Chapter Forty-Six #2
“You really are stubborn,” I say, clasping my hands in front of me to keep from reaching for her.
“Are you saying I shouldn’t have protected you?
Should I have been honest? Told Namreth how much you mean to me?
Do you know what he does to people in there?
What he does to the wives of men who’ve dared strike out against him? ”
Aren sighs, and her shoulders fall as she wipes away more tears.
I know we’re both thinking of Lydia.
“If I hadn’t lied, you would have been right there with me.
Starved and tortured by the mad king himself.
If Namreth had done to you what he did to me…
” My voice cracks. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.
I would never let that happen. I would die before I let anyone hurt you, Aren. I thought you knew that.”
“Everything you said was really…?”
“A lie. Aren, I’m so sorry.” I would apologize a thousand times to take her hurt away.
I don’t love her. She’s nothing to me.
It’s the furthest thing from the truth.
“War means having to make hard choices, and I chose to hide the truth from you to keep you alive and unharmed,” I say.
Aren plants both fists on her hips and sighs. She turns to look at me, lips pressed together in a thin line, then rolls her eyes.
“Are we on the same page?” I ask tentatively.
“I don’t know. Are we?”
I give her a speaking glance, my heart in my throat. “I hope so.”
“And what page is that?” she asks.
“The one where we tell each other the truth.”
Aren chews at her bottom lip. “You wanna know why I’m angry?”
“Is there just one reason? Because I assumed…” I trail off.
“I’m so damned angry with you because…” She clams up, suddenly tongue-tied. “For Albion’s sake, Dietan, you’re going to make me say it?”
This time, my heart skips a beat, hope shining like daylight through the rain. “Say what?”
Aren lowers her gaze, her cheeks flushed, chest heaving, and an overwhelming wave of longing wells up in me, burning me all over.
When she meets my eyes once more, she says, “I care about you so much it hurts. I hate it. I want to be rid of these feelings, but I can’t seem to shake them. They’re killing me.”
Her words come fast, like water bursting through a dam, and I stare at her in wonder, afraid to even breathe, not wanting to stop their flow.
“I thought I’d lost you, not once, or twice, but three times.
When they dragged me out of the throne room, I thought for sure they would kill you, and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it.
I…have never felt so helpless, and I hated you for it.
But I also grieved for you. I was so angry at…
” She gazes skyward. “Everything. Because I thought you didn’t feel the same way that I felt about you, and then I was afraid I was never going to get to tell you.
Especially when I couldn’t find your pulse after the devil’s breath.
And then when you were burning up with fever, I didn’t think you would survive the night. ”
I remain frozen, my heart hammering, blood racing. I broke her heart. So many times. And she’s still here. I love how stubborn she is.
Growing up, I was told I would marry a princess someday.
To myself, I vowed not to marry, because my parents were so miserable together.
But now I realize I wasn’t avoiding marriage, I just wasn’t interested in any of the haughty, dainty women at court who decked themselves in jewels and gossip.
I wanted someone made of grit and steel who’d demand better from the world and those around her—even princes.
And this woman, a barmaid from a little town in the middle of nowhere, with calluses on her hands, lush, dark hair, and striking eyes—not to mention the coarsest language and the sharpest mind in all of Albion—is exactly that.
She’s more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever met.
“Aren,” I whisper, and she doesn’t shy away this time. This close, I savor every eyelash, every pore, every freckle. Even a fever dream in the depths of Namreth’s dungeons couldn’t make her this beautiful, this real.
Her warm breath fans across my skin, and something coils inside me, hot and ready.
Slowly, I reach out and tuck a piece of hair that has escaped its braid behind her ear. She doesn’t flinch away from my touch this time.
“Aren Bellamore, you mean more to me than anyone else in this entire world,” I say.
Then I close my eyes, lean in…and wait. I’ve been wanting to do this ever since she walked into the room. She rises onto her tiptoes to meet me.
The kiss is gentle, soft. Our lips barely brush, and it’s over quickly, but it feels more intimate, more vulnerable than any of the earlier kisses we’ve shared. The warmth of her touch is as charming as a spell.
When I open my eyes, I find hers still closed, and I smile. For once, I forget about the Rings, and I’m just an ordinary man kissing an ordinary woman.
How strange, not to feel the chaos inside me as the taste of her fills my heart. Not to feel the Whisting, choking and savage, roiling within like a snake ready to strike.
I frame her face with my hands, brushing my thumbs over the arches of her cheekbones, and breathe her in.
She smells of temple incense and of the healer’s sweet oil.
A soft sigh escapes her as my hand glides up her back, while her slender fingers send sparks across my skin wherever she touches.
I deepen the kiss, caressing her cheek in my palm.
Aren’s fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt as she pulls me closer. I slide my hand to her waist and draw her in, our bodies finally touching. I pull her tightly against me so that she can feel exactly how much I want her.
A low sound rumbles in my throat, and heat surges inside me like I have a fever all over again.
Without breaking the kiss, I guide us from the balcony, back inside, and lower her down onto the bed, her yellow dress spilling across the linens. For a moment all I can do is stare at her and wonder at my good fortune before I lie down beside her.
I meet her eyes as I peel down the strap of her dress, freeing her perfect, soft breast. I bring my lips to it, gently tugging, sucking her peaked nipple.
Her breaths become ragged, filled with want.
Seeing her cheeks flushed, eyelids heavy, makes me feel a desire I have never known before.
I want to worship her just as the acolytes here worship Sirona.
I reach down to draw her skirt up, ready to stop if she shows any hesitance, but thank the gods, she doesn’t. In fact, she grins, eyes wide as I move my hand up her leg, lingering on the smooth skin of her thigh, stroking until she squirms.
To my pleasant surprise, she’s not wearing any smallclothes, so I slide my hand higher.
She lets out a surprised gasp as my fingers skim through her slickness.
She goes very still, body tensing, and I hold my breath, half expecting her to scold, or slap, or run screaming from the room.
But instead, she smiles and arches her back as she luxuriates in my fingers making slow, tormenting circles.
She runs her hands across my chest, leaving trails of heat as she strokes my abdomen.
Her one hand starts to roam lower and lower still, until it covers my hardness.
“Gods,” I murmur into the soft skin of her throat.
She strokes my length languidly, teasing me, making my insides coil in pleasure.
She slides her hands back up my body and draws my face to meet hers once more.
Breathing hard, heat rising inside me, I kiss her again, harder this time.
She holds me close, her lips soft and warm, and the world melts away with another sigh.
There are temples to a variety of gods all over the world, but hers is the only one where I care to worship. I thank all the gods in all the heavens that I’m healed enough to enjoy this.
“Sometimes you make me forget to breathe when you kiss me like that,” I murmur when we finally pull apart for a moment.
“Good,” she says, her lip curling in a way that makes my blood roar. “Gives you more time to focus on what you do best.”
“And what’s that?”
“Kissing me back.”
“Thank the gods this isn’t a dungeon,” I say, rising to my knees.
I sit back on my haunches and look upon Aren, beautifully mussed and rosy. I take the hem of her dress and slowly roll it up her body. She puts her arms up for me to pull the gown over her head. Then she sits before me, in radiant light, naked and perfect and mine.
“Think you’re about to get lucky?” she teases.
For just a moment, my awareness shifts to the Rings, which have been quiet this whole time. They’re still quiet.
I allow myself to hope.
“Oh, I know I am,” I say with the biggest grin of my life.