C H A P T E R F O R T Y – F I V E
There must be a trigger for her magic. But I won’t let her work it out if it means bringing her harm.
C H A P T E R F O R T Y – F I V E
Olwyn
D arkness swirls in my mind, suffocating, endless.
I'm running—chased by a dark figure, cold and hungry. They reach for me, whispering my name in a voice that makes my skin crawl. No matter how fast I run, they’re always there. Always behind me. I scream, but the sound is swallowed by the void.
I jolt awake, my chest tight, the scream dying on my lips. My heart pounds in my ears, the familiar ache of terror twisting in my gut. But then, a hold on my arm anchors me.
Altair.
He's sitting by my side on the bed, his silhouette a shadow in the dim light of the room. His eyes, those dark, endless eyes, are focused on me, filled with concern. His presence soothes me, pulls me from the lingering claws of the nightmare.
“Altair…” My voice is shaky, barely more than a whisper.
“I'm here,” he murmurs softly, reaching out to brush a strand of silver hair away from my face. His touch is gentle, comforting, but it makes my skin tingle. I feel it as surely as I feel the pull deep inside me, drawing me closer to him.
We sit in silence for a long moment, just looking at each other.
“It was just another nightmare,” I admit finally, my voice barely above a whisper, breaking the fragile stillness between us.
“I know,” he says quietly, his words simple. His gaze holds mine as his thumb brushes lightly against my temple, his touch so careful it almost makes me ache.
My brow furrows. “You… knew?”
He exhales softly, “I felt it.” His hand drops back to his side. There’s a flicker of hesitation in his expression, like he’s debating how much to say. “Since I fed from you… I can feel it. When your emotions spike—when you’re happy, angry, when you hurt—I feel it, Olwyn.”
The admission sends a rush of warmth and cold through me all at once. My chest tightens, my thoughts swirling. “You can feel me?”
“It’s faint,” he says, his voice low, soothing. “But yes. It’s like… a thread. Thin but strong. A whisper of your emotions that hums through me.”
My cheeks burn, and I lower my gaze, staring at my hands as they knot together in my lap. I should feel violated. I should feel unnerved. And yet, there’s something oddly reassuring in his words, in the way he admits it so openly, without hesitation or shame.
“How long will it last?”
He rubs his chin. “I’m not sure. But I believe it will fade unless I feed from you again.”
There’s silence for another moment, and I think about the prospect of him feeding from me again. Knowing he can feel heightened emotions, I try to suppress the throb between my thighs, when a thought hits me.
“Does it hurt you?” I ask, glancing up at him.
His lips twitch, not quite forming a smile. “No. It’s… not unpleasant.” He pauses, his gaze softening. “It only hurts when you hurt.”
Those simple words hit me harder than I expect, stirring something deep within me that I don’t entirely understand. I swallow hard, unsure of what to say.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I manage after a moment, my voice a little steadier now.
“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he admits, his tone as careful as his movements. “You’ve had so much thrown at you already, and this… it’s just another thing to add to the weight you’re carrying.”
I shake my head, a soft laugh escaping me despite myself. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”
His brows lift slightly, two-toned eyes curious. “Am I?”
“Yes,” I say, meeting his gaze fully now. “You’re over here carrying half the weight with me without even telling me, and you still think I can’t handle knowing.”
His lips quirk into a faint smirk this time, and he leans back slightly, his arms resting on his thighs. “You surprise me every day, Olwyn. Maybe I should stop underestimating you.”
“Maybe?” I shoot back, some of the tension easing as a small smile tugs at my lips.
For a moment, the heaviness of my nightmare feels distant, replaced by the warmth in his presence.
His eyes search mine, as if trying to decipher the emotions still swirling inside me. He’s so close, the heat of him radiating against my skin, and I feel that pull again—the one I can’t ignore, the one that’s been growing ever since I let him feed from me.
And I don’t know why, but I’m drawn to him. It’s not just the bond from the feeding… it’s more. It's deeper, sharper—like the way his eyes seem to see through every shield I’ve ever put up, making my breath catch before I can even think to steady it.
“Altair,” I begin, hesitating, unsure of how to voice what I’m feeling.
His gaze softens, and he seems to know what I’m about to say before the words even leave my lips. He shifts slightly, turning away from me, his broad shoulders tense. “It’s the feeding bond,” he says quietly. “It makes you want to be close to me. It’s not... real.”
I blink, taken aback. “That’s not true.”
“It is true, Olwyn,” he says, his voice rougher now. “It’s part of what happens when a vampire feeds from someone. You feel drawn to me because of it. I know because I feel it too.”
Is it?
I really think about it.
But then I remember that kiss in the inn. Before he fed from me.
I shake my head, refusing to believe it. “No. It’s more than that. I trust you, Altair. You’ve shown me the truth when no one else would. You’ve protected me. This… What I’m feeling… it’s not just because of the feeding. I’ve come to know you. I’ve come to trust you.”
Altair goes silent, his jaw tightening as if he's fighting against something inside him. He stands, turning his back to me and showing his scars—new and old—his hand clenching at his side. “You don’t know everything about me, Olwyn,” he says, his voice low, pained.
His guilt is written all over him, the tension in his posture, the way he avoids my gaze. But I don’t think I could possibly learn anything about him that would make me not want this, here, now.
I rise, my nightgown brushing against my thighs as I move. The fabric is thin, barely covering me, but in this moment, I don’t care.
I kneel on the bed, my heart racing in my chest as I reach out, my fingers brushing against his skin, tracing around the edges of the fresh scars. Where they stabbed him again and again. “Altair,” I whisper, my voice soft but insistent. He freezes at my touch, his breath hitching.
He turns, and I trace the scars from the arrows, the one so close to his heart—the one that would have killed him.
It makes me feel sick.
Leaning forward, I press a kiss to that one.
“Olwyn…” His voice sounds like a plea, but I can see the tension in his body, the way his nostrils flare as his control slips, little by little.
I can’t stop. I don’t want to. I want him to lose control.
“Altair.” My voice is breathless, my body aching as I look up at him. “I want you to kiss me.” My thighs rub together, the friction sending a wave of heat through me.
His eyes pin mine, nostrils flaring, his control hanging by a thread. “I can’t,” his voice cracks, and I know it’s because he thinks this isn’t really me asking.
I refuse to look away, showing him as much as I can without words that I do want him. “This isn’t some bond. Please .”
His hand wraps in my hair at the base of my neck, and his mouth claims mine, the cool touch of his shadows joins in—a soft, creeping sensation, like an extra pair of hands, tracing my skin with a subtle, teasing caress. They wrap around my wrists, sliding down my arms, ghosting over my hips, and I gasp into his mouth, the sensation unlike anything I’ve ever felt.
The kiss is intense, desperate. His lips are soft but firm, his rough hands cradling my face. I melt into him, my body pressing against his, my need for him overwhelming everything else. The heat of him, the way his lips move against mine—it consumes me.
When he pulls back, his eyes are completely black, darting between mine as if making sure this is real. His breath comes in ragged gasps, his control hanging by a thread. But his shadows—oh gods , his shadows—linger, brushing over my throat, tracing the curve of my jaw. It’s as if they’re alive, an extension of his desire.
“I won’t take more of you than you’ll give me,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire. “I promise. But you need to tell me if you don’t want this at any point.”
I place my hand over his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm, but even as I do, one of his shadows coils around my wrist, dark tendrils twisting up my arm. The cold contrasts with the heat of his body, making my skin tingle. “I want it all. I want you.”
That’s all he needs. His hands are on me in an instant, his lips trailing down my neck, across my collarbone. His touch is fire, burning through me with every touch of his fingers.
“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” His voice is a low growl against my skin, his breath hot and ragged. His shadows mimic the brush of his lips, tracing paths of cold fire down my spine. “Wondered how it would feel to touch your skin. To taste you—fuck, you’re so soft.”
He groans into the crook of my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, while one of his shadows curls around my thigh, sliding higher, teasing the sensitive skin there. The vibration of it thrums through me, sending a pulse of heat straight to my core. I arch into him, desperate for more, my body craving his touch like I’ve never craved anything before. The shadows seem to read my desire, pressing closer, curling around my hips with a possessive hold.
“I’ve done nothing but think about this ever since we wed. Keeping you safe, keeping you sated—right here in my bed,” he breathes, his voice rough with need as he slips a strap off my shoulder. His shadow follows the movement, brushing it down with such tenderness that my breath hitches as the silk slips over a nipple. He groans.
“I think you mean my bed,” I smile.
He chuckles. “True. But now seeing you panting for me, I never want to leave it.”
His mouth and words are doing insane things to my body, my skin feeling charged and alive. He lowers me onto the bed, and I relish his weight as he joins me, as he pulls me closer.
But as I feel myself spiralling, his words echo in my mind, grounding me in this moment.
I never want to leave.
It hits me like a storm, crashing through my desire, through the haze of heat that clouds my mind. Because this—this is more than just lust. It’s a promise. A need that goes beyond the physical, beyond the bond. It’s a claim.
And suddenly, I want it too.
Altair’s hands are everywhere—tangling in my hair, tracing the curve of my spine, gripping my arse with a possessiveness that ignites every inch of my skin. His shadows are there too, gliding up my legs, brushing against the most intimate parts of me, teasing, coaxing pleasure out of every nerve.
His lips leave burning trails down my neck, lower, across my collarbone, as he kisses and nips, driving me closer to the edge of sanity with each deliberate touch. The world around us blurs, becoming nothing more than the space between us, the way our bodies fit together like they were made for this.
His mouth hovers over my breast, hot breath teasing my nipple until I’m writhing beneath him, desperate for more. Then his tongue flicks out, circling the peak before his lips close around it, and I gasp, arching up into him as he sucks hard. At the same time, a shadowy tendril wraps around my other breast, the cold contrasting sharply with the heat of his mouth, and I moan, my back bowing off the bed.
Every nerve in my body is on fire, my hips rolling involuntarily toward him as his shadows shift lower, teasing the edges of where I need him most. It's too much, and yet not enough, and I cry out his name, desperate, aching.
“Altair, please,” I beg, my voice breaking. His name is a plea on my lips, and his shadows tighten, dark and demanding.
He groans against my skin, his shadows responding to my need, wrapping around my thighs and parting them, positioning me for him. His breath is hot against my chest as he growls, “I’m going to ruin you, Olwyn.” His shadows coil tighter, pressing down, holding me still as his body descends, his lips brushing against mine one last time before everything else fades.
He groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating through my skin, and his large hand slides down my side, tracing the curve of my hip. But it’s not just his hand anymore. His shadows are there too—cool, slick, and sinuous, sliding over my body like liquid night. His fingers, both real and shadow, slip between my legs, and I gasp as the cold darkness contrasts sharply with the heat of his touch, and he groans again. “Gods, love… you’re soaked.”
A shudder wracks my body as his fingers glide through my slickness, teasing my entrance before circling my clit, sending shocks of pleasure rocketing through me. My thighs tremble, and I buck my hips into his hand, begging for more, needing more.
“Please,” I moan, my voice breathless. But instead of responding right away, his shadows tighten around my thighs, holding me in place as his fingers slide inside me, slow and deep.
I cry out, my hands flying to his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. But two more shadows move, cold and possessive, curling around my wrists, pulling my body back into the mattress as his real fingers curl inside me, hitting a spot that makes my vision blur and my breath stutter.
“Do you know how delicious you look tied to this bed?” he growls against my skin, his voice rough and low, his fangs on show. “How long I’ve wanted to feel you like this… wet and begging beneath me.” His thumb circles my clit, sending another wave of pleasure crashing through me, and I’m gasping, my hips grinding against his hand.
“Altair…” His name falls from my lips in a breathless moan as his fingers pump in and out of me. My body is a trembling, needy mess, every muscle tensing as the heat builds inside me, threatening to consume me.
His shadows wrap around my throat—not tight, just enough for me to feel their cool presence, sending a thrill down my spine.
“No,” he says harshly, my eyes opening. When the shadow around my neck retreats, I realise he is talking to them.
“It’s all right,” I pant, “I liked it.”
“Fuck,” he curses, the tendril moving back to hold me gently. “I’ve imagined this for so long,” he continues, his voice husky as his lips brush against the soft skin just beneath my ear. “Wondered how it would feel to touch you, to taste you…” His shadows suddenly tighten around my thighs, pulling them wider as his fingers slip out of me. I whimper at the loss, but before I can protest, his lips trail down my stomach, and then he’s between my legs, his tongue replacing his fingers.
The first swipe of his tongue over my clit sends a shockwave of pleasure through me, and I can’t hold back the moan that tears from my throat.
“You taste better that I ever could have dreamed,” he says, his voice as dark as midnight. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wide as his tongue moves with agonizing skill, circling, flicking, sucking until I’m a shaking, gasping mess beneath him.
“Gods—” I choke out, itching to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, to pull him closer as my hips grind against his mouth. The heat inside me builds to a breaking point, my body tightening, coiling, and I can feel the climax cresting, threatening to rip me apart.
He groans against me, the vibration of it sending me spiralling over the edge. My back arches, and I scream his name, my body shattering around him as the orgasm crashes through me. Wave after wave of pleasure pulses through me, and he doesn’t stop, his tongue working me through it, drawing out every shuddering gasp until I’m left boneless, trembling, completely undone.
Altair rises above me, his eyes black with desire, his lips glistening with my release. His shadows are still there, still wrapped around my wrists, my ankles, holding me in place as he looks down at me. “You taste incredible,” he murmurs, his voice dark, possessive. He stands, the shadows still swirling around him like living smoke, and removes his loose black trousers.
Gods.
My mouth dries as he returns to the bed and positions himself between my legs, the tip of his cock pressing against my entrance. His shadows pulse around us, tightening and then loosening, as if they too are anticipating what’s about to happen.
“Altair,” I whisper, barely able to form words through the haze of pleasure still clouding my mind. “ Please .”
He doesn’t make me wait. With a single, smooth thrust, he pushes himself inside me, filling me completely, and the sensation of him stretching me, filling me, pulls a guttural moan from my lips.
He stills for a moment, his forehead pressing against mine as we both gasp for air and his shadows release my wrists.
I move my hips, and he chuckles.
“Relax, love. We’re not even all the way there yet.”
I grab his gorgeous, sculpted arse and pull him closer, relishing the feel of him.
“Gods, Olwyn,” he groans, his voice tight with restraint. His shadows pulse in time with his heartbeat, their cool touch everywhere at once. “You feel… so good.”
He begins to move, slow at first, every thrust deep and deliberate, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through my already sensitive body. My legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, harder, and he groans, his pace quickening as he loses himself in the rhythm of our bodies moving together.
He leans up on one arm, the other holding the headboard, and I can’t help but glance over the lines of his muscles, the strand of hair falling into his eyes.
The bed shakes beneath us, the sound of skin against skin, our ragged breaths, filling the room. His hand slips beneath my thigh, lifting my leg higher, changing the angle, and suddenly he’s hitting a spot deep inside me that has me gasping, clawing at his back, crying out with every thrust.
“That’s it,” he growls. “Who does your pleasure belong to? Tell me.”
I gasp, my nails raking down his back as the pleasure builds again, faster, hotter this time. “You, Altair.”
“Say it again,” he growls, his pace quickening, his thrusts more frantic, more desperate. His hand grips my hip, pulling me closer, slamming into me with a force that leaves me breathless.
“It’s yours,” I repeat, my voice breaking as the climax builds again, the pressure inside me coiling tighter and tighter. His shadows slide up my thighs, teasing my skin, as his cock hits deeper, harder. “Yours, Altair.”
He snarls, and I feel his teeth scraping gently across the skin of my neck, sending fire through my chest. The shadows mimic his touch, trailing up my throat, cool and possessive, like they’re marking me alongside him.
For so long, I’ve lived behind walls—walls built by my parents, by the expectations of others, by my own fear. I’ve always felt the tension, the weight of being on guard, of never truly being free. First in Avantra, hidden and neglected, and then here, trapped in a world I barely understand. But now... now, in this moment, I feel something I’ve never felt before: seen. Seen for everything I am, everything I could be, and still wanted.
It’s the surrender, the trust I never thought I’d be capable of giving. For the first time, control slips from my shoulders, freeing me in a way I didn’t know I needed.
And then, a light bursts behind my eyes—a strange, glowing brightness that seems to fill the room, pulsing with every beat of my heart. I clench my eyes shut against the overwhelming brilliance, but I can’t block out the intensity of it.
Then I’m falling, the orgasm ripping through me with a force that steals my breath, my vision going white as pleasure crashes over me in wave after wave. I scream his name, my body trembling violently around him, and he follows me over the edge, his own release hitting him hard, his body shuddering as he spills inside me, his grip on my hips so tight it’s almost painful.
I blink, my vision still hazy from the intensity of the moment, and for a second, I think I'm imagining it.
The light is me.
I see the soft glow emanating from my skin, pulsing gently, as if the very air around me is alive with energy. It's not like before—the wild, uncontrollable burst that saved my life. This is calmer, softer… but no less overwhelming.
Altair’s eyes are wide, his expression frozen somewhere between awe and confusion. His chest rises and falls heavily as he stares at me, his gaze fixated on the light that still clings to my skin, like the faintest shimmer of magic lingering in the aftermath.
“Olwyn…” His voice is low and rough as he pulls out of me, like he’s not sure what to say.
I sit up slightly, my body still trembling from the pleasure, but now there’s a new sensation—something warm, something powerful swirling just beneath my skin. My heart races as I look down at myself, my hands glowing faintly in the dim light of the room. I’m both terrified and mesmerized by it.
What if I hurt him?
“I…” My voice falters as I hold up my hand, watching the soft golden light that radiates from my palm. It’s warm, like sunlight, like a heartbeat. I can feel it pulsing through me, and yet, I have no idea how I’m doing this. I glance at Altair, my breath hitching. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
Altair shifts, his arm still wrapped around me as he pulls me closer, his grip tightening protectively. His eyes, though still wide with shock, brighten with something else—something that feels like reverence.
“You’re glowing,” he breathes, his voice filled with awe. His fingertips brush against the soft glow at the curve of my shoulder, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing. “I felt it when we… I felt it surge through you.”
My skin tingles where his fingers touch, sending ripples of sensation through me. But this time, it’s different. It’s not just pleasure; it’s power. A power I didn’t know I had, and I don’t know how to control.
I shake my head, panic rising in my chest. “Altair, I don’t understand. Why is this happening?” The glow flares for a moment, brightening in response to my rising emotions, and I feel a surge of energy that I can’t contain. What if it bursts out? What if it harms him?
He sits up fully now, his hand steady on my shoulder. “Olwyn, calm down,” he says softly, his voice like a tether, grounding me. “You need to breathe. Just breathe.”
I do as he says, focusing on my breath, trying to pull myself back from the edge of panic. Slowly, the glow begins to dim, the light fading until it’s barely a shimmer on my skin, but I can feel it still there—waiting just beneath the surface.
Altair’s hand slides up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing softly against my skin as he looks into my eyes. His own are… bright.
Both bright. And blue .
I wonder if I’ve done that, or if it’s something else. Before I can ask, he continues speaking.
“You’ve always had this power inside you, Olwyn,” he says quietly, his gaze intense, searching. “I felt it the moment I first fed from you. The magic in your blood is more powerful than anything I’ve ever seen.”
I blink, my heart pounding in my chest. “But… I’ve never felt anything like this before. I didn’t even know I could use it. Why is it happening now?”
His jaw clenches slightly as if weighing his next words. “Your powers are linked to your emotions. I think… the intensity of what just happened between us triggered it.” He hesitates for a moment, his fingers brushing over my lips, his gaze dropping to where the faint shimmer of light still lingers on my skin. “You’re more powerful than even I realised.”
I look down at my hands again, flexing my fingers, trying to make sense of the sensation. “I… I don’t know how to control it,” I whisper, fear creeping into my voice. “What if I hurt someone? What if I hurt you?”
Altair’s grip tightens, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my breath catch. “You won’t hurt me,” he says, his voice low but firm. “You couldn’t. I trust you, Olwyn.”
His words sink into me, warm and steady, and for a moment, I let myself believe them. I let myself believe that maybe—just maybe—I can handle this. But the fear still lingers at the edges of my mind, gnawing at me.
“What if you’re wrong?” I ask softly, my voice barely a whisper.
Altair’s thumb brushes against my cheek again, his eyes softening as he looks at me. “Then I’ll be right here with you. We’ll figure it out.”
His words are a promise. He’s offering more than just protection—he’s offering me a place beside him, a chance to figure out who I really am and what I’m capable of.
And after spending so many years shut away, only able to sneak away in the middle of the night, alone… it feels like it’s starting to fill a hole I never really knew existed.
I lean into his touch, my eyes closing as I try to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” I admit, my voice trembling slightly. “It’s too much, Altair. I don’t know what to do.”
He tilts my chin up gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You don’t have to be ready,” he says softly, his eyes locked on mine. “You just have to trust yourself.”
Trust.
It’s such a simple word, but it feels like the hardest thing in the world right now. But when I look at him, when I feel the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his breath, I realise that maybe… just maybe, I can.
“Your eyes are blue,” I blurt out, before I can forget to mention it.
The eyes in question widen, and suddenly the warmth around us fades.
“My eyes?” he repeats, his voice suddenly cautious. His gaze flickers, scanning my face as though searching for something, and then I see it—the shadows curling back over the iris of his good eye, swallowing the vibrant blue that had stunned me into silence just moments ago.
It’s as though he’s building a wall again, closing himself off from whatever vulnerability he’d just shown me.
“They were both blue.” I say, the image of them—bright, clear blue—still clear in my mind. “For a moment, they were both blue.” I frown, the image of them so familiar.
His jaw clenches, and I can feel the tension rising between us again, the something unspoken settling like a heavy fog in the air. He pulls his hand away from my cheek, and the loss of his touch feels colder than I expect.
“It’s nothing,” he says, his voice tight.
But it isn’t nothing . I can feel it in the way he is holding himself.
Does it have something to do with how he got his scar? Maybe I pushed a little too far.
But I still want to know more about him.
“I don’t believe that.” My voice is quiet but firm, and I reach out, placing my hand on his chest where I can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my fingers. “Altair, I saw it. And your scars. You don’t have to hide from me.”
His body tenses under my touch, and for a moment, I think he might pull away. But he doesn’t. He just sits there, staring down at me with an intensity that makes my pulse race.
“I’m not hiding,” he says, though there’s an edge to his voice that tells me he’s holding something back. “But there are things… things I can’t explain right now.”
I search his face, trying to understand. But he’s giving me nothing, his expression carefully controlled, as if he’s forcing himself not to let me in any further. I don’t know what to do with that. We’ve just shared something so intimate, so intense, and now he’s pulling back—shutting me out.
“I thought we trusted each other,” I say. “You told me to trust myself, but how am I supposed to do that when you won’t trust me?”
Altair’s eyes darken further, the shadows swirling in the depths of his gaze. His lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, I think he’s going to walk away. But then he takes a slow, deep breath, as if weighing his next words carefully.
“It’s not about trust,” he finally says, his voice low and rough. “It’s about protecting you. There are things I’ve done you can’t possibly understand. And I can’t—”
“I thought you were training me to protect myself,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended. “You told me I was stronger than I realised. Was that a lie?”
His brows pull together, his lips parting slightly as if my words have caught him off guard. “It’s not a lie—”
“Then stop treating me like I’m fragile!” I cut him off, my chest tightening as the anger inside me rises. “If I’m so strong, why won’t you tell me anything? Why won’t you let me make my own choices instead of still trying to control everything?”
“It’s not about control,” he growls, his voice low but dangerous. The room feels smaller suddenly, his shadows pressing in around us. “It’s about protecting you from things you’re not ready for!”
“How would you know what I’m ready for?” I snap back, refusing to let the tension in the room swallow me whole. “You don’t even try to explain. You just make decisions for me. You just expect me to follow along blindly, without question. Do you even realise how insulting that is?”
His jaw tightens, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Olwyn, you have had a tiny taste of what’s coming for us. I’ve fought battles, faced horrors that would—”
“Then show me!” I shout, my voice breaking slightly. “Tell me what you’ve done, what you’ve seen! Let me decide if I can handle it instead of keeping me in the dark like I’m some delicate flower that needs shielding from the world.”
Altair’s head jerks back, his shadows coiling tighter around his form, restless and agitated. He stares at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and I can’t tell if he’s angry, hurt, or just exhausted.
“You don’t understand fully what it’s like to rule a kingdom,” he finally says, his voice quieter but no less intense. “To know that every decision you make could mean life or death for the people you’ve sworn to protect. I can’t afford to make mistakes in those decisions with you, Olwyn. Not with you. If anything happened to you—”
He stops himself again, his hands trembling slightly as he drags them through his hair. “I can’t lose you,” he repeats, softer this time, almost a whisper.
His vulnerability hits me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, my anger wavers. But it doesn’t disappear.
“Then stop treating me like something you can lose,” I say, my voice steadier now, quieter but no less determined. “I’m not a trinket or a trophy, Altair. I’m a person. And if you really believe I’m strong, then trust me enough to make my own decisions. You may have forced me into this marriage and to stay here, but now I’m choosing to stay. I’m choosing to trust you. So now trust me enough to stand by your side—not behind you.”
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, the world feels suspended, our words hanging heavy between us. The shadows around him seem to still, their restless movement quieting as he studies me.
“I’m trying,” he says finally, his voice raw. “I’ve just been trying to prot—”
I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “No. Don’t you dare say you’re doing this to protect me. I’m not some helpless girl who needs to be shielded from the world anymore. I’ve been fighting my entire life. I’ve survived this long because of my own strength, not because someone else decided to play saviour.”
Altair’s eyes darken, but there’s a flicker of something else—admiration, maybe—beneath the anger. “I know you’re strong,” he says, his voice low, but there’s a growl there too, simmering just beneath the surface. “That’s why I’m trying to protect you. Because I can’t lose you, Olwyn. Not after everything.”
His words hit something inside me, something I don’t want to acknowledge. I feel the tug between us, the magnetic pull I’m trying so hard to ignore, and for a moment, the fire in my chest flares higher, threatening to consume me.
“So that’s it?” I ask, my voice hardening. “You think keeping me in the dark, making decisions for me, is how you protect me? You’re not giving me a choice, Altair. You say you don’t want to lose me, but you won’t even let me decide for myself.” I narrow my eyes, challenging him to argue with me, to keep hiding behind whatever excuses he’s built around himself.
“And what if the truth breaks you?” He shouts, his eyes wild with panic.
I tilt my chin up. “I get to decide what I can handle, not you.”
He’s silent for a moment, the tension between us crackling like a storm about to break. His fists clench at his sides, shadows flickering at the edges of his form, but he doesn’t move.
And then, something in him changes. In a voice quieter than I’ve ever heard from him, he says, “You’re right.”
I blink, surprised by his admission.
“You’re right, Olwyn,” he repeats, his eyes holding mine with that same raw intensity that makes my heart lurch. “I should’ve been honest. I should’ve trusted you to handle the truth. But I wasn’t ready. I was… afraid.”
“Afraid of what?” I demand, my voice still laced with insolence, though my heart is pounding in my chest.
“Of what you’d think of me if you knew,” he admits, his voice hoarse. “Of what I’ve done. Of the choices I’ve made. I thought if I kept you at a distance, you’d never learn my truth, never see the monster in me.”
I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at him. “What could be so bad that you don’t think I would choose you once I know everything?”
His gaze softens, and for the first time, I see the real weight of his guilt, the burden he’s been carrying. “All right,” he says quietly. “If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go tell Iolas, that way if you need someone to talk to after… he can be there for you.”
Gods, how bad is this going to be?
“Fine,” I mutter, though I’m far from satisfied.
His lips turn up into a small smile, and he leans closer, brushing a strand of hair away from my face with a tenderness that almost makes me forget how angry I am. Almost.
“Rest, love,” he whispers, his voice soft as he wraps an arm around me, pulling me against his chest in a hug. “I’ll be back shortly.”
I let out a small huff, still irritated, but the warmth of his body against mine is comforting in a way I can’t explain. My anger fizzles out as an exhaustion creeps in, and despite everything, I feel myself relaxing into his embrace.
“All right,” I murmur, my voice heavy as I rest my head against his chest.
He squeezes me once more before pressing a kiss to the top of my head and standing to stride to the door. He looks back once before he shuts it, and I realise he looks terrified.
But after the door clicks, I lie down and close my eyes, letting the tension drain from my body, feeling sated and scared all the same.