Chapter Thirty-One
Embracing her father, happy tears flooding her face, Amsonia turned toward Qavox. “You came back! What changed your mind?”
“You remind me of someone I used to be long ago. Someone I want to be again, if possible. And I think I know who can help me.”
“I don’t know what you mean! There is much I do not understand,” said the princess. “Why didn’t the amulet work? What was it all for?”
“Let us go to Gaethryn. She holds the answers . . .”
—The Dragon and the Blue Star by Analise Crewe
Ana hadn’t stopped shivering since they’d arrived home. Dex had fed her hot beef broth, given her a generous pour of brandy, wrapped her in blankets, and now they sat together in front of a blazing fire.
There was a dullness to her eyes, a listlessness to her posture. “How did you know where to find me?”
“Aunt Glynis came to the club waving the letter you wrote and telling me that my foolish bride had put herself in danger. It was quite remarkable. I honestly think that she’s rather fond of you, though she’d never admit it.”
“That’s . . . unexpected.” Ana’s head drooped. “I’m so . . . tired.”
“Are you certain you didn’t sustain an injury?”
“Only to my heart. He’s gone, Dex. Papa is dead. I must let him go.” She choked back a sob, her body quivering.
“Shhh,” he said soothingly, wrapping his arm tighter around her slender shoulders. “You don’t have to do anything tonight but rest.”
“You were right all along.”
“I didn’t want to be right. I’ll help you grieve him. I have experience in that area.”
“Does the pain dull?”
“The pain . . . lessens. With time, with friendship, with . . .” Love. He wanted to tell her everything in his heart but she was grieving, lost in a dark place. He knew what that was like. He must give her time.
“We made a good team facing down those villains, did we not? I almost feel sorry for old Burt, having narrowly escaped a similar fate the first day I met you.”
His attempt at humor fell flat. Only a brief nod. Not even the glimmer of a smile.
The tables were turned and he didn’t like it. Was this what living with him was like? She was always teasing him, always trying to make him smile. And now he couldn’t do the same for her.
“Ana, talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling. It will ease your pain.”
She shook her head. “How could I have been so stupid? I trusted the letter because I followed my heart and not my head. Maybe I’ve finally learned my lesson. Maybe I’m with you in the cave. Lost in the darkness.”
“You can’t be. You’re the brightest light I know, filled with hope and optimism. They preyed upon that.”
She sighed. “I’ve always told myself that even in the darkest of times, the sun will return. Now I’m not so sure.”
“I don’t want you to lose that belief that the sun is waiting to shine again. You make me want to believe it, too.”
“It’s too much, Dex,” she sobbed, collapsing against him.
He held her tightly. “We’ll feel it together, shall we? It’s never going to disappear. The pain of losing him will always be there, like a hard knot of scar tissue on your heart. I’m willing to flay myself open for you, Ana. I would die to ease your way in life.”
He was desperate to lighten her heart, hungry for the sweet curve of her lips, the answering gleam in her eyes.
“Ana, do you know what I was doing at the Thunderbolt Club tonight?”
“Talking to Odysseus . . . carousing with your rakish friends . . . getting pummeled in the boxing ring.”
“I brought a book with me and I sat quietly reading in a corner the whole evening.”
She quirked her head. “I find that unlikely.”
“Believe it. And do you know what book I was reading?”
“A scintillating tome on the bloodlines of Yorkshire Trotters?”
“Ha. There were no horses in this book, only hedgehogs and dragons.”
She lifted her head. “What do you mean, dragons?”
“I went to Norwood & Pennington and retrieved your manuscript. They’d already had a copy made. I started where I’d left off and read straight through to the end, hardly pausing to breathe or relieve the call of nature.”
“Dex.” Her lips twitched. “Why on earth did you do that?”
“Because I wanted to see how the story ended. Whether Amsonia’s father was saved. Whether her dreaded dragon became a hero in the end.”
“You were right,” she said, her voice low and raspy. “Life isn’t a fairy tale. Fathers are lost forever. Curses can’t be lifted.”
She was lower than he’d ever seen her, lost in the despair of saying goodbye to the blind hope she’d nurtured for so long.
“He’s dead. He’s really dead.” She hung her head, tears falling on the blanket. “And nothing I say or do, no matter how fiercely I believe, nothing will bring him back.”
“He’s dead,” Dex agreed. There was no use denying it.
The anguish on her face slayed him. “But you’re alive, Ana. So vibrantly alive, you have so much light and love to gift to the world. Your book will bring joy to so many.”
“I hope . . . you’re right,” she spoke through her tears.
“I know I am.”
She lay her head on his shoulder. He let her cry, not trying to stop her, handing her a handkerchief and holding her damp hair away from her face.
When the sobs subsided, he offered her water. A little bit more brandy. Her head dropped back to his shoulder. He rocked her gently back and forth.
“I liked the ending of your book. When the curse was lifted.”
“Mmm,” she said sleepily.
“In fact, I believe that dragons can change. They can learn to shed their solitude, learn to . . . love. I saw myself in your story. I saw how my stubborn refusal to open my heart to giving and receiving love hurts everyone around me.”
He glanced down. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing even.
“Ana?” he whispered, but there was no response.
She’d fallen asleep. Exhausted from their perilous evening and from grief.
His leg was beginning to cramp. The fire was dying. But he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to disturb her. She was too beautiful, too sweet and vulnerable nestled into him, trusting his shoulder to cradle her, his arms to warm her.
She slept so soundly, the soft rustling noise of her breathing like leaves ruffled by a breeze. This was what it would be like to sleep with her at night, to listen to her breathing beside him. He wouldn’t be alone anymore.
Her hand in his, so small and trusting. He’d been given a great responsibility: her welfare, her happiness, her pleasure. He wanted to wake her with kisses, take her to his bed and truly warm her, until they were both sweaty and hot and gasping for more.
He wanted things he’d never longed for before.
He’d thought of himself as a grumbly, scarred, and dark-hearted man who was past redemption.
She was silken sunshine poured onto him, warming him.
It gave him this stubborn little flicker of hope.
Hope that he might deserve to win her heart. That she could be his.
Hope that he hadn’t succeeded in pushing her away.
That she could love him still.
God, he missed her smile. Wide and carefree. Lifting the freckles around her lips, making his heart light up. He missed her laughter, the sly way she looked at him with heat in her green eyes that seared his heart.
What could he say to make her understand that her smile was precious to him, that he’d do anything to bring it back?
He had to find a way. He had to show her what was in his heart. How she’d transformed him. How he’d strive to be worthy of her love from this night forth.