Chapter 7
Kerym
He followed Raine when the latter stomped into the cabin again, and it was as if Raine had delivered one of his crushing blows to his chest when Kerym turned to his left side, where Thissian usually hovered, about to make a quip.
Kerym’s hand flew to press against his heart.
Fuck, that hurt.
Everything hurt right now. Waking up, his heart hurt, and as each day went on, his head always began pounding, the thoughts of Thissian refusing to leave him.
Somehow, it was so much worse than Mishah, and he didn’t know what that said about him.
He’d grieved Mishah—fuck, he still did—but…
it was as if he could feel her having moved on.
She wasn’t here anymore, and no matter that people around him tried to convince him she was “watching over him,” he knew she wasn’t.
But Thissian? It was a restless sorrow that burrowed itself into Kerym’s bones whenever he thought of him. His brother… he was here, but also wasn’t.
Kerym didn’t like it. Not at all.
He shuddered as he searched for the green eyes he hoped would be waiting for him, and just as he was about to walk out of the cabin—because he just couldn’t stand the confined space, especially with the tension that layered over all their friends—they found his, Pellie’s steps lengthening as she approached him from the kitchen.
Her eyes darted between his own when she reached him, and he didn’t need to say anything for her arms to wrap around his waist.
Bending, Kerym burrowed his face into her copper hair, savoring the flowery scent that reminded him of a realm he and Thissian had visited that first year after Mishah and Thissian’s mate had died.
That time of his life had been a complete blur. Kerym couldn’t remember more than towering mountains sprinkled with snow, shadowy darkness that wrapped the realm like an impenetrable mist, and the strange, alluring scent that seemed to always cling to Pellie.
He didn’t know what it was about this little witch, but from the moment she’d strolled in with her swinging hips and called him handsome, it was as if he gravitated toward her.
He couldn’t stay away, because the feeling she invoked in him… it was one he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was something he’d always searched for—something that made his magic vibrate under his skin when it was near.
Peace. She made him feel peaceful amidst all the craziness going on around them, as if she were an anchor in the storm that raged in their world, one that was created just for Kerym, and for him alone.
As Pellie pulled back, she placed a small hand on his cheek, and when he just stared at her, she nodded. “Come on, let’s get something to drink. I think we can all use it.”
Her gaze swept out across the room, and Kerym knew it was dumb, but not having those green eyes on his own left him with a sense of emptiness.
Following her imploring stare, he realized Raine had planted himself back in the chair with the younger Rantzier watching him out of the corner of her eye, even though her head was turned toward the kitchen.
Kerym shook his head as he let Pellie drag him to the counter, where stood a dusty bottle of something that smelled strong and like it would make his limbs soft and warm.
Raine was such an idiot. Even if Kerym wasn’t able to feel the love that Raine felt for Frelina, it was so clear his friend had fallen for her, and even Kerym knew that Solana would have been supportive.
Raine’s mate would have loved that fierce little half-Fae female.
Gods, perhaps she would have even taken her for herself, turned her into a best friend, and made sure the angry little Rantzier smiled more than she worried. It was as if Raine didn’t know his mate at all. Or perhaps it was the awareness of himself that he’d lost…
Kerym muttered to himself as he took the glass Pellie offered him and downed it in one go, but his chest silenced when Pellie stepped closer, somehow sensing what he was thinking, what he needed.
With warmth traveling through his veins, Kerym wound an arm around Pellie’s waist, and as he tucked her against his body, his irritation faded with every second her green eyes fell into his.
“You’re so pretty,” Kerym rasped when she smiled at him, and despite all the shit that had happened the past few days, he grinned when Pellie swatted at him.
“One glass and you’re drunk,” she teased as she made to step away.
But Kerym only stepped with her, making her eyes widen, and his lips hiked even higher.
They’d danced around whatever this was long enough.
She’d flirted with him ever since he stepped onto Loche’s ship after Rioner kept them prisoners, and at first, he hadn’t been certain why, but he’d quickly realized she was sensitive to others’ emotions, to how they acted, and mirrored that.
Not like he was… and not like Thissian had been.
Not even like that blonde Fae female empath.
But somehow this witch understood how others worked, and then she became what they needed.
Mishah had always been Kerym’s opposite—the calm to his crazy, the steadiness to his restlessness—and he’d loved that. She’d also brought out that sense of peace within him—had been there when all he did was stroll around the world, trying to find purpose.
But Pellie? She gave Kerym more than he could throw back.
She teased him and challenged him and didn’t crack when he hurt.
And he didn’t know why, but there was something about her… a sense of home not even Mishah had brought out in him. It was as if he didn’t need to walk realm after realm—ask question after question—trying to understand why he’d awoken to this world.
“Kerym,” Pellie said, her voice lowering as the sounds around them heightened. Ardow had brought the bottle to the table where Amalise still sat, the two of them beginning a hushed conversation, while Raine appeared to be trying to work up the guts to talk to Frelina.
Shifting Pellie so that her back was against the counter while he faced out toward the sitting room, Kerym stepped between her legs, savoring the sharp intake of breath that betrayed that she was not as unaffected as she pretended when she threw her copper hair back.
“Yes, Pellie?” he responded as his eyes drew to her lips.
Could he kiss her?
It was the only thing he wanted right now.
Her body melted against his, her soft curves molding with his muscles, and he’d never cared about people watching anyway.
Raine could honestly learn a fucking thing or two.
So could that blonde human with the bandaged chest whose eyes touched his for a moment before moving back to the cup in her hand. Kerym hadn’t missed how she tiptoed around the smitten guard who was Loche’s right-hand man.
He fought his muscles’ coiling.
Hadn’t they learned life was too fucking short?
Even now? Even with the Oakgards’ Fae breathing down their necks with their armada of ships? Even with everything that happened to Elessia and Merrick? Gods… Idiots, all of them.
Pellie giggled, and damned if that sound didn’t strike right into his chest.
Looking down at her again, he raised his brows when she continued laughing.
“You… you just looked so angry but also so excited. It seemed very confusing.” Pellie placed her hand on his chest, giving him a nudge.
As if that featherlight touch could make him step away.
“Oh, I am very excited,” Kerym said in a voice that came out rougher than he meant, his gaze dragging over her until her cheeks turned rosy.
Leaning down so his face leveled with hers, he asked, “Can I kiss you?”
The room went silent—he hadn’t bothered to lower his voice, after all. But Kerym didn’t care, only lifting his eyes and throwing Pellie’s sister, who hid a smile behind her hand, a look before moving to Raine and lifting a brow in challenge until his burly redheaded friend averted his eyes.
“Kerym,” Pellie said, her cute little brows drawing together as she shook her head.
“Why not?” he asked, no guilt filling his question, only curiosity peeking through the end of the words.
He could smell her… could feel how her body responded to his, so why was she saying no?
“I don’t know… I—” Pellie bit her bottom lip, and his grin slipped back onto his face.
“That just makes me want to kiss you more,” he mumbled, his fingers twitching when she pressed herself against him, in complete contrast to her shaking her head.
Gods, he wanted to weave his hands into her hair and kiss her and fall into her and never get up again. It was as if her entire being filled him—like a sparkling liquor being poured into a tall glass—and he wanted more. Much more.
“I…”
Kerym nodded for her to continue, allowing his nose to fill with her flowery scent—the one that told him she did want this. She wanted this as much as he did. But something was holding her back.
“I think you’re channeling all your feelings about your brother and everything that happened into me,” Pellie whispered when the hushed conversation and clattering of glasses took up behind her again.
“I don’t… I don’t know if this is really what you want or if you’re just sad and hoping that pouring all of that into whatever this is will bring you some relief. And… I don’t think you know either.”
Kerym stopped himself from rolling his eyes.
Yes, it fucking killed him to think about Thissian. Especially knowing what he’d done for Kerym the past centuries—how the idiot had taken his pain.
Yes, he felt everything more now. But that included the good feelings.
Thissian couldn’t have known or he wouldn’t have done it, but everything had been muted the past years… as if Kerym had lived in a world painted with fog, everything slow and sodden.
But now? Now he felt everything.
And like Frelina, he wanted to feel it all. He needed to. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was important that he did.
Right now. In this place. He was exactly where he should be.
“I want you. That I know for sure,” Kerym responded, watching her face twist with battling emotions.
“I do. But apparently, I need to show you before I kiss you for the first time.” He leaned down so his cheek brushed against hers, careful not to let his lips touch the ear he breathed into. “And I like a challenge.”
His heart leaped when he looked up and her eyes glossed with heat, but he made himself take a step back, grateful for the door that slammed open, letting in drops of rain with the harsh wind as first Venko, then Loche and Zaddock walked through the door.
Kerym waited until the screaming rustles quieted as Zaddock shut the door. Then he stepped around the counter, tugging at Pellie to come with him.
His eyes narrowed as he swept them across the serious men: the sorrow that hardened the regent’s face, the worry darkening Zaddock’s gaze—the one that kept him from storming up to the blonde cautiously watching him—and the pinched look Venko carried as he settled into Ardow’s lap, the latter wrapping his arms around him and leaning his chin on his shoulder.
“What happened?” Kerym demanded as a current ran over his skin, making his ears perk and body tense in response.
Someone must have died. There was no other explanation—nothing that could cause the regent’s slumped shoulders as he swept the bottle off the table and sucked down deep gulps.
Heartbeats thundered through the room. Kerym shot Raine a sharp look when he noted Frelina’s jump, grateful when his friend finally got it together and stepped up behind her chair, placing his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
“Well?” Kerym said as he approached Loche, keeping Pellie a half step behind him, his senses screaming at him to protect her.
“I’m getting married,” Loche declared.
The room was silent for a beat.
Then Kerym threw his head back and laughed.
“You… you looked like… you were about to go to your own funeral,” Kerym hissed out whenever he got an ounce of air. “And… y-you’re just… getting married?”
“Fucking feels like it,” Loche muttered before taking another swig.
Up until today Kerym had believed the gods were responsible for the mate bonds, but after what Soria had said, he wasn’t so certain anymore. Even so—even if the gods were responsible, and he should despise them for everything they’d done… this was hilarious.
“Iviry?” he got out as he continued fighting for air, glad to hear Pellie giggle behind his bent back.
He didn’t need the regent to respond to know it was. Of course whatever or whoever was responsible would find a way for him and her to be together. That’s how it was with mates. And how it was with love in general.
Love always found a way.
Through hurt and pain and fear and death, love always remained.
He knew Thissian and Merrick hated all the things war brought, but for Kerym… he also saw the love—the damn adoration—that drove people to protect each other, to fight for what they believed in, to just get up again after being slammed down, again and again.
With a final slap of his knees, Kerym straightened and gently pulled Pellie to his side.
Shooting her a look, he said, “I have always wanted to get married.”
And despite her shaking her head, her cheeks furiously red, Kerym decided at that moment that he’d make this beautiful little witch his wife.
He’d fight for his fucking life to make sure the day he dropped to a knee, there would be no hesitation in her eyes as she said yes.