Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
brENTON
The night was quiet, filled only with the chirping of the tiny frogs beyond the tent walls. One perched on a broad leaf in the corner, its throat pulsing as it sang its secrets to us. It was a peaceful symphony.
Finley pressed close against me while her emotions threaded through our bond in heavy waves.
Grief. Frustration. That aching confusion she hadn’t yet voiced.
They wrapped around my chest as tightly as her arm did, her hand curved over my stomach, holding my side as if she needed something solid to cling to.
I lifted my hand to hers, and for a beat, the smoke that had once only obeyed me thrummed beneath her skin. This wasn’t magic but something deeper that lay within the bond. Wonder caught in my throat.
I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in her scent that now held a hint of salt and smoke. My fingers combed through the thick strands of her hair, slow and careful. It was the only comfort I knew how to give at the moment.
She burrowed closer, her body fitting into mine as if she wished to disappear into me.
To escape the weight she carried. She wouldn’t hide from it, though.
No, my Finley, my Lolli had survived many storms and would get through this one as well.
I tightened my arm around her, wishing I could take more than the edges of her pain through our bond. Wishing I could carry it all.
Her breath warmed my chest, and after a long stretch of silence, she whispered, “Since I was a youngling, I always wondered what was fundamentally wrong with me. Now, I know. I’m the death god’s daughter. Why would any fates tie you to someone like me?”
Her words wove through our bond, sharp with grief and confusion. She tried to keep her voice steady, but each word trembled.
I tipped her chin up and kissed her forehead.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I said against her skin.
“You are perfect. It doesn’t matter who you got your magic from.
It is yours, and you get to make it your own.
And fate . . . fate knew exactly what they were doing when they bound our souls together.
Even if they hadn’t bound us, I’d choose you.
The youngling who’d sneak into the orphanage to play with me.
The one who learned to share her lollipops as an adult.
The youngling who gave herself a terrible haircut to make me feel better about mine.
The female who still plays with me and teases me and holds on to me like I’m all that matters. ”
Her eyes met mine, and my chest pinched at the hazel of my eyes that now eclipsed her silver orbs. “You are all that matters.”
“I am bound to you, not because our bond demands it, but because my heart does,” I said. “I love you, Finley. I love you the way the sun loves the horizon, unyielding, consuming, and destined to chase you until the end of time. I was always meant to be yours.”
Her fingers traced over my chest, and my muscles twitched at the contact. “How do you make loving me sound so simple?”
“I was made to love you, Finley. This isn’t fate’s design or some divine hand guiding me. It’s a truth carved in my bones, burned into every breath I take. I was put on this earth for one person, and gods help anyone who tries to keep me from you. I was made to love you.”
She brought her hand up to brush her thumb across my jaw.
“Loving you is the easiest, most natural thing for me.” Her smile was small, almost bashful.
“It’s shown me what completion feels like.
I know I’ll always love Etienne as the kind and faithful friend he is, almost as a brother, but the difference I feel for you has no words.
You somehow make my heart race and soothe it, all at the same time. ”
A grin tugged at my mouth. “Make your heart race, do I?” I swept my lips over hers in a ghost of a kiss. “Good. I’d be offended otherwise.”
Although I didn’t really want Etienne’s name to be mentioned, knowing she believed our love to be superior brought immense joy to my soul.
Her laugh was soft, barely there, but it still lived and would continue to do so as long as I had breath in my lungs.
Her gaze shifted to the pack at my side. “The book Eiran gave you . . . what is it?”
“A tome of the gods,” I said, my thoughts flashing to the thick book Eiran had pressed into my hands before we left.
“He promised it would help me unravel the truths the Elders buried beneath their lies.” Rather than reach for the tome, I pulled out the book Teddy had given me.
The worn spine bent as I turned it in my hand.
“What do you say I read this to you tonight? It has pirates and treasures and adventure.”
Her lips curved. “You’re going to read it to me?”
I flipped to the first page, ignoring the bookmark that held my spot midway through the book. She curled herself closer, and I began to read, my voice filling the quiet of the tent, blending my words with the chirp from the frog in the corner.
“Chapter one. To a boy with salt in his veins, the sea was a temptress. She offered a freedom he would chase to the ends of the world.”
Slowly, the thick heaviness in our bond thinned, carrying something gentler and more tender.
Love. Contentment.
Morning came with a soft glow through the tent and Finley’s ravenous stomach growling. She held her palm to it and laughed.
“I’m starving.” Her cheeks lifted with her smile.
I gave her my own devilish smile. “Anything in particular you’re hungry for?”
Her stomach rumbled again, louder this time, and she shoved my shoulder.
“Fine, fine,” I said with a laugh. “I’ll make us something to eat.”
Finley scrambled to her feet, my oversized shirt and shorts hanging loosely on her athletic frame. Gods help me, she was a sight to behold.
“Why don’t I make us something?” She dragged her teeth over her bottom lip.
I pointed at her. “That look worries me. Do you even know how to cook? I’d rather not get food poisoning when I don’t have magic to heal myself.”
Her lips pressed together in mock offense. “I can cook just fine.”
I leaned back on my elbows and smirked. “I recall a time when we tried to cook over an open fire, and you burned water.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s called steam, Brenton.”
“It was smoke.” My grin widened. “My smoke magic makes me an expert on such things.”
“You’re exaggerating.” The twitch of her lips ruined her glare. My stomach twisted when she removed my clothes to put her own on. “Am I making us breakfast or not?”
“Depends.” I stretched my back before I stood at her side, fingering the hem of her shirt where the sun had bronzed her skin.
I couldn’t help it. I dipped my head, pressing a slow kiss to the curve of her neck.
“How do you make sun-kissed look breathtaking?” I murmured against her before I straightened with a playful smirk on my face.
“Is making me breakfast on your list of things you want to do?”
Her cheeks reddened with that sweet blush I lived for, but ever the warrior goddess, she angled her chin and pointed at her pack. “Why don’t you pull it out and see?”
With her permission, I wasted little time in retrieving it. Her pack was organized chaos with daggers tucked in beside dried fruit, a bound book, and what she had left of the lollipops, all nine of them.
Tucked between it all was a folded scrap.
I stepped out of the tent, unfolded it with exaggerated care as I approached the fire. “Ah, Finley’s sacred list.”
She glanced over her shoulder.
I cleared my throat. “Number one: Provide Brenton with daily massages while wearing nothing but seashells.”
She snorted. “That is not on there.”
“Number two,” I continued, “inform Brenton at least twice a day how unfairly attractive he is.”
She smiled, shaking her head before she lunged for it. I lifted the parchment higher.
“My turn,” she said. “Make Finley a crown and make her queen for a day.”
I hummed thoughtfully. “Why be a queen when you’re already a goddess?”
She stilled, amusement flickering into something softer. “You didn’t touch my lollipops, did you? I’ll gut you if you stole any.”
I laughed, folding the parchment but keeping it in hand. “I’m doomed either way. If your cooking doesn’t kill me, your sass surely will.”
The chill of morning air wrapped around us, carrying the scent of woodsmoke and seared meat as we crouched beside the fire.
“Who knew you were such a dramatic male?” she teased, the corner of her mouth tugging higher.
I reached over, sweeping her hair off her shoulder, careful not to topple us both into the fire.
Sliding the collar of her shirt to the side, I pressed my lips to the warm curve of her shoulder.
“You knew,” I said, trailing my lips down her arm in a slow taunt.
“Since we were younglings, you nagged me about being dramatic.”
Her laugh was soft and tender, pulling at my heart and making my chest tight. Memories of us and our shared youth kept surfacing like hidden treasures, and each one made it even more obvious that I’d always been hers.
“I remember,” she said, her words bleeding with warmth, “when you refused to come down a tree because you said the world down there was too cruel.” Her eyes caught mine. “I had to climb up after you. Was it you or me who cried the entire time I climbed?”
“Definitely you.” I cupped her chin to kiss her cheek. “You stayed with me while I clung to the branch like some crazed little beast. You stayed until I finally came down.”
Her eyes softened, hazel orbiting her silver gaze. “No wonder you’re so crazy about me.”
Reluctantly, I forced myself to step away from her. I wanted her too much. Now with our magic wound to our souls, it was far too easy to forget the world outside her eyes. “Crazy about being crazy for you.”
She shook her head, amusement clear in her features. “You are by far the strangest male I know, but I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”