to do that?

“He’s not protecting her, just the gate,” Aeson surprisingly answers.

“So she’s connected to the gate somehow?” I question, even more confused.

“Not her specifically,” he supplies cryptically from where he’s leaning against the wall, watching me.

I throw my hands up, frustrated. “I have no idea what that means.”

“Because you’re not supposed to. It’s classified ,” he repeats, and I fight the urge to chuck a dagger at him.

“As your mate , shouldn’t I know what the fuck is going on?”

Aeson is suddenly in front of me. I jerk back, but the wall behind me makes it so there’s nowhere to go. His muscular arms cage me in and he leans down until I’m hopelessly locked in his gaze.

“Yes, you should, but I don’t think you want to play that card right now. Not when I know you’re not telling me everything. And don’t bother denying it; I know you’re up to something, I can fucking feel it.”

“Of course I’m up to something, I’m trying to break this stars-forsaken curse. Why is that so hard for you to believe?” I snap, beyond fed up. “I want to be whole. I want what was stolen from me. I don’t know what else you think I’m doing here, but you’re wrong. This is about the curse. It’s only ever been about the bloody curse! And don’t look at me like that,” I snap when his eyes narrow at me and that tic in his jaw pulses from the effort of biting back an argument.

I try to move out from the cage of his arms, but he traps me once again.

Fine. Here we go.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be half of yourself,” I thunder up at him. “To feel the power searing through your veins but never being able to reach it. To know that vital parts of who you are, who you’re supposed to be, have been stolen from you!”

My voice cracks as I press a palm over my heart. I hate the hurt and vulnerability visible through my fissures, but he needs to understand. I need him to see all the ways I’m broken, that I will never stop trying to fix what’s been done to me for as long as I fucking live.

“Every time my dragon reaches for you but can’t get to you, it crushes me. When I watch my own kind soaring through the skies, when they reveal but I can’t, it kills me. I can’t heal. I can’t manifest an affinity. I can’t fucking protect myself,” I yell, a tear spilling down my cheek. “I walk around wearing a charm to hide what’s been done to me because I couldn’t stop it. I should have been able to stop it! I’m half of what I should be, fractured in a way you refuse to see or understand. I don’t give a fuck about the Fae Gate. I don’t have an ulterior motive. I want to be a Syphon, not a shadow of one. I want to be me .”

Anger slips from Aeson’s features, and his eyes soften. He wipes at the tears trickling down my cheeks, and then he pulls me to him, wrapping himself around me and squeezing me tightly to his chest. My arms automatically go around his waist, and I hold him just as hard. I press my face into his chest, burrowing against his warm scale armor, breathing him in, letting his presence, his scent, and his touch soothe me.

We stand like that for a while, neither of us speaking, neither of us letting go.

“Is this all we’ll ever have? Secrets and mistrust?” I murmur, breaking the silence, the sadness, and the uncertainty that’s wrapped around us. But I don’t know if the question is aimed at Aeson or if I’m asking myself.

“I don’t want that,” he confesses quietly, placing a soft kiss on the top of my head. “But every time I think we’re getting somewhere, there are more secrets.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Aeson,” I whisper, meaning it. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I add because the distinction matters too.

“Then let me in, Ever,” he pleads, and I close my eyes against the ache in his voice.

I look up at him, needing him to see the truth in my eyes. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy, not for me, but it has to go both ways. I’m not the only one holding back.”

He sighs and places a kiss on my forehead. “Okay,” he concedes. “I can accept that. We don’t have to figure everything out tonight. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” A cheeky smirk slips across his face. “Fucking like a god really takes it out of you.”

I bark out a laugh and then groan, pressing my forehead to his chest in mild mortification. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

His laughter vibrates through me, and I can’t help my smile. Carefully he starts deconstructing my bun. He pulls the band free and runs his fingers through the twisted tresses. I bite back a moan and lean into him while he rubs my scalp and finger combs tangles from my hair.

“Not a chance. I’m adding it to my business cards,” he deadpans.

I snort and playfully slap his hard stomach. “You don’t have business cards.”

His hands drop to my shoulders and then move to the back of my neck. Deft fingers find the hidden zipper on my bodysuit and start pulling it down.

“Are you one of those guys that will become pure marshmallow fluff when it’s just the two of us, but the minute anyone else is around, you’re an asshole?” I ask as I step back and pull my arms out of my suit but hold the loose top to my chest.

His blue eyes flare as they trace the planes of my shoulders. “Was I an asshole?” he rasps, reaching for me, but I sidestep his grasp and move toward my pack.

“From the minute you saw Raeger in your rookery,” I answer, pulling out my sleep shirt and sliding it over my head.

His scale armor slowly begins to recede, the plates slipping back into his skin until his upper body is bare. I stare at every delectable curve and dip and completely lose my train of thought.

“You have your ways to protect yourself, I have mine. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole; I was just trying to figure out what you and my father were up to,” he defends.

“We’re not up to anything.”

Aeson’s smile makes the butterflies in my stomach swoon.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Claws. My father is always up to something. It’s often for the good of his family, The Horde, or Drameric in general, but cunning is an understatement when it comes to him.”

“I see where you get it then. Always ten annoying steps ahead of everyone at every turn,” I observe and pull off the rest of my suit so I can slip my shorts on.

Aeson groans. “Why are you never wearing underwear?” he demands, and I laugh.

“Makes it easier to fuck with you.”

“Fuck with me or fuck me?” he counters huskily.

Grabbing a blanket and a pillow off the bed, I shoot him a wink. “Both work for me when you’re not being a dick.”

He clutches his chest like I just struck a wound. “You know you like my dick,” he argues with a cocksure grin.

I snort out a laugh and move over to the chair in front of the fireplace, pushing it out of the way so I have more room for my bed. I lay the blanket down and then the pillow.

“What are you doing?” Aeson asks, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Uh…going to sleep,” I answer cautiously.

“On the floor?” he objects, striding closer like he’s going to snatch my bedding away.

I step in front of him, blocking his access. “Yes, on the floor. I have an issue with beds. I’m sure I’ll get over it eventually, but right now, the floor is the only place I actually get some sleep, and I really need rest. I’m running on fumes. Turns out being fucked by a god really takes it out of you.”

Aeson laughs, like I hoped he would, and some of his shock and indignation deflates.

“Fine,” he sighs, walking over to the bed and pulling off the rest of the bedding and the other pillow.

“Wait, what are you doing?” I protest as he stomps over and lays everything out like I just did.

“What does it look like? I’m sleeping with you,” he explains, like it should be obvious.

“But…I don’t…I’m not a cuddler,” I supply awkwardly.

“Then we won’t cuddle, but I’m sleeping next to you, Claws. Get over it.”

I let loose a resigned sigh and lie down, pulling the blanket over me and settling in. Aeson follows suit and then he snakes an arm under my head and pulls my back to his chest, making himself comfortable all around me.

“I thought we addressed this and reached a no cuddling solution?” I complain as he relaxes around me.

“We’re not cuddling. I’m just holding you for a couple minutes.”

I huff out a laugh. “How many minutes are we talking here?”

“It’ll be over before you know it. Five minutes tops.”

I snicker, but I don’t push him away. As much as this changes nothing between us, I need the reprieve more than I can say. Later we can go back to the battling and omissions and wariness. But right now, we can just be Bonded Mates lying together with no complications, no mess, no distrust.

I relax against him and close my eyes.

I can do this. No biggie.

Five minutes won’t kill me.