38. Everly
Everly
Chapter thirty-eight
I’m struggling against the heaviness that is keeping me from moving. The frustration is building up within me, a fire fueled by the desire to break free from this weight. I command my fingers and toes to move, to twitch even slightly, but they seem trapped in this leaden state. The struggle against this unseen force is becoming not only physical but mental, as I battle the hopelessness that threatens to engulf me. The moment I feel my fingers twitching, a surge of relief flows through me, and once again when I realize my toes are responding to my commands. I part my mouth and take a shallow breath, slowly filling my lungs. I can just make out the faint sound of fabric shifting and a comforting touch of a hand lightly squeezing mine. The scent of lavender fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of the garden back at the castle. Then there is the unmistakable scent of leather and cedarwood.
“Stóirín?” Maxon whispers, the velvety smooth timbre of his voice sending a shiver through me, making my stomach tumble.
My eyelids flutter allowing me to catch a glimpse of Maxon leaning over me. Slowly, I pry my eyes open, needing more than anything to see him. I blink against the dim light and whimper, fighting the urge to close my eyes again. A warm, gentle hand tenderly cups my face, and he leans in close to me, his face filling my vision. His tantalizing scent envelops me in its embrace. My heart thumps hard, and I feel as if I’m free falling as I stare into his deep violet eyes, the silver ring pulsing with magic.
From the depths of my being, a peculiar and indescribable emotion begins to rise, overwhelming my senses. I can feel him more distinctly now, as if his soul is intertwining with mine. His emotions, feelings, and heartbeat are nestled alongside mine. We are bonded, joined—as connected as two beings could be.
My palm moves up and covers his hand that is cupping my face as the word ‘mine’ echoes through my head at the exact same time he whispers it.
Maxon drops his forehead, resting it on mine, his long dark hair falling around us, shielding us from the outside world.
“I’m so relieved you’re awake,” he murmurs, then gently brushes his lips against mine. Heat floods my body, and the all-consuming need to have him inside of me scorches my blood, tearing through my veins like molten lava.
Maxon groans, the sound filling the air as he swiftly stands and turns away from me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask sitting up.
Maxon doesn’t turn around, but I see the muscles under his tunic flex and bunch. “You’re still recovering. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You could never hurt me.” I argue. “Wait . . . How long have I been asleep?”
I'm in my bed in my room at the castle, and the last thing I remember was being at the Evergreen’s. How did we get back?
Maxon slowly turns and stares down at me. I can sense his worry, his concern, and his overwhelming relief, as if they were tangible emotions. His deep violet eyes look drained, the weight of exhaustion etched on his face.
“Four days.”
It takes a moment for his words to fully sink in. “What?”
I push the sheets off my body and swing my legs off the bed, feeling the softness of the rug under my feet. Maxon steps forward to help me, but I hold up my hand to stop him. I don’t know how I would react to him touching me right now. All I want to do is to press myself against him and feel his warmth surrounding me. Surrender to his body, get lost in his touches . . .
He clears his throat before asking, “What do you remember?”
I furrow my brow, trying to recall what happened right before I’d blacked out. Suddenly an onslaught of images flashes through my head, and desire has me clenching my thighs. Maxon rubs his hands over his face, cursing under his breath. My heart rate spikes as I remember our mind-blowing sex, the way he felt moving inside of me. My hand drifts up to my neck, my fingers tracing over the spot where he bit me, and another flood of warmth moves through me.
In an instant, I’m on my back in the bed, Maxon hovering over me, his eyes glowing more silver than violet as he stares down at me. Affection, lust, and need flash in his eyes as he grinds his hips against mine, making my eyes roll back. My hands instinctively reach for him. Maxon is quick, though. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head, leaning down to whisper in my ear.
“I’m holding back by a thread, Stóirín.”
I turn my face toward his, my lips brushing his cheek. “But I want you.”
Maxon groans, rocking his hips into mine again, making fireworks explode under my skin.
“A chroí,” I moan, and we both freeze. “I said it again.”
“You did. Do you know what it means?”
“My heart,” I breathe, leaning up to place a kiss on his throat.
His hands spasm around my wrists before he releases them, placing a soft kiss on my neck before pushing off me. Immediately I miss his comforting weight and his scent and warmth. I could smell him all day, let my hands explore those defined planes with every curve and bulge of muscle.
Shit, I am so worked up with his arousal and mine combined, it’s making it extremely hard to concentrate.
“The sex we had was amazing, but why was I asleep for four days?”
Maxon's restless pacing comes to a halt, strands of hair falling into his eyes, tempting me to reach out and brush them away.
“You went through Renascitur.”
“Renascitur?”
“Yes, it’s the fae version of puberty.”
I laugh nervously, feeling my stomach twist in knots. “But I’m twenty-five years old.”
“It doesn’t matter. Your time spent in the human realm has had an impact on you. Being here and our mating has triggered the activation of your fae blood. We believe that when you were transported to the human realm, a potent spell was cast upon you, concealing your fae heritage and erasing certain memories. Our mating shattered the spell that was intertwined with your blood.”
My mind whirls as I try to make sense of everything. I remember my dreams and the words my mother whispered before pushing me through the portal. Then another thought hits me, leaving me completely breathless. I had a mother and a father and they loved me; I wasn’t abandoned.
Emotions clog my throat, and I stand abruptly. “I . . . need to use the bathroom.”
Tears well in my eyes as I walk on shaky legs to the bathroom, needing to splash some cool water on my face. Almost as if in a trance, I lean over the sink, cupping the cool water in my hands, and splashing my face several times. Once the tap is turned off, I rest my palms on the smooth stone on either side of the sink, watching the water slowly drain away.
With a heavy sigh, I grab a towel, pressing it against my face to block out the world. A sharp pang of loss strikes with the realization that I lost my parents. I never knew for sure. I assumed they had died, but now . . . now I remember them clearly.
I glance up at my reflection in the mirror and my eyes go wide, my heart skipping a beat at the sudden shock. Stepping back, I lose my balance and accidentally knock several glass bottles off the nearby bench. The bottles collide with the ground, shattering into countless pieces, and sending shards of glass flying in every direction.
Maxon pushes through the door with such force it bangs against the wall, the sound reverberating around the room.
My wild gaze meets his. “What the hell happened to me?”
Maxon’s features soften with understanding. “I’m sorry . . . I should have warned you, but it slipped my mind. I’ve seen you like this for three days.” He walks over to me and cups the side of my neck, his thumb stroking my jaw in soothing motions.
“My eyes,” I choke.
My mother’s eyes . . .
“They are beautiful.”
“They are the same as my mother’s,” I whisper.
Maxon’s eyes search my face. “You remember?”
“Some . . . ” I admit.
Moving closer, Maxon tips his face down to mine. I am not a small girl, but he always makes me feel safe and protected. That spark in my chest grows, slowly increasing in strength. I can feel its ghostly tendrils stretching toward him as if to embrace him. The tenderness of his touch sends a shiver down my spine. Then his lips crash down on mine, before I can even process the intent.
My heart races as I melt into his body, my hand sliding up his sides and around his broad back, pulling him tightly against me. The kiss is slow and gentle. The faint sound of our breathing is the only thing I can hear. We’ve had a lot of kisses, but this is beyond anything I’ve ever imagined. His other hand wraps around my waist, pulling me tighter against him. The thumb stroking my jaw stops and his fingers sink into my hair, tipping my head back further to deepen the kiss.
“You are mine, Stóirín,” he breathes against my mouth.
My little treasure.
Resting my forehead against his chest, I can feel the steady beat of his heart. I let it calm me as I try to come to terms with my appearance. My eyes are now a vibrant mossy green with flecks of silver, just like my mother’s. My hair seems longer, thicker and more radiant than before, while my ears have taken on a pointed shape. However, the most astonishing and surprising change is the tattoo on my right temple, an exact replica of Maxon’s.