Chapter 30
Ithrashed, trying to fight my way to the surface so I could cough up the water I inhaled, but I couldn’t tell which way was up or down.
Panic closed in around me like a noose as black spots filled my vision.
I was going to drown. My movements slowed, my limbs too heavy to move, until something yanked me upwards and out of the water.
Rolled onto my side, my head just above the surface, I coughed and coughed, expelling the water from my lungs.
“Breathe, Maeve,” Fen said, his fear frantic in our bond. “Come on, breathe.”
My hands scrabbled at his arms as I gasped, and the air filling my lungs felt like knives slicing through me.
“That’s it. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” His relief in our connection calmed me enough to gain control of my breathing. He pulled me close, my chin resting on his shoulder. The heat from his body seeped into me and my eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion tried to drag me into oblivion.
“Maeve? I need you to stay awake for me.” He pulled away from me. Cold slipped between us, and I shivered as he cupped my cheek. “Open your eyes. Come on.”
It took me three tries to pry my eyes open and several blinks before his face came into focus.
“Good girl. Can you swim?” His eyes frantically searched my face.
I tried to kick my legs, but my limbs refused to cooperate. I shook my head, my teeth chattering.
“That’s okay. I’ve got you.” He gently rolled me onto my back, hooked an arm around my chest and towed me to shore.
My legs shook, but I managed to stand after a few tries. I wrapped my arms around myself as he gathered my clothes. Then he took me into his arms and shadow-stepped us back to our bedroom.
Steering me towards the fire, he positioned me right in front of it. “I’ll be right back.” Tossing my dress and boots on a chair, he disappeared into the bathing chamber.
I moaned as heat hit my cold skin. It was only pleasurable for a moment before it turned to pain.
My fingers were blue and I shivered so much my teeth chattered.
I felt hollow, like I’d left a piece of myself in the Pool.
Sadness pulled at the edges of where it had been, but it didn’t fill the void. I wondered if anything could.
Fen came back with a towel that he used to dry me with. “These need to come off.” He touched the front of my breast band. “Do you—”
I lifted my arms, too tired to wrestle with the wet fabric or worry about being naked in front of him.
He kept his eyes on my face as he stripped it from me, then pushed my panties off my hips. They fell to the floor with a wet slap.
I stepped out of them and toed them to the side as he went to his dresser.
He came back with one of his shirts. “Arms up.”
The fabric was soft against my skin as it slid over my body. I was enveloped in his smell and a potent male satisfaction that filled our bond.
Using another towel, he squeezed water out of my braid before he tugged the tie off the end and unraveled it so he could dry it further. He didn’t say a word as he tended to me, but he didn’t try to hide what he was feeling. Fear, worry, satisfaction, curiosity all swirled together.
His ministrations were soothing, his touch methodical and gentle. The shivers that racked my body started to quiet, and the shock of both my memory trip and the near drowning began to fade.
His eyes met mine for a moment, and the way we’d left things unresolved seemed to rise between us. It seemed rather small to me now, but I wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap between us. From the look in his eyes, neither did he.
“Sit.” He gestured to the couch. “I’ll be right back.”
I curled up in a corner. The blanket and pillow he used each night sat on the arm nearby.
I pulled the pillow under my head and dragged the blanket over me, inhaling his cherry and musk scent.
It smelled so good, I wondered if I could swap it out for one on the bed.
I was definitely stealing his shirt to sleep in.
Snuggling down into my Fen-scented nest, I closed my eyes.
The snap of the door closing made me start. I jerked up to find him coming towards me with a mug of something steaming in his hands.
“Drink this.”
I sniffed it before bringing it to my lips. Lemon, honey, and something herbaceous and fresh. It soothed my scratchy throat and warmed me from the inside out.
Fen sat on the other end of the couch.
I had the urge to scoot over to him, to erase the space between us, but his guarded expression stopped me.
“Are you ready to talk about what happened?” he asked.
Clutching my mug in both hands, I recounted what I’d seen in the Pool. To my surprise, my eyes stayed dry.
“So the choice was between trying to change the memory or leaving it the same?” Fen frowned.
“Yes.”
“Do you think if you’d taken the ring things would have actually changed?”
“I don’t know.” I stared at the fire, a salamander scampering over the logs. “It felt like I could, but it might have just been a test. To see if I could resist the temptation of undoing what had happened.”
“I’m impressed you did.” There was something in his voice that made me look at him.
“Really? You’re the one who told me I needed to let my family go because they were gone.”
“That doesn’t make the decision easy. If I’d been in your place, I’m not sure I would have resisted.” Grief seeped into his expression and our bond, and I knew he was thinking of his wife. Not just because he missed her, but because he had trouble living with his part in what had happened.
I knew because I’d felt the same about my family.
My choice in the Pool of Memory to leave the past where it belonged had dampened those feelings but I realized that, despite his work helping souls work through their shadows, Fen was still haunted by his past. Looking at him now, I think I finally understood just how much.
“I think you would have resisted,” I said.
“Your faith in me is touching, but misguided.” He huffed a laugh, but I felt his pain and shame in our bond.
I put my mug on a side table and turned to him, leaning one elbow on the back of the couch. I wanted to touch him, but I sensed he wasn’t ready for that. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“And you give me too much.” He kept his eyes on his hands in his lap.
I was inclined to argue with him, but something told me that was the wrong choice.
Our bond was awash in his emotions, so many that I had to concentrate to untangle them.
I frowned. He wasn’t just being stubborn or self-doubting.
He was being vulnerable. He worried about getting things wrong between us, so much that he was afraid to try.
I wasn’t sure how I was reading all that from his emotions—maybe it had to do with the depth of our bond—but I was sure I was right.
“I don’t regret my choice,” I said. “It was less painful than I thought it would be, because I was choosing to come back to you.”
He looked up at that, his expression so full of hope and disbelief that I ached for him. His lips parted as he searched my face and our bond for any sign that I was lying. “You chose me.” It was almost a question, the words so quiet I barely heard them.
“Yes.”
His eyes filled with tears, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.
Getting to my knees, I shuffled forward until I was right next to him. Keeping my eyes on his, I bent forward slowly, my intent clear. I wasn’t going to force myself on him, but I couldn’t not try to close the gap between us.
He stayed still, his body taut like he might bolt at any moment. His eyes fell to my mouth as I drew closer and closer until I finally pressed my lips to his in a gentle kiss.
Both of us trembled at the contact. Relief and joy flowed between us in our bond. Erasing the distance between us made me realize just how wrong it had felt to be at odds with him. Maybe it was the Death Chord that made me crave his closeness, or maybe it was just him.
I pressed a second kiss to his mouth and then a third, reveling in the way his lips softened against mine.
On the fourth, I teased the seam of his mouth with my tongue.
He opened for me with a sigh that I swallowed greedily as I deepened the kiss.
Like the night we met, he seemed content to let me lead until my legs started to shake from balancing over him.
I reached out blindly for the back of the couch to steady myself, but he caught me around the waist and pulled me over and onto his lap so that I straddled him.
Our kisses grew heated. One of us would pull away to catch our breath and the other would chase, unwilling to separate for more than a few seconds.
My hands sifted through his hair while his inched lower until they rested on my hips, his fingers curved around my ass.
I could feel him hardening beneath me as I ground against him, my hips moving of their own accord.
“Maeve,” he said between kisses. “Tell me.” Another kiss. “You want this.” His lips skated to my jaw.
“Yes.” The word was a gasp as he found a particularly sensitive spot beneath my ear.
“Be clear. Do you want me to fuck you?” He nipped at my ear before kissing down my neck.
“Please.” I tilted my head to give him better access while rocking against him.
His hands tightened on my hips, stilling me. “What do you like?”
My eyes flew open at the question and I froze.
“Maeve?” Fen pulled back to look at my face.
“I—” My face heated and I swallowed. I had no idea what I liked.
Colt had been my only partner, and he’d driven every sexual interaction we’d had.
It had all been based on what he wanted.
All I’d wanted at the time was to please him.
I felt so foolish sitting on Fen’s lap, unable to vocalize any specific desires.
He seemed to read everything I couldn’t bring myself to say, moving one hand to stroke my back. “Why don’t we play a game? I’ll try something, and you tell me if I’m hot or cold depending on how much you like it.” The heat in his eyes and anticipation in our bond cooled my discomfort.