Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
FINLEY
Niev grew smaller and smaller the farther we flew toward the dragons’ caves. I took it all in, though, trying to memorize each sight from atop Hoshiko’s back.
My heart stalled when we flew over our largest lake, where most fae spent summer months playing in the waves and along the shore.
While I wanted to enjoy lake days like so many others, I’d only ever gone a few times at night when very few were still around.
Instead, Etienne and I had found our own refuge and fun along a winding river where it was usually just the two of us.
Well, the two of us and a rope hanging from a tree by the river for us to swing from.
Since I was a youngling still growing into my magic, it’d hurt that so many fae were afraid of my magic.
Brenton had been the only one not to fear me, and when he left to join the military training school shortly after his fourteenth birthday, this loneliness had nestled inside me and latched onto my soul.
Even the dinner parties with Etienne’s family and friends hadn’t eased that festering sadness.
It’d taken a long time for Etienne and me to become friends, and in that time, I’d noticed he was as lonely as I was despite the many younglings who vied for his attention.
I held my breath when Brenton inched closer to me again. His warm breath tickled my neck and ear, causing goosebumps to spread everywhere. I shivered.
“Look,” he said, pointing forward.
I narrowed my eyes to see what had caught his attention and let out a long whoosh of air when I saw it.
Something in the blue sky shimmered, as if a patch of the sky had been stitched with light.
Tiny flashes of white flared and vanished around the edges, and the air itself seemed to hum.
The energy rolling off it pulsed in time with a faint throb in my chest, each beat tugging something deep inside me.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Hoshiko said that’s the tear in the veil that will take us to Vistos.”
“How was it created?”
I’d heard rumors about the dragons gifting royals magic to create tears in the veil, but considering the many lies the Elders had told us, I wasn’t sure how much of it I believed. Still, to my knowledge, only Elias and the dragons were capable of such a feat.
“An Elder created it with his magic,” Brenton answered. “Hoshiko said the dragon simply willed the tear to exist and flew through it from Vistos.”
Without thought, I grabbed his hand, squeezing it to my stomach where I felt the thump of my quickening pulse.
Brenton drew in a shaky breath. He was so close, I could feel his chest expand with his every breath that fanned against the back of my neck.
Yet it still didn’t feel like he was close enough.
Not when I wanted his breath on my lips.
Not when my body sought him with a certainty my thoughts hadn’t yet reached.
I closed my eyes as we neared the tear, with both fear and exhilaration tangling in my veins. When Brenton brought his other hand to my waist, stroking featherlight touches that I felt through my leather uniform, I settled closer to him so that my back rested against his wide chest.
He snaked his arm around me, clasping our hands together. When he propped his chin on my shoulder, my soul exhaled in relief.
I gripped his hand tighter, not wanting him to move unless it was to draw himself closer to me.
Because being with Brenton was easy. He was . . . too gentle with me, too kind to me. He was too handsome, too . . . He was the kind of male you held on to, the kind of male you never let go. Yet that was exactly what I’d done.
I ran Etienne’s words through my head, wondering if I was brave enough to do as he asked.
I nestled my face closer to Brenton’s, and when he let out a deep rumble of pleasure, pressure built between my legs.
That pressure came so suddenly, was so heavy, that I wanted—no, needed to squeeze my legs together.
Atop Hoshiko, I couldn’t, though, and regardless, in my inexperience, I wasn’t certain what it was my body craved.
He brushed his nose down my cheek to my throat, where he inhaled as if he were taking his first breath of life. I whimpered when he grazed his canines along my neck, and when I arched my neck to the side, he stiffened.
“I can’t do this with you, Finley,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly as if the words dragged through his chest unwillingly.
He let go of my hands, quickly inching away. My body pined for his closeness, and my soul ached for the tether between us.
It wasn’t rejection. It was restraint. Fear. Respect.
“Not when you are with someone else,” he said. “I won’t do this to Etienne. I won’t do it to myself.”
The words were a blade, sharp and precise in the way they cut through me.
For years, I’d let him believe I was Etienne’s.
Even though he clearly wanted me, he still pulled back out of respect for my intended.
I hated that he believed that this burning and clawing I felt for him was already claimed by another when I’d never felt any of it for Etienne.
I held myself upright, my back stiff, while I tried and failed to keep my tears from spilling.
Gods, I hated how easily I cried regardless of how hard I fought to hold my tears back.
Shame filled me, coiling itself around the hurt that spiraled inside me. It was as if my chest was caving in on itself, as if my lungs couldn’t suck in enough air.
Because maybe . . . maybe I was meant to be alone. Maybe my heart was never meant to be possessed by another. Maybe my soul had far too many fractures, too deep for anyone to fill.
So many times in my life, I’d witnessed how easily others formed connections and relationships with each other, while I stayed in my little corner of the universe with no one but Etienne. There had to be something inherently wrong with me, with my magic.
“Don’t cry, Lolli,” he murmured, drawing himself nearer, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me back against his chest. His lips pressed against my hair like an apology. “Please, don’t cry.”
With every gentle caress he gave me, I skirted closer between the edges of hope and despair.
Pressure built inside me as the need to tell Brenton how I felt clambered up my throat. My stomach tightened, my eyes now burning with tears for a different reason. I didn’t want to be eternally alone.
I wanted Brenton. Wanted our souls bound the way fate intended. I wanted to love him freely and to feel what it was like to be loved by him.
I simply wanted him. But he didn’t know that. Not yet.
“Brenton,” I whispered.
Words stuck in my throat, too thick to push out or swallow down.
Because how could he love me when I had dimmed his light and broken his soul? A year ago, we’d come so close to starting a new beginning, but it never took root. It was cruel how much that almost cut so deeply. It was my fault, though, because for a fleeting moment, I’d thought we’d had a chance.
And with Etienne’s words circling in my head, I’d foolishly let myself hope again. But Brenton was drawing careful, virtuous boundaries in place to protect himself . . . and also to protect me. How could I not love this male?