Chapter 15
ISABEL
I lie awake, watching Gideon sleep, unable to quiet my mind enough to find my own rest. I’m stunned that he not only sent his fellow highborn soldiers away, but he drained himself of energy as he reinforced the protective ward at the cave’s entrance.
He placed a series of wards, each one behind the other, until he couldn’t stand any longer.
Just to keep me safe. Just so I wouldn’t worry that the soldiers might return.
But now, even though I feel perfectly safe, I still can’t sleep.
The firelight dances over Gideon’s handsome, masculine features, and I cannot look away. I watch him carefully, hyper-aware of each breath he takes and his every small movement, even the faintest flutter of his eyelashes. Is he dreaming?
I attempt to reach his mind, but though I sense his presence, the powerful essence of him, I’m not able to detect the specifics of any dreams he might be having.
If our mating bond were fully consummated, would I be able to glimpse his dreams? Hmm. I guess I won’t know the answer to that question until… until I fully surrender to him. My face heats at the thought.
As I continue watching him sleep, I come to a dawning realization. In the short time I’ve known him, my first impression of him as a highborn fae male has rapidly changed. I can’t honestly claim that I fear him any longer.
Deep in my heart, I know he wants to protect me. I know he would never hurt me, just as I know he wants to make me happy.
As I consider my plans to run away, my resolve falters, and a painful ache spreads through my chest. At the thought of escaping him, breathing becomes difficult. The mere prospect of there being any great distance between us sends a rush of panic through me.
Desperate to quell the aching in my chest, the anguish that tightens whenever I imagine parting ways with Gideon, I shift closer to him beneath the covers, wrap an arm around his waist, and tangle my legs with his.
Gradually, the agony in my chest fades, and I start to feel a bit calmer.
Not calm enough for sleep, however, and I continue contemplating the dilemma I’m facing.
I feel torn. Torn between the life I thought I wanted to live in Braemar, alone and unmarried…
and the life I might share with Gideon. Could I find real happiness with him?
I’m starting to wonder if it might be possible.
I’m even starting to imagine myself living among the soldiers of the Winter Court army, just so we can remain close to one another.
But then I remember that there are over thirty thousand soldiers in the Winter Court army, and a shiver rushes through me. To be surrounded by that many soldiers, all of whom have killed humans, is a daunting prospect indeed.
I can’t help but wonder how Helena is faring and whether King Theron tries to shield her from the brutality of his people.
And what about children? If we were to have children together, where would we live then?
A soft feeling rolls through me as I consider what kind of father Gideon would be.
I’m starting to think he would be as patient and kind as my own father…
a thought that makes it far too easy to imagine staying with him.
“Isabel,” Gideon whispers. “My little moth.” His hand briefly caresses my hair, and his eyes flutter open, but only for a moment.
Sleep quickly reclaims him, and I’m once again reminded of the sacrifice he made for my safety, all the protective wards he erected at the front of the cave.
Sighing, I lean my head on his chest and close my eyes. Eventually, I drift off.
I dream of Gideon. But unlike the last time I dreamed about him, this time he’s not chasing me.
Instead, we’re entangled beneath the covers, kissing and exploring one another’s bodies with a fervor that leaves us both breathless.
It feels safe and intimate, and when I finally awaken, I experience a glimmer of hope that steals my breath.
As my vision adjusts to the morning sunlight that’s spilling into the cave, I carefully extract myself from Gideon and sit up beside him. Should I wake him? No, I decide, I’ll let him sleep for as long as he needs.
I grab my rucksack and visit the largest bathing alcove, making sure to pull the curtain across the opening. Just as I remove my nightdress and fill a basin with hot water, I hear footsteps in the corridor, and a wave of affection hits me.
My heart beats faster.
Gideon. He’s awake.
“Are you naked in there, little moth?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” I ask with a laugh, pleased that he awoke in good spirits.
“Actually, I would.” There’s a pause, and I hear him enter one of the alcoves. Take your time getting ready, Isabel. We are in no rush today, he eventually sends down the bond.
Thank you, I tell him, grateful that he doesn’t seem in a hurry to reach his army.
I emerge from the alcove a while later, wearing my favorite blue dress, feeling refreshed and ready for the day.
Gideon isn’t quite finished yet, so I return to the main area of the cave on my own.
After smoothing out the wrinkles in my cloak, I place it near the fire so it’ll be warm when we’re ready to depart.
Outside the cave, the wind suddenly howls louder.
I approach the nearest line of frost, which marks the final protective ward Gideon created before he practically collapsed in exhaustion, and I peer down the mountainside.
The vegetation glows and glimmers brightly with ussha.
I also spot a sparkling lake nearby that I hadn’t noticed when we arrived under the cover of darkness last night.
I become so lost in the awe-inspiring sight that I almost don’t hear Gideon approaching me from behind. In fact, I’m not certain that I do hear him, but rather… I feel him.
He wraps his arms around me and settles his chin atop my head. I bring my hands up to rest on his arms, relishing the casual intimacy of the embrace. We stand like that for a while, admiring the view.
I’m just about to turn in his arms when a massive black bird darts inside the cave and lands just beyond the protective wards. There’s a slight blue glow around the bird, and it’s clutching a rolled-up piece of paper in one of its talons. A letter, I realize. It has brought a letter to Gideon.
“A glamoured messenger bird,” I whisper.
“Yes, little moth. Judging by the shade of the blue glow that’s surrounding the bird, I would guess it’s from the Winter King.” He kisses my cheek, then releases me and passes through the layered wards with ease.
He approaches the waiting bird and retrieves the missive from its talon. Just as Gideon turns back to me, the blue glow around the bird dissipates and it darts out of the cave.
How extraordinary. Not for the first time, I find myself marveling at the different types of magic the fae can possess. What I wouldn’t give to be able to send a letter to my father like that, so quickly and easily. Ah, if only…
As Gideon unrolls the letter, his voice reverberates in my head.
I would be happy to send letters to your father on your behalf, little moth, though I’m afraid he wouldn’t be able to send a reply as swiftly.
Once a spelled messenger bird makes a delivery, the magic wears off almost immediately, as you probably just noticed.
He gestures toward the entrance of the cave where the bird just took off.
Thank you, Gideon. I will consider it, I tell him. While I like the idea of writing to my father, if I were to write him a letter at this very moment, I’m not sure what I would say.
The warmth I’m experiencing for Gideon is sudden and intense, but we haven’t consummated our mating bond yet, and I still haven’t completely given up on my plans of escape.
It’s a vague idea, a fallback plan, that persists in the back of my mind.
Because I don’t know what will happen once we reach the Winter Court army.
I feel safe with Gideon, and I despair over the prospect of parting from him, yet I still harbor doubts.
And the future… well, so much of the future feels uncertain.
My stomach flips when Gideon tenses. As he stares at me, clutching the partially unrolled letter, his eyes flash with hurt.
And then I realize my mistake.
Oh gods. I didn’t censor my thoughts at all just now.
He heard my misgivings, and he felt my doubts.
A day or two ago, such thoughts might not have wounded him so, but the intimacies we shared last night before the other highborn fae arrived had filled him with hope. Hope for us.
My face heats with shame, but then I experience a wave of anger.
If I stay with Gideon, am I to spend the rest of my life guarding every thought for fear of offending him?
That’s the sort of cage I don’t want to live in.
It’s bad enough that I must worry about his ability to create protective barriers, wards that can hold me captive.
But if I must constantly guard my thoughts…
even worse than being his captive, I would become a shell of my former self.
“Do you expect me to be in agreement with you at all times, Gideon?” I ask.
For some reason, it feels safer to voice my thoughts aloud rather than allow him to sense them.
“Do you expect me to surrender to you without giving it careful consideration? I’m allowed to have doubts, Gideon.
My own feelings. My own thoughts. You can’t command them. ”
He goes utterly still.
“Isabel.” He draws in a quick breath and approaches me.
I lift my chin, determined not to cower. But my hands tremble at my sides, and a quavering breath leaves me. I’m not afraid of him, nor am I worried that he’ll hurt me, but I feel so vulnerable and exposed that I’m not certain how to proceed.
Part of me wishes he would suddenly harbor an unkind thought about me, or maybe even experience doubts about whether he wants me as his mate. Just so he knows what it’s like for the person on the other end of the bond to hear your doubts even when you wish they couldn’t.
The bond we share can be comforting. There are times it makes me feel safe and cherished. But right now… right now I wish I could control it. At the very least, I wish I could shield my thoughts on occasion.
He pauses in front of me. Still holding the unread letter, he gazes down at me with a concerned look.
Eventually, I sense his remorse through the bond.
He’s starting to understand my perspective, and he realizes how unfair it is for him to become upset every time I have doubts about our mating bond or our future.
He cups the side of my face in one hand, and though I want to be angry with him, I find myself leaning into his touch and seeking comfort in his presence. As he holds my gaze, he sends me a wave of tender warmth that brings tears to my eyes.
“Little moth.” He leans his forehead against mine.
“You are right. I can’t command your feelings or your thoughts.
Though we share a bond, a bond that will continue to grow deeper as we spend more time together, you shouldn’t have to worry about my reaction to your private thoughts.
And for that, I am sorry, and I promise I will endeavor to give you space for your doubts. ”
A shaky breath leaves me, and some of the tightness in my chest finally begins to ease.
“Then allow me more time,” I whisper. “Allow me more time to understand what this bond means. And time to understand what you mean to me, as well as what I mean to you. This is all happening so fast, and while I suppose it’s normal for a fae, since your people always have fated mates, I am human and struggling to come to terms with all that has happened. ”
It’s still a shock to me how quickly my feelings for him are changing.
Once, I was so certain that I would always want to escape him.
But now, that certainty is wavering, giving way to tender feelings I’m not quite brave enough to put a name to.
Feelings I must first make sure are genuine, rather than solely influenced by the mating bond we haven’t even consummated yet.
“You may have all the time you need, little moth,” he finally says. “I am not typically a patient male, but for you, I will learn. Perhaps that is why the gods have led us together, so we can each learn something from the other.”
He releases my face, then wraps me in his strong, muscular arms, gathering me close so that my ear rests against his rapidly beating heart.
The familiar, comforting scent of peppermint, woodsmoke, spices, and pine surrounds me, and I savor the intimacy of our bond and the warmth he keeps sending me.
After taking a deep breath, I send him a wave of affection in return. I also wrap my arms around him, holding on to him as though I’ll never let go.
But then I remember the letter, and I stiffen in his embrace.
The letter, I send down the bond. Shouldn’t you read it now? What if it’s important? I am curious about the letter, especially since it’s from King Theron. What if the missive contains news about Helena?
Soon, Gideon replies, his voice a steady murmur in my head. I’ll read it soon. Actually, we can read it together. It would seem that neither of us can keep secrets from the other one anyway.
He withdraws partially from our hug, but only so he can kiss my forehead.
I melt at the sweetness he’s showing me, the tenderness I would’ve never guessed a highborn lord from the Winter Court might be capable of.
I can’t help but feel thankful for the Seelie blood in his veins, the half of him that comes from his mother’s side.
He peers down at me, his eyes gleaming with affection.
“Even if I were a pure-blooded Unseelie,” he murmurs, “I could never hurt you, little moth.” There’s no judgment in his voice, and I appreciate that he’s not chiding me for another random thought I couldn’t control.
“I know,” I whisper. “Now, let’s read that letter.”