Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
I had soaked for so long that I lost track of time. Minutes might have passed, or maybe hours, but I delighted in every second of washing my body twice over from head to toe. I coiled the lavender and sage bubbles between my fingers, now wrinkled from the water. It might have been Ronan’s magic or my imagination. Still, when the water cooled, the tap seemed to turn itself on, releasing a small trickle of scalding hot water, but just enough to restore the perfect temperature once again.
I sighed, reluctant to leave the bliss of the tub, and yet—reality loomed. An inevitable confrontation awaited me outside. Ronan. Our solitude presented the perfect opportunity for me to demand answers and press him for every detail to unravel the mysteries. However, after some contemplation, I realised I wasn’t quite ready to confront everything I intended to ask. A subtle flutter in my stomach emerged, a disquieting sensation born in the fae's presence. I didn’t fear for my life with him; in fact, it was the opposite. I felt an odd sense of security in his company, a notion that was both reassuring and unnerving.
I stood and reached for the folded towel on the table beside me. Placing my feet on the cool tile floor, I briskly wrapped the towel around me and approached the door, hesitating. My initial glance around the bedroom had been cursory, but if it mirrored the overall quality of the bathing chambers, it was going to be quite lovely.
I knocked once, and the following silence felt too oppressive. I tried again, this time with more force.
“Are you decent?” I called, expecting a reply. I was met with silence again. “I’m coming out,” I declared, my hand edging the door open with caution. I poked my head through the slightly ajar door. “Ronan?” I called.
I tiptoed into the room before coming to an abrupt halt. The space was small, bathed in the warm glow of oil lanterns. A vacant, unlit fireplace occupied one corner. A wooden chair was positioned before it, with a blanket draped over its arm and a fur rug beneath. Next to it was a little table with a board game, ready to play.
An arranged bed pressed against the wall opposite, and I tilted my head, tracing a trail of rose petals from the mattress to the floor. Sheer curtains hung on either side of the bedposts. A gasp escaped me. Someone had made a mistake and gave us the wrong room.
A noise sounded behind me, and I whirled, reaching for the nearest object—a book on the nightstand. I held it in the air and tightly gripped my towel with my other hand. Ronan stood in the doorway with a tray of food in his hands. He stood motionless, slowly scanning my entire body with his eyes. His jaw clenched, and his hands tightened. A flush crept across my cheeks as I met the gaze of the tall silhouette bathed in gold from the flickering lanterns. It was almost angelic, reminiscent of the first time I laid eyes on him, though his chest was bare this time. Dressed only in his britches, his muscular frame was a testament to years of training. The ink I had glimpsed beneath his clothing was now fully visible, starting behind his ear and trailing down his neck to his collarbone and then his arm and hand.
He turned away from me and set the tray on the dresser, allowing me to scan every inch of his body. Scars adorned his back, and I felt an undeniable urge to reach out and run my fingers along the raised, pink flesh on his skin to alleviate the pain they must have carried. The thought of punishing the person responsible crossed my mind.
When Ronan turned to face me again, I blinked, realising I’d been staring. I opened my mouth to ask him about the origin of his scars, but the air thickened between us, and it was clear he had no desire to answer my questions. The silence grew tangible, interrupted only by the gurgle of my stomach. The noise snapped me from my trance.
I glanced down, only then noticing the state I was in—naked, with only a small towel around me. Droplets dripped from my hair to the floor. I went to step back, but my foot collided with something, and I lost my balance. Ronan moved so fast that his arm was around me in an instant. I reached for him, curling my hands around his neck. His grip tightened as we hit the bed, yet the soft mattress cushioned our fall. His other hand cupped the back of my head as his body pressed against mine. He focused his weight on his arms to keep from crushing me.
A short laugh left his mouth, and I laughed with him. A spark of curiosity ignited between us. His silver-speckled eyes were inches from my face, and his closeness took my breath away.
“You’re quite the clumsy one, aren’t you?” he remarked, his mouth curling to one side.
I playfully hit his chest and lifted my head, peering over his shoulder.
“The food is fine,” he assured me. Steam rose from the plate, now sitting atop the chest of drawers. Only when I looked back at him did I realise something was amiss. I glanced between us and gasped. My towel had vanished.
“Oh my goodness!” I squealed, withdrawing my arms from his shoulders in an attempt to conceal my nakedness. “Where is my towel?”
“Your towel?”
“Yes, my towel! Where did it go?” I sighed. “Close your eyes!”
“I can assure you, I didn’t see any?—”
“Ronan, do as I say and close your eyes!” I commanded.
“Okay,” he complied and shut his eyes as instructed.
“Now, if you could please get off me,” I urged. I pushed him, and he rolled onto the bed beside me. “Keep them shut, okay? Stay like that. Don’t move!”
He lay on his back, facing the ceiling with his eyes closed. I waved my hand in front of his eyes to ensure he wasn’t peeking before I rolled off the bed, landing with a thump on the ground. “Ouch!” I shrieked.
“Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up, his eyes still closed.
I held out my arm, keeping the other across my chest.
“I’m fine! Please just keep them closed!” I stood up, hurrying over to a nearby chair. I hid behind it while frantically searching for something—anything—to cover me. I reached for a blanket and wrapped it around my body.
“Can I open my eyes now, Aleithra?” he asked. Catching my breath, I crossed my arms over my chest.
“Yes, I’m decent,” I said, flicking his chest, “You should put a shirt on!”
“I could say the same about you.” Ronan pushed himself off the bed and walked over to the dresser. “Where are my clothes?”
“What is all this?” I gestured at my surroundings, pointing specifically at the roses on the side table. Ronan raised his hands innocently.
“I just went downstairs to see Pippa. It seems she has a sense of humour.” He smirked, looking at the decor.
“I can’t stay here with you, Ronan! This room is meant for, well…” My voice trailed as I reached for what looked like a dried piece of fruit on the tray. When I shoved it in his mouth, he raised an eyebrow, daring me to complete my sentence. “You know!” I waved my hand nervously back and forth between us.
“Go on,” he urged.
“Are you blind? There is only one bed, Ronan! It’s completely inappropriate, and I don’t even know you.”
He shrugged. “Well, I guess you’ll have no choice but to get to know me. She assured me they have nothing else available.” I huffed, yet it sounded more like a snort. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”
I scanned the room, trying to fathom how and where he intended to do that.
“Alright then, and what about my clothes?”
He reached for the neatly folded stack of garments and handed them to me. “Pippa picked these out for you. I wasn’t sure about your size, but she has a good eye. I’m sure they will fit,” he explained. I draped the blanket around my bust with one hand and began unfolding the clothes one by one. It was a pair of pants paired with a crisp white shirt. I couldn’t help but smile, knowing the white wouldn’t stay pristine for long, but he was right—it was more than suitable. It seemed Pippa had also thought ahead, including socks and undergarments of some sort.
I dangled the red bralette and pantyhose in the air, along with the short, lacy nightdress. My eyes widened. “What in the world!” I squealed.
Ronan, wholly consumed with the food before him, turned his head to see what I was referring to. He coughed when he observed the items swinging from my hands, scattering bits of food in all directions. He wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, revealing the flex of his torso. His eyes widened, conveying not just surprise but a hint of amusement, too. Apparently, he found the situation rather entertaining.
“Is your friend downstairs mad? I can’t wear these!” I protested.
Ronan chuckled, yet his sharp jawline tensed as he struggled to regain his composure. It was the first time I had heard him laugh, and the sound evoked something inside me that I couldn’t quite grasp. I desperately wished to hear it again, and suddenly, I wanted to know everything there was about this man.
“I’m glad you find this amusing,” I retorted, narrowing my eyes as I gathered the pile of clothing in my hands.
He coughed and said, “I’ll find you something else.”
I turned from him and walked behind the dressing partitions in the corner of the room.
“Don’t bother!” I called over my shoulder. “This is all your fault, you know. I wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you!”
“Me?” he rebutted.
“Yes, you Ronan! It’s no coincidence that ever since the night I met you, my world turned upside down.”
Disrobing, I dressed, slipping the bralette over my head and pulling the pantyhose up past my knees. “Ridiculous,” I muttered before stepping into the nightgown. I pulled it up over my shoulders, yet the thin straps and sheer material did little to hide my body. Frustrated, I slapped my hips. I might as well wear nothing at all. I didn’t have time for this. I had questions for Ronan, and I would not rest until he answered every single one.
“Alright, I’m coming out. No laughing,” I warned.
The room was silent as I stepped out from behind the shades. Ronan was settled in the chair by the fireplace when he glanced up at me. He stood abruptly, and I suddenly felt his eyes trace my body, inch by inch. My cheeks heated. Anticipating what he was about to say, I rolled my eyes and started to speak, but shadows enveloped him before I could, stretching out from every part of his body.
“Aleithra, you look?—”
“Ronan, you have—” I pointed to the shadows forming around him.
“Shadows,” he uttered, running his fingers through his hair. He averted his eyes from me and looked at the wall. “I am constantly surrounded by them. It fades when I am in the light, and I’ve learned to shield it, but there are times when I find it difficult to control,” he explained, his last words slowing as he glanced at me again.
He strode to the corner of the room and dimmed the lanterns. Leaning against the wall, he disappeared before my eyes.
“Ronan,” I called.
“Behind you.” I spun, unable to trace his voice. I tiptoed to the opposite side of the room, squinting. “Where have you gone?”
“Here,” he answered again, but his voice now emanated from the bathing chamber. He could walk between the shadows—the night at The Oak Tavern when he disappeared, the winter solstice when he enveloped me in darkness and shielded me from the world.
I felt his presence behind me, and I closed my eyes, sensing the warmth of his body and his breath against my shoulder. Had I imagined the cool touch of his lips against my skin, or had it been one of his passing shadows? My bare skin prickled with bumps from the sudden contact, and I whirled to find Ronan standing before me—the tall, unreadable dark-haired stranger forged of shadows and darkness. The shadows danced around him, shaping wings on either side of his back and claiming every inch of our small room. While the sight might have prompted fear or the instinct to cower, I felt none. Instead, a peculiar sense of déjà vu washed over me, as if I had glimpsed his face in another lifetime, in memories that never existed.
I reached for him until I brushed the darkness, and in an instant, I was transported to a different time.
I saw Ronan as a baby, yet his mother’s face was blurred as she rocked him in a chair. She wrapped her arms tenderly around him, humming a lullaby to guide him into slumber.
In another fleeting moment, Ronan appeared as a young boy, no more than seven years old. He was in a castle, engaged in a spirited game of hide and seek with a group of boys. Ronan opened a door and discovered a little girl with long black hair staring back at him. She joyously clapped her hands .
“You found me, Ronan!”
“I found you, princess.” He opened his arms as she rushed towards him, scooping her up in a warm embrace.
Then, Ronan was in his teenage years in the middle of a training room. He was clad in armour and wielded a sword, battling another man. I flinched every time the swords touched and sparked or whenever the sword got too close to him.
“Channel your shadow into your sword, Ronan,” the man demanded. He raised his sword above his head and brought it down on his opponent.
Another flash brought another fleeting vision. Ronan appeared a few years older, looking remarkably different. His hair was now long and cascaded down his broad shoulders. I studied the man before me, frantically packing clothes into his bag with a determined look on his face. I furrowed my brow, noting the intensity driving his actions. I jumped as a blurred figure burst into the room; though the details were unclear, it was undoubtedly a male whose deep, authoritative voice commanded attention.
“You can’t leave, Ronan. I will not allow it!”
“I cannot stay here, knowing what I now know, Father. I must try.”
I took a few steps backward, feeling like I was intruding on this personal moment. This was Ronan’s memory—I shouldn’t be here. I glanced around, but the door had vanished.
“You won’t change this, son. I’m sorry, but that’s not how it works. I wish it was different for you—truly, I do—but the moment you accept what the Enchantress told you, the sooner you can move on with your life.”
“She showed me, father. I don’t know when it will happen, but it hasn’t taken place yet. I still have time.” He threw his pack over his shoulder and walked out of the room.
His father yelled after him, “You cannot change the fates, Ronan. There will be consequences if you do. You have your duty here!” Ronan paused yet glanced back with bloodshot eyes, his exhaustion marked with the dark circles beneath them. He stared back at his father, silently pleading with him to understand.
With a trembling hand, he brought his fist to his chest. “She’s my mate!”
Shielding my eyes from the blinding light, I covered my face, and when I reopened my eyes, I stood behind Ronan. Shirtless, he kneeled before the mortal king with his head bowed. “You have my oath, King Theon. If you spare a life at my request when the time comes, I will forever be in your debt.”
The king bowed his head, sealing the agreement—a vow between them. Ronan grunted, reaching for his neck as spirals of ink crawled down his body and chest, weaving into his flesh. My eyes filled with tears as I watched Ronan in pain. Speckles of blood dripped onto the ground, and the king sighed.
“The oath is complete. Take him away.” Two of the king’s guards marched toward Ronan, hauling him to his feet and dragging him away.
“No!” I yelled, but they didn’t hear me. I ran toward them. “I’m here, Ronan.” His eyes were squeezed shut, his face etched with pain. He didn’t hear me; he couldn’t see me. What was happening? “Put him down! ” I screamed, reaching for him to pull him free, but my hands passed through his body, and I stumbled forward, landing on the hard surface. I held out my hands, willing my fire to ignite and incinerate the place to ashes. It didn’t work. I was powerless. Helpless, I watched the guards drag Ronan away from me. The vision faded before my eyes.
I blinked, and the room around me came alive again. I turned my head, noticing the red rose petals scattered across the floor and the chest with the lantern against the corner wall. I was back. Ronan watched me closely as the shadows returned to envelop his body. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I felt my chest heaving.
“Jayne, are you okay?” Ronan asked; concern etched his features. I touched my forehead, feeling a little dazed and confused. Had my mind been playing tricks on me? “You’ve gone pale. Come, sit down. You need to eat something.”
I nodded; I couldn’t recall the last time I had eaten. I had neglected to eat for several days, and I hadn’t noticed the toll it had taken until now, leaving me weak. Ronan walked me over to the chair by the fireplace and helped me sit down before crossing to the dresser. He took the lid off the tray of food, wafting the glorious smell throughout the room. With a plate in one hand and a cloth in the other, he rested the square cloth over my legs and sat the plate on my knees.
“Thank you.”
He nodded, and I began cutting the meat with my knife and fork. I met his eyes, which had now returned to a chestnut brown, the warmth of honey. I took small bites of the slow-cooked meat, focusing on the way it sounded as I rolled it in my mouth, savouring the taste of sweet wine. Overwhelmed by the images replaying in my mind, I struggled to know where to start. How could I address everything I had just witnessed? Inhaling deeply, a sense of satisfaction filled my stomach, courtesy of the food before me, as I contemplated broaching the subject.
Ronan moved to the corner of the room, and he watched me now, his expression unreadable. He studied me intently, resting his index finger on his lip. He wore a silver ring, which reflected the light, twinkling in my eye. I narrowed my gaze at him. A finely crafted piece of jewellery for someone claiming to be a common thief. Who was he trying to deceive? A faint, well-contained smile lingered on his lips, yet he hid it behind his hand—a subtle expression I had observed in every one of our encounters. I assumed it had been years since he allowed himself such a simple pleasure, and something deep inside of me wanted to find out what had caused his sadness, and when I did, I wanted to rip it apart with my own two hands.
“Ronan, may I ask you something?”
“Anything.” He locked his eyes onto mine, his sincerity clear.
“Had we met before that night in The Shady Oak Tavern?”
“No.”
“I deserve more than a one-word answer, Ronan.”
On the mantle, Ronan reached for a goblet and a small bottle of liqueur, pouring himself a drink. I watched his muscles ripple as he did. The sweet and spicy aromas wafted through the air as he downed it in one swift motion. Ronan bowed his head, resuming his familiar grace and poise. I anticipated the return of his directness or brevity, but it never surfaced. He simply met my eyes again, and I remembered the king’s men dragging him away. I hesitated, suddenly feeling exposed.
“Why were you there that night? Why were you in Sagaya, Ronan?” I didn’t know if he would answer me or whether he would spin me a lie if he did. He looked down at the goblet in his hand and tilted it on its side. His brows furrowed, and he didn’t meet my gaze.
“I had been watching you for four days before that night. I was sent to Sagaya to track you,” he stated with no remorse.
“Who sent you?” I knew the answer already, but I asked anyway.
“King Theon summoned me,” he sighed, leaning against the wall. “He summoned me, and on the occasions when he does, I have little choice but to carry out his orders. I was ordered to find your brother. I was under strict instructions to hunt him down and kill him at first sight. The king sent me to locate the future Commander of the Fae Army—the halfling traitor, as he called him.” Ronan stood up, walking back to the mantle to return the goblet to the shelf.
“Jesse,” I whispered, and Ronan continued.
“Little did I know, he had sent me to kill a child. A boy with curly hair and dirt on his cheeks, who loved nothing more than to lie in the hay, read books, or stroll in the woods to find a flower for each of his sisters every morning.” I watched Ronan’s handsome features contort with displeasure and disgust. He was angry with the king, angry at himself, and the cards he had been dealt. He stopped and looked at me, his eyes softening. “I couldn’t. No matter the cost, Jesse has to make it. But now it seems the king has lost faith in me.”
“Geoffrey,” I added, and he nodded.
“Geoffrey is very powerful, so the king sends him to ensure the job gets done. Geoffrey was never part of the plan, but something has changed, and they haven’t made me aware of it.” He trailed off. “He has the Seer.”
Ronan reached for my now-empty plate and placed the dish with the other items on the tray. He crossed the room to the door and swung it open, carefully setting the tray outside in the hallway and shutting the door with a squeak. Securing the latch midway, he ran his finger along the edges. A mixture of blue and green light emitted from the doorframe, forming a protective shield around it. I considered telling Ronan about Hattie the Tree Sprite. I wanted to ask him about the prophecy; however, something told me to hold off on that, too.
“When I was a little boy, I overheard legends among the ancient fae. Many years ago, it was foretold that a being from another realm had been placed on earth by the gods themselves to predict the future—‘The Seer.’ They had the gift of sight.”
Ronan walked to the edge of the bed and sat, resting his elbows on his knees. His muscles twitched and veins protruded in his forearms from the pressure of his weight.
“Interestingly enough, he remained hidden for decades, using the power of glamour and shapeshifting to stay out of sight.”
“He grew bored and curious of the goings on beyond the wall and often travelled to and from our two worlds. It was speculated that he fell in love with a mortal and decided to stay there. He couldn’t bring her here, after all, so he stayed with her—he chose a life with her, even if it had a price. The king, at the time, got word of this and entrapped him.”
“But how is that possible? If the Seer could see what was going to take place, how could he not see that the king’s hand was waiting for him?” I asked. Ronan shook his head.
“No, but you see, that is his curse. He cannot see into his own future, only the future of others or what will be foretold.”
“He is now a prisoner?”
“Yes. They captured his wife and children and used them as bait. When the Seer came for them, the king tortured and killed them right in front of his eyes. His men bound him in an iron cage, treating him like an animal, like all the other prisoners in the Obsidian Dungeons. There have been two mortal kings since his capture. That’s two lifetimes of torture and emptiness. The reigning king will use him whenever he sees fit, and with the Seer, they are always one step ahead. When you wielded the hearthstone to send your brother to Faerie, things became unclear. King Theon wants you, Jayne, and he wants you alive. He has your brother, and now he has come for you. The Seer has…” He trailed off, not finishing his sentence. “I thought you would be safe with Prince Ambrose and the others, but I was wrong. It seems that every path leads to the same place. The only way to stop this is to kill him.”
“Kill the king or the Seer?”
“Whoever we can get to first. We must be smart and keep changing our plans, so he can’t see what’s next. With you and I together, I think we can do this.”
“Why? Why are you doing all this, Ronan? What are you getting out of this? Why help me at all?” His eyes bore into my soul. I wasn’t na?ve; I knew there was so much he wasn’t telling me. He reached for the bottle and poured himself another drink.
“Let’s just say I have my reasons.”
Silence followed, and I didn’t speak. I got up and took the flask from his hands, taking a large mouthful. It was bitter and warm as it trickled down my throat “How…” I began, coughing and closing my eyes. I put my hand on my chest. “How do you know about Prince Ambrose? You even spoke of Nicolias yesterday, like you know them.”
Ronan stepped closer to take the flask from my grasp. “You should get some rest.” He walked over to the bed and pulled down the cover. I observed him closely, his action inviting a strange warmth to my chest. I sighed.
“No, Ronan. We’re not finished yet. I have so much to ask you,” I protested, yawning and covering my mouth with the back of my hand. Exhaustion had taken me by surprise, and I could barely keep my eyes open.
He came over to me, then. “I assure you, you can ask me all you need and more tomorrow. Come now.” In one swift movement, he scooped me up in his arms, and I yelped, hands reaching for his neck.
“Ronan, put me down!” I laughed, kicking my legs.
“You are like a child, you know that? First, you refuse to eat and drink, now sleep—what will it be next?” He tried to drop me onto the bed, but I locked my arms around his shoulders, pulling him down with me. There it was again—his laugh. It was such a glorious sound, a melody so divine. It not only captivated and enchanted my heart, but it forged a connection between our souls. Our bodies moved in a synchronised rhythm as I joined in before we stilled in each other’s presence, my eyes tracing every contour of his face, saving it to my memory.
Hesitantly, he reached for my face, delicately tracing the peak of my cheekbone. I couldn’t help but close my eyes at his touch, savouring the feel of his fingertips on my skin and hating myself for doing so.
“You might just be the most challenging prisoner I’ve ever dealt with.” His words brushed against my skin, but I resisted the urge to lean into him. I propped myself up onto my knees and shot him a defiant glare.
“Well, you can release me, and then you won’t have to deal with me anymore,” I said, a smile playing on my lips. His mouth twitched at the sides.
“Release you?” he growled possessively, rising to his feet. He reached for the folded blanket at the edge of the bed, his eyes lingering on my bare thighs before draping it over me. “The truth is, Aleithra, now that I have you, I couldn’t let you go now, even if I tried.”
His words lodged in my throat like a dagger, rendering me breathless. Every time I looked at him, the images replayed in my mind. His pain was palpable, etched into his features. I saw the weight of the oath he had sworn to the king, a promise that bound him with unspoken chains. Somewhere out there, he had a mate, who he was determined to find, no matter the cost.
He caught himself for a moment and turned away from me. He stood up and walked towards a chair nestled in the room’s corner, where a spare pillow and blanket resided. Laying my head down and turning to the side, I observed him as he carefully arranged them into a pile on the ground next to the bed. I watched his muscles move and flex before he extinguished the lights.
Starlight trickled into the room as my eyelids fell heavy. Outside, voices grew louder as they passed through the hall, startling me. I sat upright.
Ronan groaned. “Are you going to do that every time someone passes? May I remind you we are in an inn above a tavern and next to a brothel? We will be hearing all kinds of noises through the night; you will have to get used to it.”
“Unlike you, Ronan, I have spent little time in a place like this. I feel uneasy.” I propped myself up and held out my hand. “Give me your knife!”
“So, you can cut me in my sleep? No, thank you.”
“Ronan, come now. We have moved past all that. We are—” I tried to think of the appropriate word for the two of us. We had a plan; we had a goal. We needed each other. Acquaintances, maybe? “Friends.”
“Friends?” he repeated. I couldn’t see his face, but his tone suggested he wasn’t thrilled with my word choice.
I sighed. “I won’t hurt you. I just want to have it next to me.”
“That sounds like a dangerous idea.”
“I feel nervous without a weapon. I won’t be able to sleep like this.” He stood, then, the shadows forming a silhouette around his body.
“You are sharing a room with a faerie who can manipulate darkness and shadows, who vowed to protect you, and you’re worried about drunken laughter in the distance?”
He reached for the pillow he had left behind, and I looked at him, puzzled. “What are you doing?” He gently pushed me over toward the wall, and I squealed.
“Excuse me!” I pulled the sheet up over my bralette, unnerved by his closeness. “What are you doing?”
“We are friends, remember? Now, move over a little more, would you?”
I was in utter disbelief, yet I obeyed. He sat down on the bed beside me, the weight of his body on the mattress drawing me closer to him.
“I can’t sleep down there, and you are clearly not sleeping up here, so there’s no point in us both being unrested.” I went to get up, and he reached across my body, halting me. I peered down at his arm. I wondered if he heard the thudding of my heart. “I will stay awake until you fall asleep.”
I was acutely aware of his closeness, the way our arms touched, and the warmth of his body. I had never been in the same room as a man, let alone a bed. This was too close for me—too much. Slowly, I lowered onto my back, the soft pillow cushioning my head as I stared at the cobwebs in the woven lattice above us. I felt him do the same, and I released a breath, one I didn’t realise I was holding. Oddly enough, I felt more at ease. Every time I was close to him, I felt… “I–”
“Go to sleep.” His voice was softer and croakier from the late hour. I turned to watch him, noting the small slithers of moonlight painting the side of his profile, emphasising his long, thick black lashes.
“Ronan,” I whispered, careful not to disturb his rest. “You’re not who I expected you to be.”
“And you, Aleithra,” he exhaled deeply as if releasing a burden he had carried for an eternity, “are exactly who I imagined you would be.”