Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Ari
“Thanks for last night,” Felix murmurs, his eyes still sleepy as he looks down at me. I’m not sure when exactly he rolled on top of me, but he woke me up with kisses a minute ago, so I’m not complaining.
“Maybe I should be the one thanking you,” I reply, chasing his mouth for another kiss. “I came so hard that I’m pretty sure I blacked out.”
His mouth curves into a smile that I can feel. “You’re welcome. But I meant, thanks for coming to the game and bringing Riley. He had the time of his life, and I really liked knowing that you were there.”
I both love and hate the edge of vulnerability in Felix’s voice.
It reassures my own deep insecurities to know I can affect him like that, but also, my Felix should never feel anything but content and secure.
Which leads to me hating myself, because he’s not “my” Felix, and he never can be—not that way.
I have nothing to offer him, not even myself.
“I liked being there,” I admit. “I loved watching you play. You’re so talented, Fe. It’s beautiful to see.”
His cheeks pinken. “So you’d come to more games? Even after you go back to working full time at the DEA?”
“Of course! I’m still learning how everything works, but you’ve converted me into a hockey fan. I’m going to be at every game I can, supporting you.”
My words seem to echo through the room. I’d think it was just me, but Felix’s expression has changed, tightening a little, going from open and happy to tentative.
“I’m glad,” he says. “I know there will be times when you’ll be on shift or have other stuff on, but I like when you’re there to support me.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
“And,” his eyes search my face, “if you wanted, I could support you too.”
I chuckle. “Unfortunately, my job isn’t one where we charge spectators to watch.”
“Ha. Ha. Funny. No, I just meant that if you wanted to talk, I could listen. No pressure. But I know you’ve got stuff going on, and it seems like sometimes it’s heavy. I probably wouldn’t be able to help with any of it, but I’m a pretty good listener.”
My body must have turned to concrete, it feels that heavy.
I don’t know what to say—don’t know if I could say it, even if I had a whole speech prepared.
Talking to Felix about everything that weighs on me would be the worst thing I could do.
He would hate me if he knew the truth. Hate everything about me.
That’s why being with him now is the most selfish thing I’ve ever done—partly because I can’t give him the forever I so desperately wish I could, but mostly because if he knew who I really was, he wouldn’t want that forever anyway. Wouldn’t want anything to do with me.
He definitely wouldn’t be in my bed, waking me with kisses as he lies on top of me, offering to share my burdens and watching me with a worried face.
I muster a smile from somewhere. It feels stiff on my face, but it has to be better than the blankness I had before. “I appreciate that. There’s a lot I can’t talk about because it’s classified, but if I ever need to vent, I know where you are.”
The worry lifts, and he grins as he tosses back the covers and climbs out of bed. “Good. Come on, get up. I’ll make us pancakes for breakfast.”
Felix saunters toward the bathroom, an extra little sway in his step, but I don’t let myself look. I don’t deserve it. Not after the way I lied to his face.
I manage to keep up the facade of normality through breakfast and even after I get to work.
The morning briefing is a little longer than usual, because apparently Raeulfr was inspired by the game last night and wants to do more to encourage elves to love hockey.
Brandt’s wild enthusiasm probably didn’t help any—I’m pretty sure Wil is currently trying to talk Steffen down from a bout of paranoia after hearing about plans for aerial hockey played in dragon form.
He wanted it to be aerial ice hockey, but Wil pointed out that they couldn’t manage the logistics involved.
I don’t even know what those logistics would be.
Did he want a floating ice rink big enough for ten dragons to play on it?
Eoin looks tired when he finally sends us back to work, and I pause beside him. “Coffee?”
The expression of pure longing is all the answer I need, and I chuckle. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“No, wait. I’ll come with you.” He stacks the report folders and dumps them on his desk. “I don’t want to be here for the rush of questions that will no doubt descend when today’s updates go out.”
“You’re a smart man.” I wait while he locks down his computer, and then we head toward reception and the elevators. There’s coffee in the break room, of course, but everyone knows that an offer of “Coffee?” means “I’m escaping to the café across the street.”
We pause at reception, where Dáithí is juggling several people at once, and Eoin mimes that he’ll bring coffee back for him. If I didn’t already know they’re together, I would after that. Dáithí’s look of gratitude is basically the promise of a blow job.
The café is always busy at this time of morning, as office workers like us realize that we didn’t fuel up enough for a day of corporate droning and desperately race off for a caffeine infusion.
The smart ones hold informal team meetings right here in the café.
We join the line for our turn, greet the cashier and barista, and then wait at the end of the counter for our drinks.
“I swear, this job will be the death of me,” Eoin mutters. “He’s such a calm person. How can he get caught up in things that make me want to cry?”
“It’s a sporting event,” I say patiently, not for the first time. “It’s good for him to be social, and it’s good for the community to get involved in sports. You had fun last night, admit it.”
He grumbles a bit more, but grudgingly nods. “I don’t mind the event as much as the part where he insists on walking through the crowds. It makes it so much harder to protect him when there are people pressing up against him.”
That makes my skin crawl too. “Could we talk him into controlled meet-and-greets? Something a little more structured than him just walking out into a mass of strangers.”
“Eoin,” the barista calls, and we go to get our drinks.
“Maybe,” Eoin says a minute later as we’re crossing the street. “We’d need to phrase it right, but even if it doesn’t completely stop the crowd-wandering, it might reduce it.”
We throw around some ideas for how to manage that as we ride the elevators back up to our floor, and then I leave Eoin to make kissy faces with Dáithí while I head back to my desk.
I’m just about to enter the security office when the door behind me—Raeulfr’s door—opens.
“Oh good, Ari. I was coming to find you.”
Because it’s always a good thing when the leader of your species and your ultimate boss unexpectedly comes in search of you. Mustering a smile, I turn around. “What can I help you with, sir?” Please say hockey tickets.
Instead, he steps back and holds the door wide. “Please come in. I wanted a word.”
Even better. Keeping my face neutral, I follow him into his office and wait while he closes the door and goes to sit… in one of the armchairs over by the window. That means it’s not going to be a quick, business-related conversation.
I take the chair opposite and set my coffee cup on the table between us.
“Don’t let that go cold,” he says. “I know how much caffeine you all drink.”
A little of my tension unravels. He wouldn’t be making jokes about my caffeine intake if I’d done something wrong. Maybe he just wants an informal update on the outreach program.
“I had a wonderful time at the game last night,” he begins, and I relax even more.
“So did I. With all the changes the Warhammers have made, they’re going to be a team to reckon with this year.” I hope. As Felix informed me, it’s still too early to tell.
“That would be fortuitous for our partnership with them,” the king says, then smiles with a twinkle in his eyes. “And also for your Felix.”
It’s only that twinkle that keeps me from going cold all over. If he thought my relationship with Felix was dividing my focus, he wouldn’t be smiling… would he?
“It would be great for Felix,” I agree and then force myself to say, “He’s not my Felix, though.”
In a blink, Raeulfr’s smile is gone, replaced by sadness. “He isn’t? That’s not the impression I got. You two are so good together.”
I hesitate, not sure what I’m supposed to say.
Felix and I are good together. That doesn’t change anything, though.
“Felix is… amazing. I very much enjoy the time we spend together.” Such a lackluster, colorless way to describe how being with him makes me feel.
“My commitments to my people take precedence, though, and always will. I won’t waver in keeping the promises I made. ”
If anything, that just makes Raeulfr look sadder. He sighs and shakes his head, then leans forward and meets my gaze.
“Ari, your promise to serve and defend your people doesn’t preclude you having a personal life.”
“I know,” I reply, surprised. “If it did, I wouldn’t be dating Felix.”
He grimaces like he’s tasted something sour. “Yet you’re always very quick to make it clear that there’s nothing serious between you. Last night, Riley mentioned that Felix has told his family the same thing.”
Why’s that so bad? “Felix and I understand each other and agree on what we want.”
The king snorts. “According to Riley, Jared, and Dáithí, Felix wants a romance for the ages. He wants to be loved, and he wants a committed boyfriend. None of them understand what the two of you are doing.”
My spine is so stiff, it could double as a flagpole.
Felix wants romantic love? It’s something I could so easily give him, except I can’t.
“We’ve talked about what we can offer each other.
He knows I can’t promise the future, and when he’s ready to move on, he will. ” And I’ll be left behind, broken.
“But why can’t you promise the future?”
“I made an oath,” I snap, unable to take it anymore.
“When you gave me a second chance, I swore an oath to protect and serve our people under your leadership and the leadership of whoever the life force selects next. I swore to never let anything or anybody distract me from my service to those I so gravely wronged, and I won’t.
When I eventually die, it will be in furtherance of the oath I made.
I won’t squander this second chance, and I will prove that I earned the faith you put in me.
” My voice breaks on the last word, and I clench my teeth, looking at my coffee cup on the table as I try to drag my emotions back under control.
“Oh, Ari.” The king’s words float to me on a wave of pity and concern.
“That oath was meant to give you absolution. It was meant to give you purpose and drive at a time when you were so lost. It was never meant to be a punishment.” His hand finds my chin and tips my face up so I can meet his gaze.
“It was never meant to be chains holding you back from happiness.”
“I’m not unhappy.” My voice is hoarse, and I hate that.
“Maybe not, but you’re keeping yourself from something that could make you even happier… and why? Your oath doesn’t preclude you finding love.”
“My service has my full focus and loyalty.” For the first time ever, as I say it, it feels more like the chains he mentioned than the honorable sacrifice I’ve always thought it to be.
“Nobody doubts your focus or loyalty, Ari. That doesn’t mean you can’t allow yourself the joy and comfort of a partner. I can’t believe that anyone you loved would ask you to betray your people. Would Felix do that?”
“Never.” It’s not even a fully formed thought before it leaves my lips.
“Then why can’t you have both?”
I stare at my king, my breathing becoming shallow. Both?
“As far as I’m concerned,” he continues, “your millennia of service have more than made up for the actions of your youth. Especially since those actions came from lack of understanding rather than malice. If you feel the need to continue your service, I won’t deny you, but I also won’t allow you to deny yourself.
” He stands, signaling that our conversation is over.
“Think about it, Ari. What would you say to a misguided young man who saw the error of his ways and asked for absolution? Would you force him into eternal punishment?”
The shake of my head is barely a movement.
“Then why have you done that to yourself?”