Chapter 41 Devotion
Castien held his breath as Wren made her way to the wall he’d just revealed. Her lips were parted in quiet shock. She traced the wall with her gaze, her blue eyes bright with wonder.
“May I?” she murmured, hovering delicate fingers above a sketch he’d done of her not long ago. It was her framed by the light of the hearth the night he was Tidesick. He’d been frustrated at the time of drawing it that he couldn’t capture the way she’d looked at him.
“Whatever you want is yours,” he rasped. “Rip it apart if you like.”
Wren gave him a look of censure.
“It’s beautiful,” she said as her fingertips grazed the edge of the parchment. “You portray me far prettier than I am.”
Castien shook his head. “Every sketch pales in comparison to you. It is rather maddening. I throw many of them away.”
A blush tinted her cheekbones. She kept her gaze on the wall, biting her bottom lip.
Castien watched as she surveyed the collection of information and sketches before her.
Occasionally she would reach out and touch something or trace a word inked onto the wall.
What had started as a way to keep track of information regarding her had turned into an amalgamation of mad devotion.
He had taken a risk in showing her. His hope was that she would see how much power she held over him, but he worried that instead she would be afraid of the strength of his feelings.
“How long…” She trailed off, as if unsure how to phrase her question.
“Have you been the subject of my obsession?” he guessed at her question.
Her blush deepened a shade and she nodded.
“Since your arrival, though at first it was for the investigation. Over time it morphed into—” Castien gestured at the wall. “In an effort to continue our honesty, obtaining your journal escalated matters. It was difficult to quench my desire to know everything about you after that.”
“I would have thought my journal would have had the opposite effect, but I suppose that I was wrong.”
“Indeed,” Castien hummed. He reached for her hand, delighted when she let him take it in his. “You have occupied my sleeping and waking thoughts for some time, dearest. My greatest desire has been to protect you, but to know you, well, that is a close second.”
Wren let out a soft laugh. “You’ve read my journal, received letters full of secrets and memories, and have had many conversations with me. What more could you want to know?”
“Everything,” Castien whispered as he tugged her closer to him.
“I want to know your every thought. To have your hopes and dreams spread out before me like a beautiful tapestry for my admiration. I long to spend the rest of my days learning all of you, my dearest Wren, for I know there is so much more to you than you think.”
Her expression melted into something soft and wonderful. Tides, Castien could get drunk on her stare alone. She reached up and placed her hand on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his eyes falling shut as bliss overwhelmed him.
“I knew you buried your emotions, but to feel them all now, it amazes me how strong they are,” she said.
“I can temper them whenever you need me to,” Castien told her. “I know it is overwhelming.”
He opened his eyes, his breath halting at the adoration he found sparkling in Wren’s gaze.
“When we were alone together for the first time, I felt giddy at the notion that I didn’t have to feel any emotion other than my own.”
She trailed her fingertips down his face and over his jaw. Castien swallowed. His heart felt like a hummingbird trapped in his chest. A smile bloomed across Wren’s lips that only made his condition worse.
“But here with you, I find myself wondering if this could be a Gift after all,” she continued. Her touch was featherlight as it traced the column of his throat. “I quite like knowing how I make you feel.”
“Is that so?”
Wren hummed in reply, eyes soft. Her fingertips slid past his neck to his exposed chest. Desire burned within him. He didn’t hold back. Castien wouldn’t stifle his emotions around her again unless she asked or if it was necessary to protect her from someone else.
Wren traced the top of his scar. Though it carried a painful memory, he found it plagued him less beneath her touch.
“Finn told me the story,” she murmured. “It was what made me read your letters.”
“I will have to thank him,” Castien breathed. “He will be insufferable about it, to be sure, but I am grateful if it brought you here.”
She smiled and stretched her palm over his chest. Castien wasn’t sure if she was warm or if he was unbearably hot from her torturous roaming.
“Dearest,” he pleaded.
“Cas,” she whispered.
The name undid him. He caged her against the wall. Surprise lit Wren’s eyes, her hand still on his chest. He pressed his hands against the sketches he’d drawn and stared down at her.
“Do you realize that you are my undoing?” He breathed the question.
Her lips parted. Pressure built within him. The need to kiss her was a hungry ache deep in his core.
“I cannot imagine myself holding such a power.”
He shook his head, a low chuckle escaping him.
“You are testing my limits. I have missed you to an excruciating degree. My wits are being pulled apart by your mere presence.”
Wren reached up with her other hand and brushed back some of Castien’s hair. He barely restrained a groan.
“I’m safe with you,” she whispered.
Castien’s eyes burned. Though it wasn’t a question, he replied in a reverent tone, “Always, dearest.”
She continued her gentle caress through his hair. He’d end up on his knees if she didn’t stop soon.
“I-I have never felt this freedom before.” She stumbled over the words. “It’s … intoxicating.”
Castien took one hand off the wall and slid it beneath her jaw. He could feel her pulse thrumming. It was his only physical indication that she felt what he did to some degree. That, and she was not pushing him away.
“Though I am in agony, I’m pleased to know you are not.” Wren giggled, and he smiled down at her. “I am yours, Wren. Do as you please, and I will maintain my composure as best I can. Whatever allows you to feel safe.”
“Your emotions are so strong,” she whispered. “But I think—I think mine are the same.”
Castien watched a blush spread across her face. Wren squeezed her eyes shut and a tear fell, making his heart ache.
“Why are you crying, my love?” he asked as he gently swiped the tear away. “Do you not wish to feel that way?”
Wren’s throat bobbed. “It’s just that I’ve avoided such sensations for so long. I’m overwhelmed.”
Castien began to pull back, worried his proximity was a part of the problem. Wren surprised him by fisting a hand in his shirt and stopping him. He ended up with both his hands on the wall again.
“We have forever. There’s no rush or expectation. I don’t want to upset you.”
Wren shook her head, her eyes opening. The pain in them tore Castien’s heart in two. He wished he could go back in time and stop that monster from hurting Wren.
“Sometimes, I hear his voice,” she whispered, furthering Castien’s deep-seated hatred for the sick creature. “But I don’t want to listen to it anymore. I want to feel and think for myself.”
“Tell me what I can do to help, but only do this for your sake, not mine,” he said gently.
“Could you stay where you are?” she asked, her hand slowly relaxing against his chest.
Castien dipped his chin. “I won’t move without your permission.”
Wren took a deep breath. She placed her other hand on his chest, thankfully over the fabric of his shirt.
Her skin on his made him dizzy with want.
Castien’s relief was short-lived, though, because Wren unexpectedly pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his jaw.
He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands crinkling the papers pinned to the wall as he dug his fingers into it.
“You smell like peppermint tea,” she murmured against his skin. “My favorite.”
Castien’s eyes shut tight. He felt as though he would wake up at any second, aching and drenched in sweat. He’d never thought it possible that Wren would allow him the honor of being this close to her.
“I love you,” he breathed.
“I love you, too,” she replied, her voice coated with a warm affection that made his knees weak. Or perhaps that was from the feeling of her breath on his skin. “Can you tip your head down more?” she asked in a soft, shy tone.
He did as she described.
“I-I want to kiss you.” Wren’s voice shook. “But I’m afraid.”
Her hands trembled slightly where they rested on his chest. Castien kept his eyes closed, so she would feel better about speaking her thoughts aloud.
“It can wait for another time,” he murmured. “I told you I will be patient, wanting your happiness above all else.”
“I’m tired of being afraid.”
Wren’s lips crashed into his before Castien could reply.