Tower of Tempest: A Steamy Fantasy Romance (Stolen Crowns Book 3)

Chapter 41

Something was wrong. I lay on the hard ground, unable to get comfortable as I stared at the starry night sky. The fire flickered, embers popping in the silent night. Everyone else was sleeping, but as much as I tried, I couldn’t drift off. Poppy had been acting odd for the entire day, like she’d sunken into a darkness I couldn’t pull her out of. I’d wanted to talk to her, to tell her the truth about my feelings, the blue lines, but every time I’d tried, the words wouldn’t come.

I didn’t want to place that kind of burden on her, didn’t want to see the heartache in her eyes, heartache I was responsible for. I turned again, a rock lodging into my side. I winced. This was pointless. I wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, not with thoughts of Poppy rolling through my mind. If only we could find some time alone, which was proving impossible when stuck in a small carriage with Leoni and Driscoll all day. We’d arrive at the forest tomorrow, and then... and then I had no idea what was going to happen.

The crack of a branch jolted me from my thoughts. I shot up, peering into the darkness, unable to see much beyond the dying fire and the light it cast.

Three sleeping forms lay around the fire. My pulse spiked. Three. Leoni, Driscoll, and the driver. Which meant Poppy was missing—and whatever sound I’d just heard could’ve been a shadow, a threat, something that put her in danger. The thought sent me stumbling to my feet, feeling around for my sword.

Rustling sounded nearby, and I crouched, inching my way through the dark, following the sound. Surely if someone had taken Poppy we’d have heard. Unless she got up in the middle of the night to relieve herself—and someone took her. A door creaked open in the distance, the noise coming from the carriage. I swore, readying myself for a fight as I inched closer.

The carriage came into view, lit by the silver glow of the moon. I flattened myself outside the door, which was ajar. My heart hammered in my chest. Why would someone go into the carriage? There was nothing of value in there—not that I knew of.

A boot thumped on the floor, and I took a deep inhale, then threw open the door and leapt inside, sword pointing straight into Poppy’s delicate throat.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and I slowly lowered my sword and set it on one of the cushioned benches. “What are you doing in here?” I asked, then took her in.

She wore her boots, trousers, and tunic, her hair pleated back into a braid that fell over her shoulder. She twisted her hands in front of her and shifted from foot to foot.

I narrowed my gaze. “Were you... were you running away?”

Her features drew into a sharp scowl.

“You were going to... what? Steal our carriage?”

“No,” she snapped. “Of course not. I was leaving on foot when I realized I was missing my necklace. I thought maybe it had fallen somewhere in the carriage, so I was looking for it.” She held it up, then looped it around her neck. “I found it.”

I stepped closer and she moved back. “Leave? Why would you leave?”

She crossed her arms. “Why do you care?”

The question caught me off-guard, and I sensed the anger behind it, in the tautness of her body, in the way she raised her chin, so defiant. My instinct was to make the peace and draw a smile from her.

“Was this all a ruse?” I teased. “To lure me in here? Finish what we started on that balcony?” I knew instantly I’d said the wrong thing.

Her cheeks flushed red, and now it wasn’t just anger swirling in those green eyes—it was sadness as well.

“If Poppy is worth dying for, don’t you think she’s worth fighting for too?”

That’s what Leoni had said.

“Just let me leave, Loch.” She tried to push past me.

My fingers curled into my palms, digging into them. “No,” I said, stepping in front of her and blocking the exit.

“Why not?” She threw out her arms. “I’m giving you a way out.” All the anger in her eyes melted into hurt, hurt that I didn’t understand. “You don’t have to break anything to me, Loch. You don’t have to have difficult conversations or tell me that what happened between us on the balcony didn’t mean anything. I’m leaving and letting you off the hook.”

Understanding hit me. “Wait,” I started, but she cut me off.

“It’s okay. I understand. I knew your reputation, knew what I was getting into with you. I’m just like all the other women. Expendable.”

“Fight for her.”

“That’s not what this is,” I said quietly, a forcefulness behind my words that I wasn’t used to.

She swallowed, eyeing me suspiciously. “You just don’t want to say it because you’re nice and you don’t want to hurt me. I’m a grown woman. I’ll be okay.”

“I’m not that nice.” I took a step forward. “I don’t want you to run away,” I said, “because the difficult conversation isn’t about how I don’t care for you. It’s about how much I do.”

She stared at me, completely still, and I really hoped I hadn’t just said the wrong thing again, that I hadn’t just blown our relationship to pieces with my admission.

“Care for me?” she echoed.

“No,” I said, and her face fell. “Care doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel for you.” I met her confused gaze. “My life didn’t have meaning until the night you came into my dreams. I don’t just desire you, I need you like I need air. Like a plant needs water. Like Driscoll needs gossip.”

She laughed.

“I love you.”

“But you don’t fall in love,” she said.

“Apparently I do.” My lips quirked. “With brown-haired, green-eyed princesses who are selfless and sweet and who see through all my bullshit. Do you know anyone by that description, by any chance?”

“But I have nothing to offer you.” She threw out her arms. “I can’t give you an alliance or a crown or even use my magic. I’m on the run, wanted by the king of the sky court!”

Oh, my little bird. Of course she wouldn’t believe I loved her. Her gran made her believe she had to prove her worth, to earn her love. She thought her only worth was in what she could offer me. I thumbed away a tear that trailed down her cheek.

“You don’t have to offer me anything to earn my love. Not when you’re already everything.”

Tears spilled from her eyes now, her cheeks damp and rosy, her green eyes bright and glimmering, searching my face with a desperation.

Fight for her.

“You owe me nothing. I go where you go. So if you want to run tonight, that’s fine. I’ll run with you. You can yell, rail at me, hate me, but I won’t, I can’t, leave your side. Not when doing so would be like leaving a piece of myself behind.”

“But you hate fighting.” She blinked a few times. “You hate conflict.”

“I hate the thought of a life without you far more than either of those things.” I pressed my lips to her jaw. “So if that’s what you want, I’ll fight with you.” I pressed my lips to her cheek. “I’ll fight for you.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. “Every day for the rest of my life.”

She didn’t move, her jaw tensed.

“Is that what you want?” I asked, voice low as I trailed my lips along that exquisite jawline. “Do you want to fight with me?”

A breath of silence passed. “No,” she whispered, arching into me. “I think the time for fighting is past. I think we should skip to the making-up part.” She trailed a finger down my chest, and my body responded, cock stiffening.

She was willing to give me everything, and I’d give her everything in return. I hoisted her up against me, hands cupping her ass. Her legs wrapped around my waist, chest heaving against mine so that I could feel all the curves and divots of her body.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.

My perfect little bird. “Lucky for you, I do.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Then show me.”

“Gladly.”