35. Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Five
Lymseia
T he first thing I notice when I wake is that my fighting leathers are gone. Then it’s the plush material beneath me, followed by the warm, familiar feeling in my chest.
Our mate bond.
Rising to a sitting position, I stretch my arms out above my head and open my eyes. Two women with rounded human ears—servants, I gather—busy themselves dusting the furniture. I glance down at the bronze-colored blankets draped over me, and then look out the window to the sprawling grounds beyond.
Like an old friend, familiarity washes over me.
“I’m at High Keep,” I say aloud, a smile tugging at my lips. My brow furrows, worry rising in my chest, dampening my words. This time, I frown. “I’m at High Keep.”
Wide-eyed, the servants whirl around to me, looking as if they’ve seen a ghost.
“Excuse me,” I say, standing. “Do you know if Ash—if Lord Larmanne is here?”
Without saying a word, the servants flee from the room.
“Well, then,” I say, throwing my hands up with a huff. “I’ll have to track him down myself.”
Barefoot, I step into the hallway, leaving the door to the bedchamber open. The light filling the hall and the servants bustling in either direction tells me that it’s midday.
A female with a healer’s dress stops dead in her tracks when she sees me. “Lady Wynterliff,” she exclaims, rushing to me. Placing a hand under my elbow and another to my upper back, she guides me back the way I came. “We must get you back to bed.”
“No,” I demand, digging my heels. “I’m going to—where is Asheros? I must see Lord Larmanne this instant.”
The female opens her mouth, then closes it. “Lord Larmanne is—” She pauses, clearly thinking better. Scanning the hall, she signals to one of the servants. “Inform the High King at once that Lady Wynterliff is awake.”
The servant scurries down the hall.
“His Majesty will sort everything out,” the female assures me. She tries to urge me forward, but I don’t budge. Adopting a stern tone, she adds, “If you go back to bed.”
“Fine,” I surrender, my voice hard. “But if someone doesn’t start giving me answers, I swear I’ll make you all regret the day you were born.”
T ime is passing slower than usual. Either I’m quite impatient, or Viridian takes his sweet time coming to my room.
When he finally arrives, Cryssa is with him. It’s her I see first.
“Lymseia!” She barrels into me, nearly knocking me over with the sheer force of her hug. “You’re alive,” she exclaims.
“Well, I’m alive for now,” I gasp. “I won’t be for much longer without air.”
“We can’t have that,” she says, releasing me.
“Much better,” I tell her, taking several deep breaths.
Viridian approaches, his shoulders sagging with relief. “Gods, Lymseia. You have no idea how good it is to see you awake.”
“So everyone keeps telling me,” I remark. “How long have I not been awake?”
“Two days,” Viridian says, with the tone of voice one has when they’ve been up all night.
“Gods above,” I murmur. “Two days?” Worry clouds my mind, seizing my heart. “Asheros.” Looking directly at Viridian, I ask, “Where is he? I must see him.”
“I…” Viridian sighs, pressing his mouth into a fine line. “Your mate is currently locked in the dungeons.”
“The dungeons?” I repeat, my outrage echoing off the walls. “Why on the god’s green earth do you have my mate locked in the dungeons?”
Viridian holds up his palms, as though in an attempt to settle me back down. “Ambushing a royal diplomat on her journey and killing her guards is an act against the crown. Your mate has committed treason, and as High King, I must act accordingly.”
“In his own, convoluted manner of thinking,” I say, shaking from my anger, “he was trying to do what he thought would save you, you idiot!”
“Really,” Viridian says, like he doesn’t believe me. “He was trying to save me?”
“Yes,” I exclaim. “And then, for the past however many months, he’s been helping me investigate your father’s murderer, and oh—”
My stomach falls, twisting with the knowledge I’d uncovered moments before whatever Tanyl did to me took hold. “Viridian, I know who killed your father.”
His face darkens, and he runs a hand along his mouth. “Later. Tell me that later.” Letting out a long sigh, he hangs his head forward in reluctance with a curse on his lips. “Right now, I’m going to release your mate.”
I practically fly down to the dungeons. So much so, that Cryssa and Viridian have to break into a jog to keep up with me. Servants toss me sidelong glances as I do, likely because I’m wearing nothing but a nightgown— at midday —but I pay them no mind.
“Gods, Lymseia,” Viridian calls after me, “slow down, will you? At this rate, you’re going to rupture something.”
I don’t heed Viridian’s warning. Instead, I run faster.
The moment the door to the dungeons is unlocked, I glide down the stairs, running between the cells, frantically searching for the right one.
Then I see him.
My heart overflows with joy.
His gaze immediately locks with mine, those crystalline eyes shining with unshed tears. All at once, his love, his happiness, and most of all, his relief, overwhelm my senses through the bond, meshing with mine.
Viridian makes quick work of the magical locking spell and swings the door open.
Asheros rises to his feet, and I tumble into his arms. We swirl around each other like the clashing of warm and cool winds, a typhoon of longing and agony and elation like no other.
“Thank the gods, you’re all right,” he murmurs, stroking my hair. He holds me tightly to his body, as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear. “Gods, Bladesinger, I was so, so afraid I’d lost you.”
“Please,” I say, mustering my bravado, “it’ll take more than whatever that was to get rid of me.” Beaming up at him, I poke his chest. “Unfortunately for you, there’s no escape.”
Asheros laughs—gods above, when was the last time he laughed —and it fills me with so much warmth, that I decide to spend an eternity making his face light up like that. Again and again and again, just to see him smile at me this way.
“Then luckily for you,” he says, leaning his face down to mine, “I have absolutely no desire to ever be anywhere but where you are. I am yours, Bladesinger. All yours. Body and soul.”
“Body and soul,” I echo, loving how the words taste on my tongue.
Grabbing fistfuls of the collar of his shirt, I drag his mouth down to mine and kiss him. It’s a hard, unyielding kiss. It’s not soft, or gentle, or even tender. But it’s raw and it’s passionate and it’s desperate. We kiss each other like two souls merging into one, like twin flames burning even brighter together. His lips move over mine, and I throw my arms around his neck, needing the physical proof he’s here. That I’m alive.
That we’re together.
When we part, still entangled in each other’s arms, he looks at me in awe as though I’m his universe. His goddess.
“I didn’t think… You were under a sleeping curse, Lymseia. I thought—I couldn’t… I was so powerless. The night it happened, I woke to your fear. I felt it. You were so afraid, and I couldn’t…” He presses his lips together, guilt wearing down his handsome features. “I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t protect you.”
“Shh.” I reach up to place my hand against his cheek, and closing his eyes, he leans into my touch. “The curse is broken. And I have a feeling that’s all because of you. Because of your love for me.”
He opens his eyes, the wounded look inside them tearing me apart. “I could feel you fighting it,” he says softly. “While you were asleep.”
I blink away my surprise. I have no memory of the past two days, and yet I’m not surprised to learn I resisted.
“Of course I fought it,” I say, letting confidence flow through my voice. “I wasn’t about to let you have all the fun without me. Besides, who would threaten to punch you every day if not for me?”
A small smile tugs at his lips, and I take it as a little victory. “You know, you say that, yet you never do.”
“Well…” I smirk, letting my eyes fall to his lips before lifting back up to his diamond irises. “You see, I’ve come to quite like your pretty face, and it would be a gods-damn shame to mess it up.”
Shaking his head a little, he grins and dips me for an earth-shattering kiss. I feel everything and nothing at the same time, the feeling of his lips on mine blinding me to the world around us. There is no separation between where I end and where he begins, no place where his essence can be distinguished from mine.
When he pulls away, Asheros takes my face between his hands and touches his forehead to mine. My breath hitches, thrilled by his nearness, by how wonderful and exhilarating and gods-damned amazing it is to be reunited with my love, my equal, my mate.
“Nervous, Bladesinger?” I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
“You wish,” I reply, silently thanking every god that cares enough to listen.
This is what I fought for.
What I’ll continue to fight for, every single day.
Closing my eyes, I inhale his scent, letting it wash over me. I stand before him, fully healed. My physical body and my soul. Our love has healed me. Our love has healed us both in more ways than one.
Somewhere, beyond these walls, Tanyl plots our kingdom’s destruction. He and the crepulnai move in the shadows in service of the queen of the Old Gods—a threat like no other. Only the gods themselves can know the full extent of what lies ahead. Of the battles to be fought.
But right here, right now, in the arms of my mate, I know that our love is the one force in this world that’s capable of anything.
And in this moment, that’s more than enough.