39. Maren
39
Maren
I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “All that since Neris Island?”
He didn’t answer. Eyes buried under his fingers, he didn’t make a sound. Didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“Kye.”
“I hated myself for it. I think that’s why I was so cruel to you when I found us suddenly in Calder. I knew I loved you. That I’d been in love with you for weeks. That you were using me to take Hadrian’s life. That I didn’t trust you, but I was in love with you anyway.”
“Kye,” I said, ignoring the rippling anxiety over hearing Hadrian’s name alongside the thought of my killing him.
“There are ways to end a marriage,” he murmured through his hands. “We haven’t…you don’t have to stay. You’re within your rights to leave. We could have it annulled by an Aalton Priest.”
“Kye, stop, you outright imbecile.” I grasped his hand and pulled it into my lap, wrapping my fingers around it, forcing him to let me see his eyes. “I love you.”
Silence fractured every inch of my skin, but I watched his head finally lift, searching for me. “You do?”
“Yes,” I breathed. To Mihauna and back, it was probably a mistake to tell him. It would probably hurt all the worse, when our fates came for us like Darkness on a wind, slicing into my lies and spilling my secrets for Kye to see. My eyes beat back the sudden onslaught of tears. “I love you.”
The words didn’t seem like enough. Three little words that couldn’t possibly hold the weight of what they meant. What crackled inside me, blooming and climbing and demanding my heart for what I realized had been months now.
He closed his eyes. “I’m a coward.”
“You are not.”
His throat worked. “I’m very flawed.”
I wove my fingers through his, the rough scrape of his callouses igniting under my skin. “So am I.”
“And selfish.”
“I don’t find you selfish.”
“And scarred. In more ways than one.”
“Your scars make you beautiful. In more ways than one.” Kye gulped hard, then his head dropped forward to rest on my shoulder. He released a slow, controlled breath. I leaned into him, my temple pressed against his. “I’m your wife, Kye.”
He released a shaky chuckle, as though he didn’t believe me. I pulled away only far enough he had to lift his head, and then gazed into his eyes, molten even in the potent dark.
“I’m your wife. I’ve seen your flaws and scars, and I think you’re the most beautiful creature in this world. And I need you to realize,” I whispered, sliding myself closer to him. He watched me warily, a shining track suddenly flashing down his cheek. I wiped it away with the stroke of my finger. “You did find a reason to live. And it wasn’t me. Or Hadrian. Or the war, or the crown. If there’s anyone I know who can rewrite their story, it’s you.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head vaguely, and I squeezed his hands. “You don’t want the throne? Don’t take it. You don’t want to live in the palace? Then, we won’t.”
“It’s not exactly that easy,” he began.
“It is that easy, if it means you’ll stay here with me. You want to spend your life waving your middle finger at the King? I’ll wave mine at your side. You’re not bound to your fate, Kye. But we gave our vows. You’re bound to me . And I won’t let you undermine your own worth. Not when you are what I love most.”
He watched me in the darkness, so close I gave a shudder. “Fucking Aalto,” he breathed, “say that again.”
I leaned in, speaking the words into his lips, reveling in the soft brush of his against mine. “I’m your wife. You’re bound to me.”
“And?”
I smiled against his skin. “I love you.”
His breath tumbled across my cheeks. He leaned closer and paused, the scar in the corner of his mouth a rough edge that sent a static shock cascading down my spine, glowing embers at my core.
And suddenly he kissed me, and I leaned in to meet him, gentle and slow, our mouths betraying what words couldn’t. His hands twisted in my waves, tilting my head back as his lips enveloped mine, the taste of him like fallen water on garden leaves, fresh and cold and tantalizing at once. He sent me someplace else, out of a wooden room in the dark, through wind and rain and cloud, to the stars burning in the velvet autumn sky.
I writhed as his kiss deepened, caving into me, exploring and imploring for more. He pressed in, covetous with a thirst that matched my own. Like a man who, stranded in a desert and starved of water, finds a sudden oasis. Then his forehead tilted into mine, his hands trailing the inside of the shirt hanging from my shoulders.
I lifted my arms, but his movement slowed, fingers spreading across the flat of my belly. His thumb stroked my skin in a lazy swipe.
Impatient, I pushed to my knees, swinging a leg over his lap, and heard his heart skip a beat. My long hair tickled my neck, and I banished it with a single whip of my head, needing to clear away anything that lay between him and me. Smooth, firm skin met my palms as I lifted his shirt instead, gliding my touch over the V of his abdomen, his stomach, his chest. The pad of my thumb shifted across his nipple and he shivered underneath me.
Kye let me pull the shirt off over his head, leaning forward as soon as it cleared and wrapping his arms under my behind, pulling me all the way in. Then groaned softly into my neck. My spine arched in response, desperate for the firmness of his chest, his stomach, the growing length between his legs, separated from me only by thin cotton.
I reached for it, guiding my hand between our bodies, giving the mass of it a long stroke.
“Fuck,” he gasped, the word like nectar in my ears, fueling my thirst for more of his voice. The rumble of his throat, vibration of his chest. I slid a finger inside the waistband of his soft pants, and his hand wrapped around mine, halting it in midair. “Leihani,” he breathed.
Something about his tone sent disappointment flooding through me. My arms and hands slackened, dropping away, but he pulled them back.
He hesitated. Then said, “Where’s your ring?”
Oh. Did he want me to wear it? I supposed he probably did. I swallowed, leaning further away from him. “It was in my hand. It must be in bed with us.” I listened to the soundless thoughts tumbling inside his head as he mused over what we’d both just mutually confessed. That he loved me. And I loved him. Yet I hadn’t replaced my wedding band on my finger.
Then he pressed forward, encircling me with a muscular arm, pulling me back in as his opposite hand roamed the mattress in the dark.
I swallowed, wondering what I’d say when he asked me to put it on. Because I couldn’t—not when the thought of being a Naiad floated so close to the surface of my mind. Nori’s warnings drifted vaguely in my skull.
Don’t bring him here. It is against Naiad law for a human to see us.
But he folded his other arm around me too, and I realized he was working his own band from his finger.
Two rings plunked softly onto the bedside table in the dark. “We can find another set,” he said. "Until you’re ready for those. And if you never are, that’s fine, too.”
I smiled, though I doubted he could see me, and reached for him again, rock hard and solid in my grasp.
But again, he stopped me with a hand on mine.
I made a noise that resembled a growl and felt him chuckle, his free hand delving into the tresses at the back of my scalp and gently pulling, tilting my head up at him. He kissed me, soft and deep, then nuzzled the side of his face to mine.
“I want you,” he whispered. “But I want all of you. The parts you wear like a badge of honor and the parts you hide from the world. The parts you think I should be afraid of. The beautiful and the ugly. The calm and the fire. I want the darkest and brightest of you, your fears and your dreams. I am a selfish man, Leihani. I don’t think I could settle for just half of you. I want it all.”
I listened to the quiet crash of blood in my ears, turning over words I’d never heard before. An ache burned into my chest.
Kye brushed away the remaining strands near my jaw, then smoothed his thumb over my lower lip. “I’ve had months to think about what I’d be willing to settle for. What you might let me take, and what you’d keep to yourself. And I don’t think I could be happy with just some .”
I opened my mouth, and he lifted my chin, closing it before I could speak.
“I know you have secrets. We both know. And mine—mine are all on the table. They’re yours. Every one of them. I give them to you; do with them what you please.” He licked his lips, teeth following his tongue, the newly sprouted stubble under his mouth scratching softly. “But if I give myself to you, I want yours. I want every secret you hoard away. I want you to trust me to guard them for you as closely as you do yourself. I want to know you inside and out. I want every inch of depth in your body and in that beautiful mind. I want to lay you out and worship every fucking morsel of you. And I’m willing to wait as long as it takes.”
I heaved a single, shallow breath. “You might not like what you find.”
A contract, written in blood. A vow to kill his brother. A promise I’d fight in a war he didn’t know existed.
He continued the slow swipe of his thumb across my lip, back and forth. “I’ve made my peace with that.”
“It might take a while.”
“That’s fine.”
“Years.”
The thumb faltered, but then he stretched his spine to meet me, stroking my mouth with his own. “I’d rather suffer the weight of patience than regret.” I bit my lip, nodding slowly, and began to lift off him. He grasped my thighs in an instant, anchoring me down. “Where are you going?”
I blinked into the shadow of his face. “You said—”
“I said if I give myself to you,” he breathed, voice suddenly tight. “I didn’t mention the things I’d gladly take.”