Page 52 of The Throne Seeker (Vallorian #1)

R ose went to the stables the next morning, doing her best not to let herself spiral into a dark place.

She contained the tears that threatened to surface as she stared at the empty stall next to hers.

Zareb should be here riding with her. It wasn’t fair.

None of this was fair. She mounted her horse, heading off for a long ride along the beach.

A dark storm was rolling in, driving the waves onto the shore with a heightened force.

The wind whipped her blue dress around as she galloped along the beach, pushing the white horse to its limits, like if she just rode a little faster, she could outrun it all.

It wasn’t until raindrops began to pelt her face that she slowed down, first to a trot and eventually to a walk.

Rose gazed out at the stormy horizon. After leaving the celebration last night, she hadn’t spoken to anyone—not even her mother, although she had heard her and Thea whispering when they thought she was asleep.

Her mother had mentioned that Tristan had gone into a rage over the announcement and had refused to sign the treaty.

He had even attempted to visit her, but her mother wouldn’t let him in.

She didn’t know if she should feel glad or sad about the fact—she almost wished she didn’t feel anything.

She was so full of grief, she was empty.

She patted her horse, her cold, numb fingers brushing its coarse hair. She knew what she needed to do.

She just didn’t know if she had the strength to do it.

A figure appeared in the distance; it was Tristan, riding toward her as she had requested, answering her call.

She knew he would always answer her call.

He didn’t stop until his horse was beside hers. He was wearing his new shiny crown—another punch to the gut. “I looked all over for you last night, but your mother said you were already asleep by the time I was able to get away… We need to talk.”

She peered up at the dark-gray clouds, poised to empty at any moment. “Yes, but not here. Come on, I’ll race you.” She craned her head before she took off towards the old ruins.

Though her response had caught him off guard, he recovered quickly, urging his steed to follow hers.

They raced each other like they had when they were young, when they didn’t have a care in the world, when it was just them.

When nothing else mattered.

The ruins came into view. A good thing, too, because just as they arrived, the gentle rain turned into a downpour, forming large mud puddles that splashed onto the hem of her dress.

They took cover in the largest open room, its walls draped with familiar green vines and tiny white flowers.

Silently, they tied their horses to the arched pillars holding up the crumbling building while rain drummed on the exposed ceiling above them.

She gathered her courage as she turned to meet Tristan’s gaze.

In that moment, she tried to just be . She tried to memorize him—how his hair lay upon his head, how his blue eyes gleamed when he smiled, the addicting smell of his fresh forest scent.

He stepped forward, and within seconds, he was holding her.

She slid her arms around his neck in response, pressing him into her as hard as she could, as if to make sure he knew how much he meant to her.

His arms responded with the same need, crushing her body into his as he spread his fingers wide on her back.

She leaned back to look into his eyes. They ensnared hers, dragging her down—down so far she feared she might get lost, never to be free of them. His eyes were sure to haunt her memory forever.

She bridged the distance between them, kissing him, taking what she wanted for the first time in her life, and damning the consequences. She attempted to convey all the love she had for him through it, committing the taste of his lips to memory.

She pulled back, and Tristan’s lips slid up into a half smile. She stared at his mouth, memorizing the creases there.

His smile faded as he gazed at her uneasily. “You’d better stop looking at me like that, or I won’t be responsible for what happens next.” He was half teasing, half serious.

She snapped out of her daze. “I’m sorry.”

He tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “No, I’m the one who is sorry,” Tristan apologized without hesitation. “I don’t know what came over me. I should’ve never treated you like that.”

She put her finger over his lips as she shook her head, dismissing it. “I forgive you,” she whispered, accepting his apology, her thumb brushing his lower lip.

His breaths became shallow as desire shone through his eyes. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

“I’m just trying to remember you like this… Mine.”

His body went rigid as his eyes darkened. “No.” He took an immediate step back, swatting her hand away. “Not you, too.”

Her saddened eyes gave her away. “I know how much you care about me?—”

“You have no idea how much I care about you, how much I think about you, how much I crave you.” He cut her off with a low rough voice.

She reached to touch him again, but he took another step back.

“I don’t want to say it, just as much as you don’t want to hear it.” She kept her voice steady. “But you and I both know you must sign the treaty. If you don’t, everything—the succession, the war, the resources, all the men who have been lost—will have been for nothing.”

“You want me to marry her ?” he spat, repulsed.

“Damn it, Rose. Do you think anyone in this world could compare to you? After drowning in your eyes? After tasting your lips? After feeling your skin under my fingertips? You think I could even stomach wanting to be remotely near any woman other than you?”

He wasn’t going to make this easy. As much as she selfishly reveled in his words, she had to dissuade him from thinking that way. “I don’t want to think about you with someone else either,” Rose admitted. “But this is bigger than you and I, Tristan. It always has been.”

“We can leave,” he said in distress. It was like she could see his mind reeling through his eyes. “We don’t have to stay here. We can leave right now, just you and me.”

Her heart wilted that he would offer such a thing. It wasn’t that easy.

“Where would we go? What would we do? What of my mother? Of your family? What happens to Cathan? To all of Vallor? We can’t just run away. You must stay; you are the king Cathan needs. I saw it in the challenges, and so did the high council. The only reason they were against you is because of me.”

Tristan’s face turned vile. “All I care about is you. None of this is worth it if I can’t have you. None of it. ”

Rose avoided getting sucked into the whirlpool of his deep-blue eyes.

She’d known he loved her, but she didn’t realize just how much until he looked at her like that.

Until his voice cracked like a crevice forming a canyon, until his shallow breaths gasped for a lick of air, until his anger rippled like a violent storm.

It was all living proof he loved her with everything he had.

But sometimes… that kind of love was more than passion.

It was dangerous.

“What will become of you?” he asked. “What will you do? You and your mother will have nothing. You’ll be—” His eyes widened with realization. “You’ll marry Grant,” he seethed through his teeth.

She shook her head, dismissing it. “It doesn’t matter who I marry. This isn’t about me.”

“Of course it matters!” he roared.

She simply looked at him as sorrow filled her.

“You can’t do this to me.” Tristan’s eyes grew as wild as a forest fire.

“Ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew I had to have you. I’ve been in love with you for fourteen years.

Fourteen years. It’s cruel to make me fall so hard only for you to rip it from my hands.

I can’t just unlove you. I can’t forget the way your smile sends me into a frenzy.

Forget how your beautiful voice seeps into my soul with every word.

Forget how your mouth tastes like life itself. ”

Rose’s vision blurred with tears. She looked out into the rain as she pressed her lips together, but she said nothing.

“Do you feel nothing for me?” he asked, softer this time. “Tell me, have I just been blind? Has this all just been one-sided? Some fantasy in my own mind?”

“No,” she said at once. “I love you, Tristan. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

“Then why are you doing this?” he cried. “Why aren’t you fighting for me? For us? Why are you giving up so easily?”

“The past couple of months have been anything but easy.” She blinked furiously to keep the tears from spilling out.

“Ever since I walked through those doors, I’ve fought tooth and nail for you.

I’m just… I’m not like you. I’m not made for this court life—all the rules, all the expectations, all the judgments.

The constant threats that surround us. I try not to let what people say bother me, but it hurts more than I let on, and I’m tired of it.

I’m tired of trying to fit in where I’m not wanted. ”

Tristan took a step towards her. “Why haven’t you ever mentioned this? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I thought I could do it. I thought I could force myself to be what you need because I love you so much, and I didn’t want you not to go through with the succession because of me. I know this is who you are meant to be… I’m just not sure if it’s meant for me.”

Tristan took a step back, picking up on where she was going with this. “What are you saying? You don’t want to marry me?”

Rose’s heart wrenched in her chest. “I don’t know how?—”

“You don’t want me because I’m going to be king?” His voice was raised, infuriated.

Her feelings of inadequacy spilled out in one sentence. “No, I don’t know if I can marry you because I don’t know if I can be queen.”

He paused as a new demon rose within him. “I’ll gladly give this crown back.” He ripped off the golden successor’s crown from his head and shoved it at her. “Take it. I don’t want it without you.”