Chapter 41
Chapter
Forty-One
EVIE
I nstead of the cavern, ballroom or meadow, this time the dream yanked me into an opulent room, with dark marble floors polished until glimmering and lush red velvet perfect for self-indulgent lounging.
A set of large doors dominated the farthest wall, leading out into a balcony bathed in the sinful colors of night, stars winking in the distance. A table waited in front of it, filled with food that smelled so tangy and rich, it actually made my mouth water.
I wore a simple silky gown which looked woven from the sun’s rays themselves, a stark contrast to my sleek surroundings.
The only softness in the room were the flowers.
Rows upon rows of vases, all of them filled with plump, glowing magnolia flowers, like the ones which guarded Dria Vegheara’s secret statue in Phoenix Peak. My heart stuttered at the memory and the future I’d been picturing on that night.
With him.
“Where are you?” I called out.
Goosebumps rose on my arm as the wall of shadows in the back whispered louder than usual.
“Miss me already?” His breath ghosted across the shell of my ear.
I turned quickly, only to come face to face with him . Well, face to muscled chest. I strained my neck to look into his playful eyes.
His grin only made me more confused after the discussion I had with my cousins.
“Wouldn’t want you vanishing on me,” I mumbled, unwanted heat already rising in my cheeks.
“I am very much here. With you.” He held out his arm in that princely way of his, honed not on the training grounds, but in the distracting rooms of the Blood Brotherhood court. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me for dinner?”
How perfectly polite and peculiar.
After a sword fight and almost drowning, a simple meal seemed like the kind of dream that belonged in someone else’s imagination.
He didn’t move, hand still outstretched, gaze glued to my every reaction.
Waiting.
Hoping.
A weird sort of urgency clung to the air, so potent it coated the tip of my tongue. So I grasped his elbow and let him guide me to the table and help me into my chair, like a perfect gentleman.
“This is quite a spread,” I said. I didn’t like this silence. It was brimming with a strange tension I wanted to crack. “Any special occasion?”
He picked up a bottle of wine which looked to have seen more summers than both of us and poured me a glass. “Aside from enjoying your company?”
“You could have done that anyway. In this dream world, at least,” I said. “So spill. Not the wine.”
“Tomorrow is the battle that will decide the fate of this war. I want to enjoy a nice final meal,” he said, too lightheartedly for the earth-shattering reality he’d just laid at my feet.
He finished pouring his own glass of blood-red wine and sat down in front of me in all his unavoidable greatness.
“Don’t say that,” I said, almost pleading.
“Very well.” The moon’s light emphasized that gorgeous face which had haunted my dreams and nightmares alike. “Then let’s say this is me making up for missing the meals we promised to share together.”
My stomach dropped. The last thing I wanted right now was a reminder, however innocent, of that blasted contract and its clauses.
This was not the place and definitely not the time to discuss what Clara had revealed.
“You first,” I said, because there was a sudden lump in my throat, and there was no way food was going down until I calmed myself. “You know, in case it’s poisoned.”
He huffed a laugh and picked up one of the small tomatoes, popping it in his mouth. Juice spilled down his lips as he bit into it, and I swear he did it on purpose, so his tongue could dart out and make me all kinds of heated and flustered.
“A host should never poison their guests.” He began piling scrumptious food on a golden plate. Slices of grilled meats that glistened, garlicky herbs that made my mouth water, and sauces that looked red enough to sting my tongue. My stomach grumbled for the first time in weeks. “It’s far too easy to track the culprit, “accidents” are much preferred.”
“Ah, so that’s why we’re near a balcony. Nothing like a good fall to not arouse suspicion.”
“You’re nervous,” he said gently.
“I’m just tired,” I lied.
He gave me a knowing look that made me squirm, but went on, “You’re also very right, accidents tend to not be investigated properly.”
He laughed again, but this time it was tinged with a darkness I didn’t understand. He rose and placed the filled plate in front of me. “Guests get to eat the best parts.”
“I–thank you.”
“Before we begin, a toast.” He raised his own glass my way. “For the Blue Queen, who bested the advisors at their own game. Dria Vegheara and Constantine would have been very proud of you. As am I. Congratulations.”
My cheeks heated up even more. “Wait until we’ve finally gotten rid of them.”
“Take the win, you’ve earned it.” He clinked his glass against mine, watching me behind the rim as he took his first sip.
“Fine. I’m proud of you, too.”
“I haven’t won yet.”
“You will,” I said with absolute conviction.
He averted his gaze. “Shall we?”
The first bite of the meat made my toes–pinkies and all–curl. My appetite returned with a vengeance. So this is what good food used to taste like. “This is amazing.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he said, prim and politely, and began eating as well. He closed his eyes in delight. “Godsdammit, I missed this.”
I took another bite and gave off an ungodly moan I only became aware of when his eyes darkened on me. I focused my attention on the table, before I said something stupid, like how gorgeous he was.
At the end of it, he threw his napkin on the pile of empty dishes. “You know what’s cruel?”
The fact that it hurts to look at you, knowing what I know? “What?”
“That, as fated mates, we can only sleep and eat properly when we’re together. Which ancestor thought that up?”
“One from your side, obviously.”
“We truly are a bunch of bastards.” He shook his head. “It makes no survival sense.”
“I think it’s just the fact that we’re…not in a great place right now. Emotionally. The bond is sort of forcing us to play nice, isn’t it?”
He sighed, long and hard. “I want you to want to spend time with me. Not because you’re hungry or sleep deprived or aching.”
I licked my lips. “Truth?”
“Always.”
“Sad truth,” I warned. At his solemn nod, I shimmied in my chair. “I do like spending time with you. You’re smart and funny and nice to look at, even when you’re covered in blood.”
“Stop,” he said humorously. “You’ll make me blush.”
“But…it hurts.” There. I’d said it. My heart ached whenever we were alone together. “Because of the wedding.”
“Let’s not soften it. Because of what I did.” He leaned his elbows on top of the table. “How can we move past this?”
I’d asked myself that many times and I still didn’t know. So I shrugged and absentmindedly patted my very full belly. I’d really done a number on that grilled meat–
His growl shook the room. My eyes jumped to him. He was watching my protruding stomach, cradled gingerly in my arms, with a very male yearning.
Another stab of sorrow raced through me. I yanked my hands back, shattering the illusion.
I tried to laugh; it sounded hollow. “Has Zavoya baby-fever reached you too or…?”
He shook his head and blinked fast. The growl vanished, leaving us alone in the silence.
“Instinct,” he said, voice gruffer. “I can’t even blame it on the bond.”
I wanted to make another joke, I did. But the weight of everything was suddenly too much.
“You can’t die.” The desperate words tumbled out of my mouth. They sprouted from this traitorous heart of mine and spilled straight from my lips. “You need to come back alive.”
He clenched his jaw. “Menace…”
“Death is not a luxury you have.” I scraped my chair closer to the table. “Your army needs you. Your Clan needs you.” Gods, I needed him. “You need to come back.”
“I can’t promise that.” He leaned back in his chair. “I can promise I will do my very best to win this war. Gods willing, I’ll survive it. But we both know that if my death would bring victory…that is a sacrifice I have to make.”
“Damn you.” The corners of my eyes stung. “Why can’t you be cowardly and selfish?”
“Because then I wouldn’t be a man fit to be your fated mate.”
No, he wouldn’t be. I could never respect anyone who let others fight their battles and skulked away from danger.
Damn him and damn me, too.
With a heavy sigh, he rose and picked up one of the magnolia flowers. My skin pricked as he approached, towering above me. With careful, gentle movements, he tucked my hair and nestled the flower right above my ear. His fingers lingered on my temple.
“You know what makes me think I will return?” he whispered.
“Sheer stubbornness?”
“You’re the stubborn one in this family.” He chuckled. “The gods can’t be so vengeful to thrust you into my life only to kill me now. I don’t know how our story will end, but it is not done.”
Before I could fret over what I was doing, I jumped from my seat, reached a hand behind his neck, and kissed him.
It wasn’t like the sweet, tentative kisses I’d given him before the wedding, though my heart fluttered just the same.
This wasn’t the vengeful kiss of death we shared in the Arena, either, though it was just as desperate.
So many emotions competed within me, I couldn’t pick a clear winner. Hurt and longing danced together, like the two of us had at that masked ball.
I stopped thinking and just felt .
Because despite everything that had happened, I was painfully, earth-shatteringly still in love with this bastard.
I also knew I hadn’t forgiven him.
But that was the thing with mixed emotions. They made you do crazy things–like kissing the breath out of the man you swore revenge on.
If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. His lips molded to mine like they had all those times before and his arms coiled around me in a searing embrace.
He kissed me just as desperately as I tried to devour him, a growl emanating from the back of his throat.
He kissed me like a man who thought he would die tomorrow.
My hold on him tightened frantically, fingers winding in his hair, body molding to his.
I was distantly aware of plates and glasses crashing to the floor and my body being lifted on top of the table.
We didn’t break the kiss for a moment, tormenting ourselves with scalding touches and moans that will be forever seared in our minds.
Our movements were urgent and messy. We were messy and complicated and damn the fates, why did it feel so good to have him pressed against me, his lips on my neck as my nails dug into his back?
Shards of memories from my bedroom clouded my already-hazy vision. I only became aware of my tears when he stopped doing wicked things to my neck and wiped the salty drops from my cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” he muttered. “You’re breaking my heart.”
“Maybe I’m crying because I’m happy you’re going into battle,” I lied to try and stave off the sadness threatening to consume me.
“If only that were the true reason.” He sighed, completely nonplussed, then kissed my forehead. If he wouldn’t stop being so gentle and attentive, I might break down sobbing. “You’re strong, menace. You’ll survive whatever happens.”
He needed to live, too.
Even if we parted ways after he came back from war.
Even if I ended up cursing the ground he walked on.
I wanted him alive and breathing, even if I couldn’t have him again.
“I know I have to survive,” he said, thumbs swiping my tears away. “Know why?”
“Because you know your Clan will crumble without you, which will lead to a full-out Clan war that can threaten Malhaven?”
“I can’t die without your forgiveness.” A sad smile twisted his lips. “My greatest wish, above all else, is to earn back your trust. Until then, I will never find solace, in this life or the next.”