Chapter 41
My mind wasa sea of thoughts, but, for once, they only belonged to me. Because when Dani hissed as she stood, red rage heated my blood. It soared from my toes to the pit of my stomach to my temples. It was territorial and overbearing. It was absolutely and completely primal.
And it went against everything Dani believed in and fought for.
She didn”t want someone protecting her.
She didn”t want someone controlling her.
She was the fighter, the warrior.
If Dani knew what I was thinking, she would push me away. She would believe I was trying to take everything she was away from her.
So, despite how much it pained me to do it, I pushed everything I was feeling down and kept my mouth shut.
Dani thought asking for help was a sign of weakness. She would rather dig her nails into her bed and swallow the pain down than ask someone to help. She thought that by not needing someone”s help, she was somehow stronger and more capable. However, I have watched my mother lean on her advisors time and time again. Never once did it make me think any less of her or her ability to rule as queen.
I wanted Dani to know it was all right to lean on someone.
I stepped forward and gingerly wrapped my arm around Dani”s waist. When she didn”t push me away—when she instead leaned against me—the pit of my stomach heated. As my veins buzzed with an intoxicating energy and set my soul aflame, I wondered how I had never noticed the sensation before. Had this feeling always been there? Had I subconsciously ignored it?
I didn”t know how I could have possibly dismissed it, though. It was overwhelming and blatantly obvious.
My mother once told me that soul bonds appear when we least expect them and often when we need them the most.
It should have been a comfort, a relief.
It seemed I had been searching for my soul bond forever. But now that I had found her, I was scared shitless.
Not only because I had almost lost her, but what if Dani decided to ignore the bond? Soul bonds might have been connected by fate, but fate only had so much power over people. Dani already questioned me. She believed I wished her to be someone she wasn’t, some idealized version of some obtuse societal expectation, but all I wanted was her.
All of her.
Every version I had witnessed—the woman laughing and wiping ale from her lip with the back of her hand at a rundown tavern, the one draped in silk and glowing in the golden hue of the sun, the one who threatened to stab me countless times as a child.
I wanted every single version of her, now and for the rest of our days.
I swore I would protect it with my life if Dani even gave me a sliver of her heart.
She would never question her worth.
She would never question her ability.
She would never question my truth.
She would never question who she was or if she was good enough.
To me, she was already the queen of my heart, and I would gladly bow before her without hesitation.
Ifshe let me.
Dani hissed in pain as she took a step forward. I held her closer, tucking her beneath my arm. While I couldn”t erase the pain or make the scars disappear or rewrite the past, I could lessen the pain—at least a little.
And for Dani, I would do anything.
We stopped beside the bathtub, now filled. With a pull of the ribbon, Dani loosened the thin robe. I walked behind her and grabbed the fabric to help her out of it.
”I can manage by myself,” she mumbled, spite lacing her voice.
”I know you can,” I said, and unable to help myself, I placed a gentle kiss on the back of her head. ”But please, let me help. I need. . .”
Dani peered over her shoulder at me. ”You need what?”
I bit down on my tongue. I hadn”t meant to say anything. This wasn”t the time to have this conversation. She was alive. She would heal. And yet. . .
”Fynn, what is it?” Dani asked.
Sighing, I brushed a hand through my hair. ”When Lance came storming into the Wilton”s manor, I thought—” I swallowed, the words lodging themselves in my throat. But with Dani”s eyes locked on me, awaiting an explanation, I forced myself to continue, ”I thought I had lost you. His thoughts were wild. I couldn”t—I didn”t know what happened.”
Dani faced me. Then, hesitating momentarily, she pressed her hands lightly against my chest. Her hard exterior softened, her brows smoothing as she said, ”You didn”t lose me, though, Fynn. You never could.”
My gaze flicked across her face, from the freckles on her nose to the faded bruises on her temple. I leaned into her touch, closing my eyes as her warmth surrounded me.
She was here, standing before me, alive and healing, and yet. . .
”Then why does it feel like I already did?” The question left my lips before I could pull it back.
Dani didn”t respond, though.
When I opened my eyes, she was looking at me with sorrow clouding her hazel irises, dimming the gold flecks that once sparkled there.
I took a deep, steadying breath and offered her a small smile.
Her lack of an answer was answer enough as she turned away.
So, I turned, too, taking a step toward the door.
”I”ll go get?—”
”Stay,” Dani whispered, her voice as quiet as a light morning breeze. I almost didn”t believe I heard her until she added, ”Please.”
Those two words together. . .they were hope.
They were everything.
I returned to her side.
Dani peeled the robe from her shoulders, revealing the bandage wrapped around her torso. Then, the robe pooled onto the floor.
I swallowed, and with some willpower granted to me by the gods, I kept my gaze up. Now was not the time to let my gaze trail down her body despite desperately wanting to after our time apart. I struggled, though. Because at that point, that”s who I was: a desperate man.
But Dani deserved better. She didn”t deserve desperation.
I offered her my arm. When her fingers wrapped around it as she stepped into the tub, her palm heated the blood in my veins. I wasn”t sure if it was because of the soul bond or if it was just her. Either way, she was a magnet, and there was nothing I could do but step forward and get closer.
Her face scrunched up as her free hand flew to her side. I shifted, stabilizing her.
”I got you,” I whispered.
When Dani narrowed her eyes at me, I cleared my throat and threw on the smirk that could mask everything stirring beneath it.
”Don”t want you to fall,” I added, punctuating the remark with a wink.
Dani rolled her eyes. But before she could turn all the way around, I saw the flicker of amusement sparkling among the gold and green swirls in her irises and the faintest twitch of her lips.
Once she was standing inside the tub, she reached for the wrapping and grimaced. ”Do you mind?” Dani asked, the question almost inaudible.
”Of course,” I said.
With shaking hands, I gently peeled the cotton. As I reached around her torso, Dani stood still. Her hands out wide as if she couldn”t bear to touch me.
Swatting the thought away, I kept my eyes trained on her back as more and more skin was revealed. I gathered the stained fabric in my hand, balling it up as I breathed through my nose, my chest rising and falling hard. The closer the cotton fabric was to her skin, the more discolored it was.
I tossed the strip of cotton into the bin in the corner of the bathroom. The bundle made a soft thud as it hit the bottom of the trash bin.
Dani looked down at her side, her eyes watering. ”Gods, it”s hideous, isn”t it?”
The scar ran from the back of her hip to the top of her rib cage. The wound had already closed and scarred over, but her russet brown skin was still marked with bruises.
In that jagged line, though, Dani saw her supposed failure. But when I looked at it, all I saw was a warrior who would give her life to save the ones she cared about.
”No, it”s not.”
Dani snorted. ”Very funny, Fynn.”
”I”m not joking,” I whispered.
Shaking her head, Dani lowered herself into the warm water, her hands gripping the sides of the porcelain tub as her arms trembled.
As she settled in the tub, I hesitated.
Over the years, I had visited many soldiers who were in recovery. One of the hardest things to watch was their view of themselves change, how their confidence faltered and withered away once they were wounded. I didn”t know if I could witness Dani experience the same thing.
While she put up a good front, deep down, I knew she was hurting more than she let on. Perhaps what she wanted most was to be alone.
But she asked me to stay, I reminded myself.
Maybe being alone was the last thing she needed.
I grabbed the washcloth and sat on the stool. I placed my free hand softly on Dani’s shoulder to avoid scaring her away.
Still, her breath hitched, the muscles in her shoulders straining.
”It”s just me, Dani,” I whispered.
I didn’t move until she exhaled and her shoulders sank. Once she relaxed, I guided Dani back. When her back was against the porcelain, I went to the other end of the tub. Dani”s arms were wrapped around her legs. Bubbles covered the water’s surface, and the scent of orange filled the air.
Squatting down, I held out a hand.
”What?” She asked, her head snapping up as she squeezed her legs tighter to her torso.
”Give me your leg,” I said, wiggling my fingers, hand still extended.
”Why?”
I tilted my head to the side. ”Dani, you could barely get into the tub by yourself. Let me take care of you.”
”I”m more than capable of washing my feet, Fynn.” Her brows bunched together, forcing that stubborn little vein to pulse in the center of her forehead, a perfect little Y.
I swallowed the inappropriate chuckle in my throat and held out the washcloth. ”Then, by all means, prove it.”
Dani looked at the washcloth, then back at me. With a look that could have burned a hole through paper, Dani resigned and leaned back against the tub.
”Fine,” she grumbled. She pointed a firm finger at me, the pain that had just covered her features practically extinguished. ”But if you dare try to tickle me, there are plenty of knives in my room that I wouldn”t mind chucking at you.”
”Do you truly think you’ll be able to get to them fast enough?” I asked, almost failing to hold back my laughter.
Narrowing her eyes, Dani ran her hand through the water and struck.
Water flew in the air, splashing me in my face.
Wiping a hand over my face and pushing back my damp hair, I winked. ”I promise to be a complete gentleman.”
Dani rolled her eyes, but a small smile slipped over her lips.
Grinning from the small victory, I lathered the washcloth with one of the essential oils beside the porcelain tub. The scent of cinnamon filled the room as I massaged the oil into the cloth. As I wrung the washcloth, I chuckled and said, ”This is just like when I was forced to give my grandmother a bath.”
Dani kicked, causing more water to spray out and onto my clothes.
Immediately, she pressed a hand to her side.
Shaking off the water, I sighed, my mouth forming a flat line. ”You”re only hurting yourself when you do that.”
Dani shrugged. ”It was worth it. You compared this to bathing your grandmother!” She extended her leg, and I wrapped my fingers around her ankle, stilling it.
”I was only joking. You”re much prettier to look at,” I said with a wink. Then I leaned in closer, massaging her foot. ”Plus, your skin doesn”t sag like hers.”
Dani”s leg jerked in my grasp as she tried to kick me in the face. I tightened my grip around her ankle.
”Grandma Dahlia at least smelled better.” I sniffed the air, wrinkling my nose in jest. ”Although dirt and sweat are only marginally better than stale roses and an old tin can.”
Dani gasped, a red tint blooming across her cheeks. ”Fynn!”
”Kidding.” A mischievous smirk crept up on my face. ”You smell just as bad.”
Dani”s mouth fell open, her hazel eyes widening as she stared at me in horror. Her face flushed an even brighter shade of red, forcing laughter to tumble out of my mouth.
Water smacked my chest immediately, which only caused me to laugh more, and Dani eventually joined in.
When I recovered, I inspected my soaked shirt. Setting the cloth down, I quickly undid the buttons and stripped it off. As I did, I could feel Dani”s gaze on me, watching my every move.
I gave Dani an accusatory glance. ”If you wanted me out of my shirt, you could have asked, Ferrios.”
Dani rolled her eyes again, chuckling. ”You are the absolute worst. You do know that, right?”
I arched a brow. ”The worst or the best?” I glanced at the leg in my hands and added. ”After all, I am washing your feet for you.”
”Well, right now, you”re not doing much of that. Are you?” Dani retorted. But as she leaned against the tub, her remark lost its bitterness.
Huffing, I shook my head and focused on the task at hand. Using the washcloth, I scrubbed her feet, massaging her calf as I did so. I then ran the washcloth over her shin. At some point in the process, Dani had closed her eyes, the wrinkles in her forehead softening. I smiled to myself as I made quick work of washing her legs.
The jokes were only a distraction. The distraction had worked based on how Dani slunk back against the tub, her head tipping up to the ceiling as her muscles ever-so-slowly relaxed.
Even as I reached out, pulling on the thread connecting her thoughts to mine, I didn”t feel the tension swarming the edge of her mental barricade. The dark gloom that had hovered around her mind when I had first entered the room was no longer present.
It may not have been a permanent fix, but it was a start.
Quietly, I moved toward the center of the tub. When I grabbed one of her arms, Dani peered at me through heavy eyes.
Too exhausted to make a snide comment, she shut her eyes again, and I took that as permission to continue.
I massaged the oils first into her arms, then her palms. Her palms were covered with callouses, a testament to the work she put into her training every day for the past decade. Yet, despite the callouses, her skin remained soft and silky. I couldn”t help but take a minute while Dani dozed off to appreciate the woman sitting before me. She was tougher than anyone I knew. Fearless, capable, and beautiful.
A thick layer of bubbles covered most of her body. It was hard not to marvel at Dani”s beauty—her toned arms, the bow of her knee, her gleaming neck, her flushed face slick with sweat from the steam?—
Dani shifted, and I shook myself from my stupor.
Not the time, I reminded myself.
I stood and placed the chair directly behind her. Gently, I brushed a piece of hair from her face, my finger sweeping across the contours of her face as my gaze latched onto the freckles peppering her nose. Carefully, I gathered Dani”s curls into my hands.
Dani leaned forward slightly and tilted her head back without saying a word or even opening her eyes.
And I stood there, dumbfounded, as water dripped down her neck and over her collarbone.
After a moment that I wished I could bottle up, I poured water onto her hair with a careful, albeit shaking, hand, using my other to prevent water from spilling into her eyes.
Dani passed me one of the vials along the tub”s edge. I took it and popped the top off. Notes of cinnamon wafted out of the clear container, and I smiled because one word came to mind: home.
I began massaging the oil into her scalp with meticulous care.
Yet, Dani”s shoulders did not relax. They remained close to her ears as she shifted in the tub and wrapped her arms around her legs again. ”I”m sorry we failed the mission. I know how much this meant to you.”
The blood rushed from my face as I turned to stone.
No mission was more important than her safety.
”Dani,” I sighed, my fingers curling into her hair.
”You weren”t there, Fynn.” Then, Dani relayed every moment of that night.
At first, her words were cold and detached, as if she were trying to remove the emotion from the events. As though she could isolate them from everything else. But as she continued, the muscles in the side of my neck strained as her voice twisted. I didn”t need to reach into her mind to know her inner thoughts because they seeped into every word: the disappointment, the anger, the pain.
Dani feared not being strong enough, not being good enough, and not being able to uphold her family”s name.
But she was more than enough.
”I should”ve noticed,” she said. ”I should”ve heard them coming.”
My hands fell from her hair as I washed away the rest of the suds.
Enough, I thought, pushing myself up and slipping off my shoes.
I stepped into the tub, socks and pants still on.
Dani screeched. ”Fynn! What are you?—”
I sunk to my knees in front of her, the warm water splashing up from the tub and onto the floor.
I placed my hands on each side of her face and forced her to look at me. ”Listen to me, Danisinia.”
She blinked, eyes wide, but she didn”t interrupt.
”I said it before, and I will say it again: you are more important to me than any mission. I thought I lost you, Dani. I thought that you were gone, that I was too late.”
”Too late?” Dani asked, brows twisting together. ”Too late for what?”
I took a deep breath. We had wasted too much time already, and who knew how much time we had left. Life was too fleeting to be hesitant.
”I should have said this to you before. You, Danisinia Ember Ferrios, are my best friend. I never wanted you to choose between your career and me. I would never ask you to put your dreams to the wayside. And I should have told you that the night of the dinner.” My touch softened, caressing her cheek. ”I should have said a lot of things before you left, but I was foolish and stupid and stuck in my head. But I”m saying them now.”
Her fingers wrapped around my wrist, tugging my hand away from her face. ”Fynn, I”m not—your life, your future, it doesn”t?—”
I shook my head, unwilling to hear the excuses. Because that”s what they were—excuses. But we both had been too afraid of the future for too long.
”I do not know what our future will look like, Dani. All I know is I want you in it. I want you beside me for the rest of my life, for as long as that may be.”
”Fynn, I—” she swallowed.
”Tell me right now you don”t feel what I feel, Dani. Tell me right now that there”s something inside of you that you”ve been trying to make sense of. Something fighting you. A feeling you can”t explain,” I said, pleading. My fingers curled into her hair, and I inched closer, causing more water to spill over the tub’s edge. ”Your walls are a mile high. You”ve never let me in, not completely, not entirely. So please, Dani. I”m begging you. Tell me the truth.” I grabbed her hand and held it to my chest, where my heart ricocheted against my ribcage. When her skin met mine, my whole body heated. ”Tell me you hear it too.”
Her eyes bounced across my face, but in her gaze, I knew I was right. She felt it, too—the song that buzzed between us, where our skin touched. That invisible thread that connected us, that weaved our souls together.
At that moment, it was undeniable.
”If you”ll have me, I want you at my side. I want to be the first to say good morning to you and the last one to say goodnight. I want to be the last one to wish you safe travels and the first one to welcome you home.”
A tear rolled down her face. With my thumb, I wiped it away. But she shook her head. She was still fighting it. I could see that in the pain that twisted her brows together, that creased her forehead.
”But there”s never been a queen who?—”
I squeezed her hand. ”It doesn”t matter what has come before us, Dani. I want you and only you. I will only want you for the rest of my life. If you wanted me to abdicate from the throne, I would.”
”Fynn, I could never ask for you to do that. You care about this kingdom too much.”
”I know you never would ask, for you care about this kingdom, too.” I weaved my fingers into the wet curls at the back of her neck and pulled her closer, resting my forehead on hers. ”Let me love you the way you deserve to be loved, Dani. I”ve let you slip through my hands one too many times. I do not want to lose you ever again. It”s you or no one for me, Dani.”
Her palms caressed my face. Her hands were shaking, her body trembling. I weaved my fingers between hers. When I leaned back and our eyes met, something snapped.
Fire erupted from my core, soaring through my veins and up my chest. It blanketed every limb, muscle, and every other part of me. A sweet, honeyed song rang throughout my body and hummed all around me.
Dani smiled. ”It”s always been you, Fynn,” she whispered, an untamable fire roaring beneath her eyes as the thread connecting our souls wrapped around each other, stringing us together and uniting our hearts.
I leaned back and tipped her chin up. ”And it always will be you.”
The corners of her mouth flicked up.
”I love you.”
Her voice was as solid as iron, yet her lips had not moved.
Shock ripped through me as I reached for the thread connecting her mind to mine.
Her mental shields were down—the fortress she had spent years building completely and utterly obliterated. Everything she had kept hidden from me, locked away in the safety of the farthest parts of her mind, came pouring out.
It had always been Dani. I had simply been too blind to see it, but Dani had known.
She had always known.