Chapter 23
My eyes sprungopen as a weight bore down on my chest. I turned my head to the side. Beside me, Fynn was sprawled across the bed, lying on his chest, with one arm propped beneath his pillow and the other atop me. He was facing the other way, but based on the dead weight of his arm, he was fast asleep.
I gingerly picked up his arm and slipped beneath it.
Tip-toeing into the bathing chambers, I quickly washed up with the rag and the leftover water in the pail. Based on the temperature of the water, none of the staff had been in the room, which I was more than thankful for despite the desire for a warm bath.
Last night, I told Fynn not to be gentle with me, and he wasn”t. But now. . .
Now I felt like I needed to wash everything that transpired last night off me.
While I didn”t necessarily regret sleeping with Fynn, I couldn”t shake the creeping feeling in my gut that last night might have been the biggest mistake either of us had made. It twisted and pulled.
We had crossed a line—a line I wasn”t sure either of us had been truly prepared to cross. It was a moment of lust, driven by the enchantment of the solstice.
I hated admitting it, even to myself, but I had never experienced anything like last night. The sex I”ve had with former partners had been fine—meaningless and quick. None had even been able to make me go over the edge before, so I was used to finishing on my own once the person had left.
But Fynn didn”t need any help.
And I hated it.
I hated it more than anything because what had happened last night was never going to happen again. It was a fluke, a blip, a one-time event.
As it should be, I told myself.
After washing up, I dressed and hurried to the door, bags in hand. With a hand wrapped around the doorknob, I peered over my shoulder, my gaze falling atop the sleeping prince.
Peace blanketed Fynn”s features.
I bit the inside of my cheek, my brows drawing together.
Then I cracked the door open and stepped out into the hall, putting the summer solstice behind me.
”Sleep well, Dani?”
I inhaled, my back hitting the door. The latch’s click was loud and piercing in the otherwise silent hall.
I quickly smoothed out my features as I spun and faced Terin. ”Yes, why do you ask?”
Terin shrugged. The skin beneath his eyes was a light shade of purple. There was no need to ask how he slept. ”You all right? You seem?—”
”I”m fine,” I spat, peeling myself away from the door. ”He”s still sleeping.”
Terin”s gaze flicked to the closed door, then to me, a question in his expression.
I gripped my bags tighter and hoped Iappeared more put together than I felt.
He yawned and rubbed a palm over his face. ”I was about to head downstairs for some tea and a quick bite. Care to join?”
”Uhm. Actually,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bag hanging on my shoulder. ”I was on my way out. I have a training I need to get to later this afternoon.”
”On the day after the solstice?”
I lifted a shoulder, then dropped it. ”I don”t make the schedule. I only follow it.”
Terin stared at me, his features a carbon copy of Fynn”s. Guilt bloomed in my stomach.
He nodded. ”Very well then. Is Fynn heading out with you?”
”Nope, only me,” I said, moving away from the door and slipping by him.
His gaze narrowed as I passed, his head tilting to the side. ”Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
I twisted my hands behind my back and forced a smile onto my face. ”I”m sure.”
”All right. Have a safe trip back.”
”You too!” I said, already racing down the steps.
I stepped inside the carriage,mumbling a quick thank you to one of the staff members. When the door clicked shut, I leaned my head against the back of the seat, trying to settle the rising nausea.
Last night was a fluke, I reminded myself for the one-hundredth time. I didn”t care what Fynn said. We were so deep in this fake courtship that we could no longer tell what was real or fake. The line had been completely blurred, swiped through in the sand and washed over by an unsuspecting wave.
While we had both been drinking earlier that night, by the time we had stepped foot into our suite, we had been entirely sober. It was a piss-poor excuse to succumb to my needs.
I straightened.
That”s all it was. I was human, and I had needs that needed to be fulfilled. And Fynn? Well, he had fulfilled them thoroughly.
What was done was done.
The next time we saw each other, nothing would be different. We had promised that and made it a rule.
I groaned, leaning back, my weight sinking into the stiff cushion. Even I no longer believed in the rules, though.
I couldn”t help but wish that last night hadn”t happened on the shortest night of the year, that it hadn”t passed by so quickly.
My fingers tapped across my bouncing knee. We should have been on the way by now, yet we were still sitting in front of the manor. I leaned closer to the door. Shuffling sounded from outside, a murmuring of voices that I couldn”t quite parse.
With a sigh, I pushed the door open. ”Was there something I”—I swallowed, my lungs dropping—”forgot?”
”Yes, there was.”
I quirked a brow, unable to say or do anything more as Fynn took another step closer to the carriage.
”Me,” Fynn said. His fingers curled around the frame of the carriage. His hair was messier than usual, as if he hadn”t bothered to brush it before he dressed and ran down the stairs. Dark brown strands fell in front of his face, masking it in shadows. The top button of his cotton shirt was undone and untucked. His sleeves were rolled up at different lengths as if he had pushed them up hastily.
Through the space between his arm and his head, I saw Jorian and Lance walking with Fynn”s bags.
”Move over,” Fynn said.
I didn”t move. ”Wh-what? Why?”
”I would like to sit.”
My heart pounded against my ribcage. ”In here?”
Fynn nodded.
I looked behind him. The sky was still a vibrant pink. ”But it”s early, you don”t need to?—”
”If you”re leaving now, I”m leaving,” he said, interrupting.
”But—”
Fynn shook his head and placed a hand atop the carriage to lean closer. ”If you won”t move, I don”t have a problem moving you myself, Ferrios.”
An image of Fynn flipping me onto my back surfaced.
I quickly dismissed the thought. With a groan, I moved back, if only to hide the unwelcome blush rising to my cheeks.
Once Fynn was inside and settled across from me, Lance shut the door, grinning at me.
Silence and heat filled the small carriage. Fynn’s fingers tapped along the wooden arm of the bench. Then, the carriage shook, jostling us as it took off.
I forced my gaze away and peeled back the thin curtain. We would be home in a few hours. A few hours were nothing. I could?—
”I woke up, and you were gone,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. ”Care to explain?”
”Training,” I mumbled.
Fynn quirked a brow. When he realized I wasn”t planning on elaborating, he added, ”So Terin said.”
The carriage jerked forward as the horses descended the hill toward the main road. The alder trees whizzed by the window, the manor growing smaller and smaller as we pulled away.
”He said you practically ran away from him.”
I scoffed. ”An exaggeration.”
Fynn tapped his fingers on top of his knee. ”Said you looked as if there was something wrong.”
”Oh?” I could feel Fynn”s gaze, but I refused to acknowledge it.
”Dani,” Fynn said, my name a plea on his lips. In my periphery, he reached out as if to touch my face, but his hand fell as though he thought better of it. ”Talk to me.”
”About?” I asked, watching the morning sky melt into an array of colors. The summer solstice was over. Last night was over. We had nothing to talk about.
We made a promise.
”Everything? Anything? It doesn”t matter, but don”t shut me out now.”
”I”m not.” From the corner of my eye, I saw him lean forward.
”You are,” he said. ”If you could sink into that cushion right now, you would.”
I snapped my head in his direction, my mouth opening to argue, but he cut me off, arching a brow.
”Don”t try to lie to me right now.” His attention dropped to my arms, pressed tightly over my chest.
My nails dug into my triceps as I pushed my back against the cushion. I loosened my grip, revealing crisp crescent moons marking my flesh. I tried to relax. I dropped my shoulders and uncrossed my legs, but no matter what I did, my heart still thumped in my chest.
”Why did you leave without saying goodbye?” The question was soft on his lips—lips I definitely was not admiring. He shifted to the front of the bench, his hands falling in front of his lap and dangling between his legs.
I shrugged. ”I didn”t want to wake?—”
Fynn”s lowered gaze forced me to swallow the lie.
”Dani.”
I bit down on my tongue. He wasn”t going to let this go. His eyes were as fixed on me as the roots of a thousand-year-old oak tree, ingrained into the very soil and unmoving.
”If you can”t say whatever it is, perhaps. . .” The rest of his thought melted away.
But Fynn was right. I might not have been able to say the words aloud, but there were other ways of expressing myself when Fynn was around.
Focusing, I imagined a window in one of the tall concrete walls of the fortress I had spent years building within my mind. I cracked it open. Only prying it open enough for a single thought to release—a whisper on the breeze, barely there and easily missed if one wasn”t looking.
”What were you scared about?” Fynn asked in response.
I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut.
Everything, I said through the mental window.
Fynn reached forward, but when I balled up my hands, his hand fell to my knee instead. His touch was warm and familiar, and somehow, it stabilized me. ”Dani.”
Last night was a?—
”Dani,” Fynn said, interrupting me, ”before you even finish that thought, let me say one thing.” He wrung his hands together.
If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought Fynn was nervous. But what did he, of all people, have to be anxious about?
”We”ve been pretending to court each other for almost three months. We have two months left.” He swiped a hand through his hair, his chest rising as he took a deep breath. ”What if we. . .stopped pretending for the last two months?”
The window in my mind slammed shut.
”We”re friends, Fynn, we can”t just. . .”
”Can”t what? Fuck?” He cocked a brow. ”Court each other?”
I waved my hand as if I could grab onto everything he said. ”All of it.”
”Dani, I”m not sure if you”re aware of this, but we already have done and are doing those exact things.”
I shook my head, my neck quickly becoming sore from the repeated movement. ”That wasn”t the deal, though.”
The wheels of the carriage continued to creak as we rode down the winding path back to the capital, back to normal.
What Fynn was proposing was the opposite of normal.
”Why does this scare you?”
”I—I don”t want things to change between us. We”ve been in a good place. Relationships. . .” I twisted my hands together, my voice growing softer, less sure. ”Relationships aren”t for me.”
”How do you know that?”
”Because I do, Fynn!”
I wished I was anywhere but locked inside a moving carriage, for there was nowhere to go. Nowhere to move.
”I”m too busy,” I said, ”I need to be focused on my career and getting promoted.”
Fynn grabbed my hand, unfolding my tightly wound fingers before weaving his fingers between the empty spaces. When his palm pressed against mine, a honeyed warmth spread through my arm and to my gut.
”That doesn”t have to change,” he said, voice firm, solid. ”We started this deal because of your goals. Why does that mean we have to end it?”
”Because!”
”Because why, Dani? You haven”t given me a single good reason for why it can”t work—why we can”t work. Whatever happened last night—whatever is going on between us, I want to figure out what it is. We’ve been faking this courtship this entire time, but what if we stopped faking? What if we stopped worrying if people discovered this wasn”t real? Simply because it was.”
Fynn was saying all the right things, yet the words felt wrong, illogical, reckless.
I wasn”t the relationship type.
That”s what he had said years ago.
Fynn tightened his grip around my hand and scooted closer, his knees knocking into mine and enclosing my legs in between his. ”Let me ask you this, Dani. Do you regret last night?”
My mouth fell open.
Yes. I should say yes.
But I couldn”t. The word wouldn”t come out.
Instead, I cracked open the window and asked within the safety of my mind, Do you?
He leaned forward, and his fingers brushed across the bottom of my chin. ”Do I regret hearing you scream my name? No, Dani, I don”t.”
My cheeks flushed, and heat pooled between my thighs.
He sat back against the cushion, a smug smirk slipping across his face along with that godforsaken dimple. Because we both knew I couldn”t deny that I had done just that.
However, I couldn”t let what happened last night blind me. I promised myself it wouldn”t change things.
”Whether we regret it or not doesn”t matter. You cannot deny that what transpired last night isn”t the reason for this...this change in the plan, can you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest.
”Of course, it has changed things, Dani,” Fynn said, matter-of-fact.
His words shouldn”t have hurt, yet they did.
I scoffed. ”Just because we had sex?—”
His hand gripped my knee. ”I”m not proposing we stop pretending because we had sex, Ferrios. As incredible as it was,” he said, cocking a brow, ”and it was incredible, I will never deny that. I wanted to make this real before that.”
My fingers curled around the bench. ”Then why didn”t you say anything?” I asked skeptically.
Fynn sighed and brushed a hand through his hair. ”Because, Dani, you mean too much to me to mess this—whatever this is—up. Perhaps sleeping with you was a mistake.”
I tried to pull my hand away, but Fynn squeezed it.
His words came out in a flurry. ”Shit. See? I”m already messing this up.” He scooted closer, his knees bumping into mine. ”It was only a mistake because now you doubt my intentions. I should have said no, but I didn”t because when I”m around you, I can”t help but say yes.”
I was completely and utterly speechless as I stared at Fynn.
This wasn”t a part of the plan. This was never supposed to happen.
Yet, last night wasn”t either.
”So, tell me the truth, Ferrios. Am I the only one who can”t stop thinking about last night? About what would happen if we stopped pretending?”
I stared at our conjoined hands, his knees pressed against mine.
Stars spun in the back of my eyes.
This was too much.
Too much.
Too much.
Sleeping together was one thing. Having my feelings rekindled was one thing. But admitting them to Fynn? Making this courtship real? That was an entirely different issue.
Fynn shifted and dug a hand in his pocket. He pulled out a playing card.
”Fynn, I don’t think this isn”t the time for?—”
He slapped a hand down on the space beside me. When he peeled his hand away, a single card sat atop the cushion.
”The truth only, Dani.”
But as I stared at the eight of spades, the truth wasn”t that easy to confess. Because how could I tell him I had been in love with him since we were children?
Whatever Fynn was feeling wasn”t love. Despite what he said, love didn”t happen overnight. That was lust. But did I care?
Wasn’t one moment—or two months—with Fynn better than none?
”No,” I mumbled.
Fynn tipped my chin up, his thumb sweeping across it before pulling at my bottom lip. ”What was that, Ferrios?”
I forced my gaze to meet his. The sunlight seeping through the thin space between the curtains streaked across his face. A fire of gold danced among the dark shadows within his irises.
Warning bells sounded in my head.
But the beat of my racing heart was louder than the ringing.
”I said, no, you”re not the only one.”
”So, no more pretending?”
”No more pretending,” I said. I picked up the card and held it in the space between us. ”If you answer one question for me.”
”Go for it, Ferrios.”
”How long have you been holding onto this card?”
A wide smile split across his face, but his answer never came.
In truth, though, I didn”t care about the answer—not when his lips met mine.
The kiss was soft at first. Then, he parted my lips with his tongue, and the softness vanished. It was all-consuming, head-spinning. And without the lie sitting between us, Fynn was unrelenting.