Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Outside the Eldergrove was a flurry of activity.
Druids were everywhere, lounging in the field of wildflowers, soaking up the glorious sunshine, playing and laughing, singing and dancing, enjoying their lives to the fullest. Caelian passed by a market full of stands and brightly colored tents selling all kinds of interesting wares.
There was pottery, jewelry, tapestries, clothing, and an array of fresh fruits and vegetables.
She would venture to the market tomorrow and browse the selection of goods then, because right now all she wanted to do was walk.
She wanted to feel the cool earth beneath her feet, she wanted the warm breeze to kiss her cheeks.
More than anything, she wanted to put as much distance between herself and Kjeld as possible.
It was infuriating, the way he so boldly declared he’d fight for her. It was something a lover would do. Or a husband. Or even a loyal friend. But he was none of those things to her. He could have been. Once. But not anymore.
Caelian needed space from him.
She needed to find a way to get over him, to quit loving and pining for him. If only she could figure out how to regain the full extent of her magic, then she could fix the mess she’d created. It had been a costly error, wishing for him to fall in love with her.
The biggest mistake of her life, if she was being honest.
Perhaps the Myrkwild would listen to her truth and honor it.
“It was a mistake.” The wind carried her whisper through the fluttering leaves, and she swore the forest sighed in understanding.
“I never should have wished for him to love me. I should have been more patient. I should’ve waited for it to happen naturally.
But I was so desperate. So foolishly in love that I made an egregious, unforgivable error. I thought I could make him love me.”
Wandering further into the Myrkwild, Caelian detached herself from the invasive quiet of her mind.
She focused on the way the soft ground cushioned her feet, how the long, thin blades of grass tickled her ankles.
Her fingertips brushed the silky petals of flowers as she passed, their beautiful blossoms painting the forest like a rainbow of watercolors.
Birdsong was a welcome distraction, taking up residency in her thoughts, replacing the silenced wishes of those around her.
The fragrant, summery air coated her skin, and she pulled her locks up into a bun at the nape of her neck, fastening it in place with one of the ribbons dangling from her flower crown.
The deeper she trekked into the Myrkwild, the more magic seemed to breathe within the enchanted woods.
Wind whistled through the canopy of branches and leaves, its melodic tune reminding Caelian of a forgotten lullaby.
Trees bent and groaned, changing shape right before her eyes.
Faces emerged on the coarse trunks, each one etched with precision and care, the details so intricate it almost looked as though they were alive.
She imagined each tree told a different story of the life carved into its surface.
And she was sure if she listened carefully, if she embraced the stillness of her mind, then she would hear their voices, a projection of lost secrets and ancient lore.
Caelian imagined most might be traumatized by a forest with a mind of its own, but she was fascinated.
Mesmerized.
Her blood hummed.
A familiar calling.
Vines of ivy and bushes of climbing pink roses parted for her as she walked, unveiling a worn footpath that wound like a labyrinth through the Myrkwild.
She followed it freely, singing softly to herself as she made her way along the trodden dirt.
Golden afternoon sunlight sprinkled in through the overhang of foliage, flickering on leaves and petals like dancing faerie lights.
The Myrkwild yawned open, revealing a river as blue as the sky, so clear she could see the smooth stones beneath its surface.
A large willow stood watch near its mossy banks, its weeping branches sweeping lightly back and forth.
Perched in the damp earth near the edge of the glittering water was a wooden sign that read River Thalorien, Keeper of Memories.
Caelian padded forward, brushing the curtain of branches aside, and stepped into the willow’s protective embrace. She lowered herself onto the ground, fanning her skirts around her, and leaned against its supportive trunk.
Then she listened.
River Thalorien sang a beautiful song, bubbling and babbling, its music speaking to the deepest parts of Caelian’s healing soul. She closed her eyes, focusing on the languid current, on its ethereal voice, until she swore she could hear it calling her name.
Except she didn’t think it would have such a masculine tone.
“Caelian?”
Her eyes flew open. It wasn’t the river speaking to her at all.
It was Kjeld.
She looked up just as he moved the weeping branches aside, and relief settled into the strained lines of his features.
He stepped forward, letting the swinging ribbons of branches close behind him. “I thought you were lost.”
Caelian hugged her knees to her chest, her skirts spilling around her. She focused on the willow’s leaves, on the river just beyond, refusing to meet his gaze. “I assure you, I am not.”
“I can see that now.”
“I was trying to get away from you.” Heat crept into her cheeks at her lack of respect. Ariesian would be horrified if he heard her speak to someone in such a manner. She scrambled to her feet, dusting off her bottom and thighs. “Forgive me, I did not mean to be so rude.”
“I know.” Kjeld heaved a breath, as though he had run all the way to find her, and adjusted the straps on his vest. “This forest has a strange way of loosening our tongues.”
“Indeed.”
“How was your walk?”
“Lovely, thank you.” She hated small talk. It was painful. And awkward.
He angled his head, his gaze roving over her. “You look…comfortable. Wenfyre suits you.”
It was an unexpected compliment, not because it had nothing to do with her looks, but because for the first time since she could remember, Caelian felt seen. Like maybe he saw who she was beneath the garnish of silks and lace. Maybe he saw the pain hidden under the etiquette and decorum.
“I am. That is, I feel like I can breathe here.”
Caelian spread her arms wide and did a little twirl.
“I no longer feel like I’m suffocating, like my very essence is being smothered. The fabric of the clothing doesn’t irritate my skin. It’s soft and supple. Natural, I suppose.” She hoisted her skirts and displayed her bare feet. “And I quite enjoy walking barefoot.”
Kjeld nodded, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I noticed. In Aeramere you often appeared ill at ease. Like you wanted to claw your clothing off your skin.”
“Yes.” Caelian stilled, facing him. “Exactly.”
In the sitting room, she’d been mindful of how often she let her eyes linger on him.
But here, alone with Kjeld in the Myrkwild, she could take a moment to appreciate him.
There was no harm in looking. Besides, she liked the way sunlight bounced off his dark blond braids through the wispy willow branches.
And she enjoyed the fact that he traded in his heavy riding leathers for the loose-fitting pants slung low on his hips and the sleeveless vest that showed off his ridiculously large arms. It was almost hypnotic the way inky runes and angular lines painted his skin, the way his veins popped along corded muscle.
She hated that she couldn’t stop herself from gawking, hated even more that she wanted to run her palms against his solid abdomen and let them slink below the waistband of his pants.
Caelian tore her gaze away from him, choosing to admire her toes instead.
“Was there something you required?” She pushed a fallen strand of silver hair back behind one ear. “If not, then I must kindly ask you to leave me, because—”
“Caelian.”
Something about the tone of his voice caused her heart to stutter and skip. He crowded her, stepping into her space.
She licked her lips, daring a glance up at him.
Pain was etched across his brow, but he lifted his hands, his rough palms cupping her cheeks.
“I have been a fool. An abysmal prick. I’ve treated you unfairly, I’ve humiliated you, and I’ve broken your heart more times than I can count.
It’s shameful. Dishonorable. And I need you to know that I will spend the rest of my days on my knees before you, begging for your forgiveness. ”
Confusion plagued her. She knew he was telling the truth, the magic of the Myrkwild made it so, but she didn’t understand where this confession, this apology, was coming from. Her hands curled around his wrists.
“I appreciate your sincerity, and you need not feel as though you must grovel. We have both said and done hurtful things to one another. But I would like it very much if maybe, after all of this is over, we can be friends.”
His thumb grazed the apples of her cheeks. “I don’t want to be your friend, Starweaver.”
She peered up at him, perplexed by his indecisiveness. “Then why bother apologizing at all?”
“Because there are things I want to do to you that I would never do to a friend.” One hand moved to her hip, encircling her and drawing her into him, while the other slid to the back of her neck.
“All this time, I thought you were playing with my heart. That you were controlling my emotions. My mind refused to see the truth.”
Her pulse kicked, thundering wildly, and Kjeld’s eyes dropped to her mouth. “And what is the truth?”
“That my desire for you is beyond the whims of magic. I would forgo an eternity in Valorahan if it meant you kissed me one more time. What I feel for you cannot be contained by stars or wishes. It is endless. Limitless. A maddening obsession I can no longer contain.” Kjeld lowered his head, his lips brushing the corner of her mouth, and he whispered his next words.
“I do not care if I’m not your mate, because something greater than fate binds me to you.
Your soul calls to mine, a lyrical song I’ve longed to hear.
Your scent fills me with yearning, leaves me feral with need.
And every beat of your heart is like a damn aphrodisiac. ”
Caelian’s mouth was dry and papery. So long she’d waited for such a confession from him. Yet doubt heaved inside her, tightening her chest. “But you don’t want this. You don’t want me.”
“I was wrong. Stubborn pride and resentment blinded me. Damned me. Thank you for saving my life, for making me fae. For loving me.” He pulled back, so the blue of his eyes burned into her own. “You are all I have ever wanted.”
She was breathless now. Sticky air filled her lungs, and her blood thrummed as the tension bled from her bones, allowing her to melt into him. “I…I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll let me claim you in every way possible. Say you’ll own my heart and allow me to have yours in return.” Kjeld dropped his mouth to the side of her neck, let his teeth scrape against her skin. Throbbing heat pooled between her legs. “Say you’ll take my last name for eternity.”
Caelian whimpered. Her nose tingled and tears bloomed in her eyes. “You want to marry me?”
Kjeld eased away, just enough for her to see an emotion banking deep in his eyes, and then the rumble of his voice filled her mind.
“I wish Caelian Starstorm was my wife.”
Her magic soared, pumping through her veins with wild abandon.
She gasped, her lungs expanding as the rush of wishes and starlight flooded her with power.
Clutching his vest between her fingers, she held on as the stars bestowed their gift upon her once more.
Her blood sang an ancient hymn, one destined only for her.
A thousand voices echoed in her mind, the hushed pleas and hopeful prayers of those who had been left unanswered.
Caelian squeezed her hands into tight fists as her magic stirred, gathering in the center of her palm, promising the release of a wish.
“Make it true,” Kjeld demanded, daring her to obey. Then a quieter, desperate murmur. “Make it true.”
A tear slipped down her cheek as he cupped her hands between them.
With her eyes focused on his face, on the unwavering devotion haunting his expression, Caelian opened her right palm and unleashed the shooting star.
Beams of incandescent light rippled around her as it launched through the willow’s swaying branches, its prismatic tail leaving a trail of stardust in its wake as it fell across the sky.
“Granted,” she whispered.
“So beautiful.” But Kjeld wasn’t watching the falling star, he was looking at her.
Grabbing her left hand with his own, he laced their fingers together as a vine of earthy brown and emerald wove around their joined hands, fasting them together.
“Through all the veils of Valorahan, I pledge my life to you.” Kjeld pressed a feathery kiss to the tips of her fingers, and Caelian started to cry.
“Through all the wonder of wishes, I pledge my life to you.”
Tiny blossoms of ivory and blush pink bloomed from its coiled length, sealing their marriage. And Kjeld smiled.
A real, genuine, brilliant smile. His dimples came out to play. It illuminated the whole of his face, vanquishing the lines of scorn and torment lingering there.
“Now what?” Caelian asked with a choking laugh as he wiped away the happy tears tumbling down her cheeks.
“Now, I’m going to claim you.” His grin turned hungry, and his eyes expanded with desire. “Wife.”