Page 20

CHAPTER TWENTY

J essamin looked down at her hand, so small and pale in Ulric’s huge green palm, and then up at his face. He looked utterly shattered, his golden eyes shadowed with a pain that mirrored her own.

“I don’t want there to be any more secrets between us,” he said. “There is something else you need to know.”

She didn’t trust her voice so she simply nodded.

“I told you your father sent an envoy. It wasn’t simply to tell me to keep you safe. He believes that Lasseran plans to use your blood in a blood ritual.”

Her knees threatened to give way, but his hands held her steady. She’d known her uncle wanted her but she’d never really known why.

“My blood?” she whispered.

“Yes. A ritual that would allow him to control all of those who suffer from the Beast Curse. Not only the orcs of Norhaven, but the army of orcs he created as well.”

Her mind raced, trying to process the enormity of what he was telling her. Her blood. Her uncle wanted to control thousands with her blood.

“But how?” she asked, and he gave her a frustrated look.

“We don’t know. Just frustrating hints from goddesses and half-mad old women. ‘Blood, bone, and breath.’ ‘A blood moon ritual.’ ‘A stone circle.’ But the details don’t matter. What matters is that I am never going to let him get his hands on you. You are my wife.”

“Am I? Your wife?” she whispered. “Not just a political asset? A duty you must bear for your kingdom?”

He flinched as if she’d struck him, his eyes darkening with pain.

“You are so much more than that,” he said, his voice low and fierce. “You are my heart, my soul, my reason for being. I’m not worthy of your love, but I swear I will spend every day of my life striving to be.”

Her own heart clenched at his words. She had been so certain she’d lost him—that what was between them had been destroyed—but the anguish in his eyes, the raw honesty with which he’d confessed his fears…

He was still the same male who had turned to her for comfort.

Trusting him again would require an act of courage, but she was a queen.

Courage was in her blood. And he was her husband. Her love.

“I believe you,” she said, and his shoulders sagged with relief. “But how can we stop Lasseran if we don’t know what his plans are?”

“We find out what his plans are,” he said, a grim determination settling over his features. “We hunt him down. We end this, once and for all. You won’t need to fear him anymore.”

“I thought—” She couldn’t finish, her voice breaking on a sob.

He moved then, closing the last distance between them. His powerful arms wrapped around her, gathering her against his chest. She went willingly, all resistance melting away as he cradled her against him.

She wept against his chest, her tears soaking into his tunic. All the fear, all the hurt, all the years of hiding her heritage—it poured out of her in great, wracking sobs. And through it all, he simply held her, one big hand stroking her hair, the other a warm anchor at her back.

“I was so afraid,” she confessed between sobs. “All my life, I’ve lived with the shadow of his blood in my veins. I thought if anyone knew, they would see only that. Not me.”

“I see you,” he whispered fiercely. “I should have trusted what I saw. Not the lies, not the fears, but you. The woman who faced a wounded Beast without flinching. The queen who stood tall when her king fell. The wife who—” His voice broke. “The wife who offered comfort when I needed it most.”

Her sobs gradually quieted, replaced by the occasional hiccup. She didn’t pull away, and neither did he. They remained locked together, her face pressed to his chest, his chin resting on her head. The steady beat of his heart beneath her ear was still the most comforting sound she’d ever heard.

“I thought you were going to have me imprisoned. Or worse,” she whispered.

“Never. Even at my most suspicious, I could never—” He pulled back slightly, his big hands framing her face. “You are my queen. My wife.” His thumbs gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. “And if you’ll still have me, my heart.”

Fresh tears welled in her eyes, but these were different—warm with hope rather than cold with despair.

“The letter,” she said suddenly, remembering.

“It was a forgery,” he confirmed, his expression darkening. “A masterful one. Part of Lasseran’s plot to divide us.”

“And I almost let him succeed.” She reached up, touching his face, tracing the strong line of his jaw. “I was so hurt, so angry.”

“You had every right to be.” He turned his face, pressing a kiss to her palm. “I failed you. I let my fears rule me instead of my heart.”

She shook her head. “We both let fear come between us. I should have told you about my connection to Lasseran from the beginning.”

“You had no reason to trust me with that secret. I gave you no reason.” Those fierce golden eyes looked at her with such tender remorse that it made her heart ache. “But no more secrets between us. No more walls.”

Still holding her close, he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face.

“Lasseran tried to poison us with lies,” he said, his voice a low vow. “Let us wash it away. There is an old ritual. A promise.” His eyes searched hers. “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked, though in truth, she would have followed him anywhere in that moment.

“The sacred springs beneath the palace. It is a place where truth is spoken and bonds are renewed.” He hesitated. “If you are willing.”

She thought of all they’d been through—the suspicion, the fear, the painful revelations. And now, this chance to begin anew, to wash away the poison of doubt.

“Yes,” she said simply, taking his hand in hers. “I’m willing.”

He smiled then, a true smile that transformed his stern features, making him look younger, unburdened. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a reverent kiss to her knuckles.

“Then come, my queen,” he said softly. “Let us make a new beginning.”