Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
The cool evening air nipped at my skin as I stood outside, facing the makeshift target Rhydian had set up. The sky above was painted in shades of lavender and orange as the sun dipped below the horizon. I had been at this for what felt like hours, trying to hone my control over the ice blades that formed at my fingertips. It was one thing to practice with a blade, to master the feel of cold steel in my hand—but my power was different, something more unpredictable, more precarious.
Rhydian stood off to the side, arms crossed, his usual look of disgruntled annoyance plastered across his face. He watched me with a mixture of impatience and concern, barking out instructions in his gruff, no-nonsense tone. “Empty your mind,” he called out, the irritation clear in his voice. “Stop thinking so much. Just focus on the target.”
“I’m trying,” I grumbled, my jaw clenched as I formed another ice blade in my hand. It shimmered in the fading light, a cold, deadly thing, but as I aimed for the target, my thoughts kept intruding, unbidden and startling.
Ciaran.
The kiss replayed over and over in my mind—the way his lips had moved against mine, the heat of his touch, the raw hunger in his eyes.
I hated it.
The idea of it.
The lies behind it.
I threw the ice blade, and it shattered before it even reached the target, disintegrating into a flurry of frozen shards.
Rhydian let out a low growl of frustration, pacing in front of me like a caged wolf. “What’s wrong with you? You’re off tonight,” he snapped. “No focus.”
I clenched my fists, the cold of my magic biting into my palms, prickling at the edges of my control. I fought to push it down, to keep the storm brewing inside from spilling out, but it was getting harder. Everything was getting harder. “I’m fine,” I spat.
Rhydian stopped, turning to face me. “Fine?” he repeated, the disbelief clear in his voice. “You’re far from fine, and we both know it.” His eyes narrowed as he studied me, his gaze like a dagger, slicing through my defenses. “You’ve been a wreck since—” He hesitated, and I could see him trying to choose his words carefully. “Since whatever happened between you and the king.”
I stiffened, my heart lurching painfully in my chest at the mention of Ciaran. His name alone sent a rush of conflicting emotions through me—guilt, anger, confusion, and something deeper that I didn’t want to acknowledge. I could feel Rhydian watching me, waiting for a response, but I wasn’t about to give him one.
“Unless you decide to actually be with me, Rhydian, it’s none of your business,” I mumbled.
Rhydian wasn’t having it. He stepped closer, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over me. His jaw was set, that stubborn, unyielding way he had when he wasn’t going to let something go. “Do you like him?”
“What?” I spun on him. “No. I don’t like him.”
Rhydian’s eyes darkened, the tension between us coiling tighter with every second. His voice dropped lower, rougher, as if he could see through the lie before I even finished speaking. “You’re lying.”
“It’s not real. He’s just using me.”
Rhydian’s jaw clenched, his fists flexing at his sides as he took another step forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel the overwhelming presence he carried. “But you want it to be real. What if he finds out who you really are, huh?”
The words stung. The truth behind them twisted deep inside me, the weight of the lie I was living pressing down harder. I fought to keep the guilt from showing, to keep my expression blank, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep up the charade.
“He won’t find out.” I said, my voice trembling with the effort it took to hold back the emotions that threatened to overwhelm me.
Rhydian let out a bitter laugh, his lips twisting into a grim smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think you’ve forgotten why you’re here.” He leaned in. “You’re not Aeliana. You’re the handmaiden who grew up in the crypts. And you—” His voice dropped lower, rougher, and there was something almost possessive in the way he looked at me. “Are worth more than he realizes.”
His words slammed into me, knocking the air from my lungs. I took a step back, trying to put some distance between us, but Rhydian wasn’t letting me go that easily. “I saw it,” he growled, his voice low and rough, vibrating through the air like the start of a storm.
My stomach twisted, a sharp pang of dread cutting through me. “You saw?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He took a step closer, his broad frame filling the space between us. The intensity in his eyes burned hotter, sharper, as though the memory alone was enough to light something dark inside him. “I saw him kiss you,” he said, his tone laced with venom. “I saw the way he grabbed you, like you were his to take. Like he thought he could claim you.”
I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening as he stepped closer still, the heat of his anger radiating off him in waves.
“And do you want to know what I wanted to do, Elara?” His voice dipped lower, rough and dangerous, each word slicing through the air between us. “I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to rip him off you, put my fist through his smug face, and remind him that he doesn’t own you. That no one owns you.”
I stared at him, my chest tightening as the fire in his gaze flickered with something darker, something possessive.
Rhydian’s jaw tightened, and his hands flexed at his sides like he was holding himself back from punching something—maybe the wall, maybe the ghost of the moment that had clearly consumed him. “And the worst fucking part?” he continued, his voice a growl now. “I couldn’t do anything. I just had to stand there and watch him touch you, watch him kiss you like he had the right, while every bone in my body screamed at me to break him.”
My breath caught in my throat, the weight of his words pressing down on me, and I hated the way they stirred something deep inside me.
“But then…” Rhydian’s voice softened, turning rougher, more vulnerable. His eyes bored into mine, sharp and unrelenting. “I saw the way you froze. The hesitation in your eyes. And I knew you didn’t want it. He made you cry, Elara. How could you like someone like that?”
“I…” My words faltered, my throat tightening as he took another step closer, his presence overwhelming.
“If you’d wanted it,” he said, his tone low and steady now, the storm in his eyes softening but not fading, “I would have accepted it. Hated it, maybe, but I would’ve let it go. But you didn’t. I saw it in the way your body went stiff, the way you didn’t lean into him, the way you just—stood there.” He shook his head, his voice dipping even lower, intimate and sharp. “A kiss isn’t supposed to do that. It’s supposed to make you melt .”
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening as his words wrapped around me, each one hitting like a deliberate blow.
Rhydian took one more step forward, so close now that I could feel the heat of him, the tension between us vibrating like a taut string ready to snap. “If you wanted it, Elara,” he murmured, his voice softer now, his words brushing against my skin like a caress, “you wouldn’t be standing here, looking at me like you don’t know what the hell you’re doing.”
My heart pounded in my chest, my breath shallow as I stared up at him, unable to look away. “What are you saying, Rhydian?” I whispered, my voice trembling.
“I’m saying…” His gaze flicked to my lips, then back to my eyes, his voice dropping even lower, a rasp of longing and frustration. “If you’re going to kiss someone, Elara, make sure it’s because you want it. Make sure it’s real. Don’t let him take something from you just because he can.”
I stared at Rhydian, his words swirling in the air between us, heavy and raw, making it impossible to look away. My heart pounded against my ribs, every beat pushing me closer to a choice I wasn’t sure I was ready to make. And yet, something in his confession, in the way his voice trembled with restraint and longing, lit a fire inside me.
I looked at him, my breath steadying, my chest tightening with a new kind of resolve. “May I kiss you, Rhydian?” I asked, my voice soft but firm, the words deliberate, unyielding.
His eyes widened just slightly, his throat working as he swallowed hard. For a moment, he didn’t speak, the air between us charged and alive, the tension so thick it was almost tangible. Then, finally, his voice came, rough and quiet, breaking like gravel across stone. “Yes,” he rasped.
The single word hung between us, and I felt it settle deep inside me, grounding me in the moment. Slowly, deliberately, I closed the space between us, my heart hammering in my chest as I lifted up onto my toes.
This kiss wouldn’t be like the others. It wouldn’t be like the Dragon King’s—born on an island of grief, his lips stained with sorrow and desperation. It wouldn’t be like the kiss Ciaran had stolen, a display of power and control meant to claim me in front of a kingdom.
This would be mine.
I tilted my head, my hands brushing against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips. His breath hitched, and I felt the way his body tensed, how he fought to stay still, to let me lead.
The first brush of my lips against his was slow, almost hesitant, testing the boundaries between us. His breath mingled with mine, warm and shaky, and I felt the way his fists clenched at his sides, as though he were resisting the urge to grab me, to take control.
I pressed deeper, my lips soft and deliberate as I moved against his, taking my time, savoring the moment. His lips parted slightly, a low, quiet sound escaping his throat, and the warmth of him washed over me, drowning out the rest of the world.
Rhydian’s hands hovered at my sides, not quite touching me, as though he were holding himself back from crossing a line he couldn’t uncross. But I wanted him to. I wanted him to feel this, to know this wasn’t something he could doubt or question.
I tilted my head further, deepening the kiss, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His resolve cracked then, his hands finally finding my waist, his grip firm but reverent, holding me like I might disappear if he wasn’t careful.
It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t frantic. It was slow, deliberate, and consuming, a kiss that didn’t just pull me closer to him—it anchored me.
When I finally pulled back, my breath came in shallow gasps, my chest heaving as I stared up at him. His lips were slightly parted, his dark eyes hooded, filled with a fire that made my knees weak.
“That,” I whispered, my voice trembling but steady, “was for me. Not for a king. Not for a crown. Just… for me.”
Rhydian’s hands tightened at my waist, his forehead lowering to press lightly against mine, his breath mingling with mine as his chest rose and fell in unsteady rhythm. “Elara…” he started, his voice thick, but whatever he wanted to say caught in his throat. Instead, he just held me there, as though trying to memorize the moment, to sear it into his memory.
It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy. But for the first time in as long as I could remember, it felt real.
My breath trembled as I stared up at Rhydian, the heat of his hands steady on my waist, his forehead still pressed lightly to mine. The moment should have been grounding, safe—but the thoughts crept in anyway, sharp and biting, like jagged edges tearing through the fragile shell of what we’d just shared.
Would Rhydian report this to the queen?
The thought struck like a blade to my chest, the sharpness of it stealing the air from my lungs. Would he take this kiss —the first kiss that felt like mine—and turn it into currency? Something to wield against me in whispered words across an ocean?
The queen’s shadow loomed, as ever, even here, even now, and the ache in my chest swelled, bitter and suffocating. I wanted to believe him, wanted to trust the way his hands held me, the way his lips had moved against mine like a promise. But trust was a dangerous thing, and I wasn’t sure I could afford it.
I searched his eyes, dark and molten, his gaze still locked on me like I was the only thing in the world. And ancestors, for a fleeting moment, I wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that look was for me and me alone. But I’d been fooled before.
Would Rhydian take this moment—this powerful, aching, real moment—and twist it into something else? Would he strip it of its meaning, of my choice, just as others had?
Tears welled in my eyes, hot and bitter, and before I could stop them, they spilled over, trailing down my cheeks. The cold of my magic followed instinctively, freezing the tears as they fell, turning them into fragile streaks of ice against my skin.
Rhydian noticed immediately, his brow furrowing, his hands tightening on my waist. “Elara,” he rasped, his voice low and thick with concern. His hand twitched, like he wanted to touch my face, to wipe the tears away, but I jerked back before he could.
I shoved him back with a blast of freezing wind, the frost crackling through the air as it hit him square in the chest. Rhydian staggered, his breath coming out in heavy puffs of mist.
“Elara, what?—”
“No,” I said, my chest heaving as I fought to catch my breath, to steady the chaos in my mind.
Rhydian’s face twisted with confusion, his jaw tightening as his brows drew together. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, his voice rising with frustration.
I swiped at the frozen tears on my cheeks, hating the sharp sting of the ice against my skin. “I must be an idiot. I just gave you more material to report to the queen,” I said, the words breaking as they left me.
His expression shifted, darkening, the storm in his eyes swirling with anger and something deeper—hurt, maybe, though I refused to let myself believe it. “You really think I’d do that?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow in the cold air between us. “I know you would, Rhydian. You’ve done it before. You’ve taken my pain, my secrets, and handed them over without a second thought. Why would this be any different?”
His hands flexed at his sides, his jaw clenching tightly, but he didn’t deny it. He didn’t argue. And the silence, heavy and suffocating, was answer enough.
Tears threatened to spill again, but I bit them back, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I wanted this to be mine,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Just once. Just one moment that wasn’t stolen, or forced, or turned into something ugly. But you—” My voice broke, and I shook my head, the words tangling in my throat. “You’ll ruin it. Just like everything else.”
“Elara,” Rhydian said again, his voice softer now, almost pleading, but I shook my head, stepping further back, putting distance between us.
“I can’t do this,” I said, the words coming out more sharply than I intended. “Not with you. Not while I’m constantly wondering how much of what you say is real, and how much of it you’ll twist into a report for her.”
Rhydian flinched, his eyes flashing with something raw, but he didn’t move. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his chest heaving as though he was holding back everything he wanted to say, everything he wanted to do. But he stayed rooted in place, watching me with a look that made my chest ache even more.
“I’m not…” He trailed off, his voice breaking slightly, and he exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m not trying to ruin anything. Not this.”
“But you will,” I whispered, the words trembling as they left me.
The silence between us was deafening, every second dragging out like a lifetime. Rhydian’s dark eyes stayed on mine, his gaze burning with a fire that seemed to rage against the walls I’d just put between us. But he didn’t argue. He didn’t deny it.
He just stood there, silent and unmoving, as I turned away.
I felt the weight of his gaze follow me, scorching and unrelenting, even as the distance grew.