Page 38 of The Crown of the Last Fae Queen (The Heartless and the Wicked #4)

NINETEEN – KOLFINNA

On the way back to her room, Kolfinna tried to memorize every step, every turn in the corridor, the familiar paintings or décor lining the walls and floors, but she could barely focus on any of it, not when she could feel Blár’s stare.

Her skin tingled with heat and she had to suppress the urge to look over her shoulder at him.

She had so many questions. How had he acquired such a position without anyone noticing?

Did Gunnar have a hand in this? What were their next steps?

All of it was eclipsed by her desire to see him, though, to talk to him, to touch him.

So when she entered her antechambers, bid Astrid good night as she left, she sat on her velvet couch and waited.

Surely Blár would sneak in here and talk to her.

Surely he had to be feeling the same need as he did.

She nearly burned on the spot, her hands clammy and trembling, her body quivering with anticipation and coiled anxieties.

She didn’t have to wait long.

Blár entered the room and locked the door behind him, his attention never straying from hers.

She rose up to her feet, watching the way he drank in her image.

His eyes trailed up her body, lingering on her curves, before landing on her face.

She did the same and examined him from head to toe.

The dark leathers hugged his muscular frame, stretching over his broad shoulders, the muscles on his chest and arms, and made him appear more fierce, more intimidating.

His dark hair was slicked back to bring more attention to his eyes, which were nearly dark with desire, the deep blue flashing with intent.

“Blár,” she whispered, taking a step closer.

He broke the distance and collected her in his arms in a split second.

Tearing the mask down to his chin, he crushed his lips against hers.

Kolfinna could barely breathe against the desire blooming in her chest, ready to burst. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she brought him closer; she needed more .

She kissed him deeper, her tongue tangling with his, her body needing to be flush with him.

All of her worries disappeared as she fell into his arms. All she could focus on was the taste of his mouth against hers, the feel of his hands traveling from her waist to the small of her back, and the safeness she felt with him.

He grabbed her waist tightly and pulled her closer, as if he could read the longing steaming from her, nearly overpowering her senses.

She grasped onto the front of his black tunic and splayed her hands against his lean figure, running her fingers over his back.

His mouth moved against hers—hard, rough, bridging the days they had been apart.

When she drew back to breathe, he cupped her face in his hands, sharp eyes studying her.

He angled his head and kissed her again, this time more gently, and her eyelids fluttered shut.

His touch was electric, coursing through her body and warming her lower belly.

She dragged her fingers through his hair, moaning softly against his mouth.

Her knees weakened when they pulled away again. This time, he brushed back a stray hair behind her ear and didn’t make a move to kiss her again.

“You’re here,” she whispered, tracing the side of his face with trembling fingers. “I was waiting for you.”

Blár grimaced as if those words haunted him and he pulled her closer into an embrace.

“I wanted to lie low so as not to alert your guards that something was wrong. But if I had only come to you that day—” Fury laced his words.

“Then those bastards wouldn’t have hurt you.

Do you know how close I was to killing them myself when I found out?

It’s a shame they were already dead by that point. ”

She wondered how he had reacted to hearing news of her near-death experience, and something fluttered in her chest at the thought of him being worried about her.

She shouldn’t have thought like that, but she couldn’t help herself.

The insecure part of herself still felt like it was a dream that Blár reciprocated her feelings.

Kolfinna smiled despite herself. “You were worried about me?”

“Of course I was worried,” he said, voice low. He twisted a strand of her wavy hair between his fingers and rubbed it slowly, as if the black could fade away into white. His voice wavered, and he whispered hoarsely, “I thought—I thought I’d lost you.”

The sorrow in his voice was nearly palpable.

Her lower lip wobbled and she wanted to pull him into her arms. Guilt wormed into her chest; she hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him her real identity, while he was risking his life to protect and save her.

How could she have ever doubted him? Her heart ached.

“I’m sorry, Blár.” Her throat tightened and she couldn’t form the words to express it.

“Don’t apologize. You didn’t send those assassins to yourself,” he said it in a teasing manner, but his tone was grim and his expression taut. He led her to the couch and made her sit down, then eased himself beside her. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“Hilda sent them.”

He hadn’t expected it. His eyes widened, then narrowed as he snarled, “Hilda? That conniving?—”

“I know.” She rested her hand on his cheek, and then explained everything that had happened that night.

How the man had entered her room, how two more had come in, how Yrsa had died, and how Vidar had healed her.

She still couldn’t believe Yrsa was dead.

She had been friends with her back when they both were Royal Guards, and yet she didn’t feel much for her, not after how the woman had tried to kill her all those months ago.

Her head was spinning by the time she finished telling him everything.

Blár rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, his dark brows drawn together in deep thought.

When he finally flicked his gaze to hers, a cold winter tundra stormed within them.

“Hilda wants to kill you because you’re the heir to the fae throne.

Many people, unfortunately, feel the same way.

There are those that believe differently—myself included. ”

It was something she had feared, but hearing the words out loud made her shoulders drop.

“You …” He sighed and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders were rigid, his muscles taut like he was holding himself back. But the reins were loosening, and his eyes were darkening. “You might be safer here than with … the humans.”

The words stole the breath from her lungs. She clenched her hands together. She too had a semblance of an idea that she was safe here. That for all of Vidar’s villainy, he actually cared for her. Maybe more than just a tool.

Kolfinna struggled to find the words. “Are … are you saying I have no place there? Among the humans?”

“No, no, not that.” But the pained look on his face told another story.

He gently brushed back a loose curl behind her ear, his attention lingering on the white strand.

“Everyone is split on what to believe. Some would rather you die, others want you to fight. Even if you didn’t have the power to free the wicked queen, you would still be a target since you are her daughter. ”

“So what should I do? Remain here?” Even saying those words out loud made her spirit wither.

All her anxieties reared their ugly heads.

Doubts filled her mind. Everyone in the fae armies wanted her alive, most likely for her ability to free the queen, but also partly because she was the heir to their throne.

But the humans … could she even trust them?

“I need more power,” Blár said suddenly.

He reclined on the couch and clasped his hands together so tightly they turned bloodlessly white.

Despite the runes keeping his magic at bay, the temperature in the room chilled suddenly.

“I can protect you once I’m in a higher position.

I might be physically the most powerful person in the kingdom, potentially toe to toe with Fenris, but I have no power to protect you if the king decides to execute you.

As I am now, I can’t—” He slammed his fist on his thigh and cursed, staring off at the flames licking the logs in the room.

“Blár …” She rested a gentle hand atop his.

He turned to her slowly, the rage and grief visible, nearly tangible. “I can’t protect you as I am now. Even being here goes against direct orders.”

“You’re telling me that it’s too dangerous for me to join the human side of war.

” Her whole body quivered and the back of her eyes burned.

She shifted her attention to the giant windows; a sliver of the night sky was visible where the brocade curtains nearly touched.

She flattened her wobbling lips into a firm line.

“What was the point of everything ? I joined the Eventyrslot ruins so I could have freedom, I became a Royal Guard so I could normalize the fae, I joined the military and I fought for this kingdom—” Her vision blurred with tears and she inhaled sharply.

“And for everyone to basically decide that it’s best if I’m dead ? What future have I been fighting for?”

Vidar had been right. The humans would never accept her.

They would kill every last one of the fae.

They would never allow for a future where the fae and humans prospered together.

They’d only tolerated her because of her useful fae powers in the Eventyrslot ruins, in the Royal Guard, and even the military.

But now that her usefulness was finished, she was better off dead. They would never see her as an equal.

The reality crushed her.

Tears spilled down her cheeks and she didn’t try to hide them. Blár wrapped one arm around her waist and tugged her onto his lap easily. He framed her face in his hands and brushed the tears away.