Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
ALINA
The sun was already setting and multiple shadows stretched from every piece of furniture, creeping toward my feet on the floor when I stepped into the room Tynan and I shared.
With a long sigh, I pressed my back against the door.
Every time I thought that it was time to exhale, to have a little bit of rest, something else would inevitably come up.
It was settled that Tynan, Sage, and I would take a trip to the land of white clan and visit Alsaard. I thought about my resolution to never go there and could not help another sad sigh. Suddenly, the door behind me moved and I took a step away from it.
Tynan stood in the hall. From the partial darkness of the room, I saw only the side of his face. His eyebrow furrowed, but he said nothing until I opened the door all the way for him.
“I thought I would get ready for bed,” I said, watching him enter the room.
Tynan had the clan sword attached to his belt and its fearsome blade was incredibly becoming to his masculine features.
It seemed as if he had always been destined to be the ruler of the clan.
That was probably why his stepmother was so desperate to destroy him when he was only a child.
She must have known that one day he would surpass her husband, and both her sons.
The cruelty of his upbringing only made him stronger, and more resilient.
If there truly was a spirit of the first king, it had blessed Tynan on the day he was born.
The power, the energy that radiated from him could only have come from a divine nature.
Tynan stepped closer, immediately filling the space between us. I took a deep breath, and somehow my heart felt lighter.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
I nodded, staring at the pattern on his suit. But he placed his hands on my forearms, and I met his gaze.
“I . . . I’m just overwhelmed with everything, I think. I had to make decisions in quick succession, and now I’m feeling all the emotions I did not allow myself to feel,” I whispered, amazed at how easy it was to share my deepest thoughts with him.
All my life, I never had that. I told myself that I had to be strong, that I had to support the others.
The village, the castle, so many people, so many families, depended on me back home.
To give them the reassurance they needed, I had learned to suppress my own feelings.
I got to the point where I did not even realize I was doing it.
Not until the pressure became unbearable, and I nearly broke myself into pieces.
After my fiance died, I lost myself to my pain, to my grief. I did not want to talk to anyone. I remembered shouting at my friend, refusing to see her for months. I even hated my brother because he stood by her through all of it.
My thoughts spiraled and I caught my lip between my teeth, feeling the panic rising up.
“It’s alright. It’s going to be alright,” Tynan kept repeating.
“But what if . . .?” I could not even finish my sentence.
“I’m with you. I’m always going to be with you.”
I looked up at him. There was so much quiet power behind his umber eyes. It made the dull ache in my heart slowly recede.
Tynan reached for my collar and quickly unbuttoned the front of my flying suit. But, I was just too emotionally drained to respond to his touches.
“Tynan, I don’t . . .” I protested.
His hands stilled for only a moment, then he continued slowly taking my clothes off. Without delaying any further, he pulled me toward the bed. Stupefied, I watched as he picked up my nightgown, and carefully put it over my head, sliding it down my body. Then he sat me down on the edge of the bed.
I closed my eyes while his hands carefully untangled my braid.
His fingers moved lightly on the skin of my scalp, massaging the back of my head.
Then he moved to my shoulders, rubbing my hardened muscles.
The warmth of his touches spread through every inch of my body, releasing the tension that I have had for days.
Later, we lay together in bed, facing each other, and simply talked about everything we could think of.
Tynan kept tracing his hand from my shoulder down to my forearm without attempting to take it any further.
I told him everything that happened while he was unconscious.
I shared every fear I had when every hour could have been our last. I confessed how guilty I felt about the marriage ceremony and how nervous I was to face him after.
“Are you mad about it?” I asked when I was done.
“I don’t think I told you before, but I hate celebrations.” He closed his eyes.
I remained silent, just watching him, a little disappointed in his reply. A lazy smile stretched the corners of his mouth and he pressed me closer.
His lips brushed my ear. “I would trade thousands of lifetimes just for one day with you. Before you, I wasn’t living, I didn’t even know what life was.”