Chapter 19 #2
A tremor passes through me. My hands turn to ice even as he reaches out to cup them. “Vale, you’re scaring me.”
He shakes his head sharply and at last lifts his gaze to mine.
What he meets are the tears I hold back, unfallen but threatening.
“No, little flame. Nothing to fear.” His fingers brush my cheek but do nothing to soothe me.
He sits taller then, like a man summoning every ounce of diplomacy to deliver a message that may well wound.
“My men have been conducting regular patrols since we arrived here together. The mountain passes, the trails both common and secret, even the forest where your cottage lies.”
I have to force myself to breathe as each word tightens around me.
“There is no sign of the dangers that pursued me.” His sigh is heavier than relief. “From the intelligence my allies have gathered, the threat moved as a targeted strike.” He shifts closer now, his thumb tracing worried circles on my wrist.
“So what does this mean?” I ask, hoping to know what has wounded him so, what shadows still wait. Each passing second holds me frozen. His pause is full of reluctance that shakes me to the core.
“It means you can go back… if you want.” His eyes clench shut, and in that moment, I understand. This is no battlefield, no parley; it is a war within himself—my freedom versus his heart.
My shoulders sink. The cottage. The one place I have ever felt peace. No… It is the one place I have felt peace until him. My eyes dart, scanning the floor as if it holds the words I mean to say.
A chuckle cracks through him, raw and startling me.
“My stubborn, willful flame, with a mind all her own. Boldness I worry about at times…” He looks at me then, sincerity naked in his face.
“I know you will always do what you want to do. But I must ask you—” He shifts uneasily in his chair.
This is not a man used to asking for anything.
Yes, he works toward peace, but he is a man who leads them all.
And yet he sits across from me, conflict thick in his voice.
“Consider staying. Consider making Caerhollan your home. Not because you have to. Not because it’s safer.
But because…” His voice breaks. “…I can’t imagine not having you here. Because…”
I don’t have to think. I don’t have to search. My heart knows my answer in a way my head cannot refute.
I rise to my feet, moving with grace rather than the unbridled joy with which I bounded to him before. My arms go around his neck, enveloping him. His scent—smoke, leather, rain—wraps me as surely as my embrace. “I love you too,” I whisper, kissing the crown of his midnight hair.
He catches my wrist as I begin to lower my arms, but instead of pushing me away, he rises, pulling me with him.
His grip on my waist is firm, his other hand threading through my hair as his lips press to mine with passion and surrender.
“Mira. My Mira… I love you.” His forehead rests against mine until I tilt my chin, our lips finding each other again.
The kiss deepens, mouths parting in an unspoken vow, tongues dancing and teasing, his teeth tugging at my lip until we stand trembling and resolute. I ease back, still anchored by his hands at my back. My palm presses over his heart. “Will I be accepted here? In Caerhollan? Not as a guest but—”
“You will be at my side, Mira,” he rumbles, the power of his claim tightening my chest. “And anyone—anyone—who cannot accept that will answer to me.”
His palm shifts up between my shoulders as I press my cheek to his chest. I can almost feel the fire ready to spill from within him. Is it the thought of losing me, or of any who might oppose, that awakens that furor?
I press a gentle kiss to his lips and answer, “Yes, Vale. I will stay.”
My fingers slip to the chain at my throat, finding the small weight that has rested there since the day I left Eryndor’s cottage, since before I ever imagined this life.
He stills as I lift it free, eyes flickering down in quiet surprise.
I rise on my feet to bring it over his head, now resting close to his heart as it once did my own. His breath catches, reverent, as I press my palm over it for a moment before taking a step back to really look at him.
“It suits you,” I whisper, echoing the memory of the night we first came together.
“Mira…”
“I want you to carry it,” I say softly. “Wherever you go.”
I have barely a moment to see the smile that follows before his mouth reclaims mine. In one dizzying move, he sweeps me off my feet. I squeal at the upheaval as he carries me to the bed, his strides sure and steady. “Say it again.” The gravel in his voice stirs the heat within me.
“I will stay.”
Another consuming kiss. My fingers tug at his shirt, my body’s will overtaking thought. Within moments, we are bare, tangled, one.
I feel the eager pulse of him as he shifts between my thighs. His hand caresses the inside of my leg, curving inward until a gasp escapes me. A single finger slides across my slickness, telling him, too, how ready I am. He grips my hip, pulling me closer.
“I love you, Mira,” he growls, the blaze of passion in his eyes mirroring my own.
I cup his cheek, his beard rasping against my palm. “I love you too, Vale.”
Leaning into each other, we seal our fate with a kiss as he enters me. I gasp as he pushes to the hilt in one deep, consuming thrust. My hips rock to meet him. I am his. He is mine.
We move together, rhythm found again. His hand scoops under my back, lifting me to him with each wave.
My head presses back into the pillow. He is everywhere—heat, weight, scent.
He carries me through each crest, my nails scoring his back as my tender heat wraps around his rigid length.
Each cry of his name becomes a claim. Each thrust a vow.
My scream rips through the chamber as release seizes me.
He lays me down, breath ragged, and collapses beside me—still hard, still wanting.
My fire unleashed, I shift until I straddle him, lowering myself until I take him completely.
Groaning at the sensation, his hands grip my hips.
I move in slow, steady circles, pressing down, my clit aching with each stroke.
I begin to rock my hips, coaxing more groans from him.
He pulls himself up against the pillows, bringing me with him.
His palm splays between my shoulder blades as my hair cascades down my back.
His mouth finds my breast, tongue flicking at my nipple until I buck wildly.
He eases back, eyes drinking me in. “Gods, you’re luminous. ”
I shake my head with a sly smile and give myself over to him and to my own hunger.
Moving wickedly, his thumb finds my tender bud and draws me toward another climax.
The rise and fall of my body, chasing that release for us together, consumes us both.
His roar joins my shattering cries, a confluence of need and want sated as one.
I linger there, still straddling him, my hand on his chest as I steady myself. Every part of me tingles as I feel the quickened pulse of me draw out every last drop of his release.
Our breaths slow, becoming steady. He pulls me close as I sink down beside him, his lips brushing my temple in a silent prayer as his arms wrap me wholly.
The fire dies low in the hearth, embers dimming to a quiet glow.
Moonlight pools across the stone floor, pale and patient, the only sign any world beyond us exists at all.
Wrapped together beneath the blanket, skin still humming, our breaths fall into rhythm with the hush of the night until sleep takes us both.
For once, I am not locked in a chase with sleep. It comes willingly, wrapping me in warmth and promise.
“I love you,” I whisper one last time into the night. And for a heartbeat, I swear the world itself bows to listen—as if prophecy had been waiting for these words.