Chapter 37
My head snapped up, eyes bleary and mind fuzzy.
The fire burned low in the hearth. With a groan, I rose, grabbing a pillow from the sofa and placing it beside Vaeron’s head.
I pulled a chair up, sighing as I sank onto it.
I stroked my fingers through his hair, savoring the silky feel of the strands.
Until sunlight spilled through the window, forcing me awake again.
Blinking away the fog of slumber, I found Vaeron’s brow smooth and his breathing even. Tentatively, I lifted the sheet covering him, checking on his wound. Ruby still stained his skin, but otherwise, it looked unaffected.
“How is he?”
The feminine voice made me jump. Isra leaned against the frame of the broken window, the sheet I’d secured only half hanging now.
“He still hasn’t woken,” I told her.
She nodded, her riot of white curls catching the morning light. “Give him time.”
“How did you…” I cleared my throat, rubbing the heels of my palms into my eyes. Goddess, I was so fucking tired.
“Keep him alive?”
“Yes.”
“My Telekinetic powers allow me to hold water. There is water in blood,” she explained, stooping to clean up the mess they’d made bursting through the glass. The shards tinkled in her palm, accompanying the tweeting of birds as they flew by.
“And how did you know we were in trouble?” Because it had been late at night, and we’d thought everyone had gone to bed.
“Oshenai insisted on round-the-clock patrols. And since I am…disliked, I got the worst slot,” she explained, keeping her gaze averted.
“I shouldn’t have been peering in the windows.
We were forbidden from that too, since our chieftain thought it might dissuade the Issaraeth from keeping us around.
But I was curious as to why you all were up so late.
When I witnessed his distress, I flew to Oshenai. ”
“Thank the Goddess you did,” I said, studying her in the new light of day.
Gray leathers hugged her frame, and beneath them, she wore a thick sweater and woolen pants.
She carried herself like a battle-worn soldier whose confidence had been chained to some unseen weight.
“He would have died without your intervention. I don’t know how I can ever repay you. ”
Finally, she lifted her head, turquoise eyes meeting mine. An ache lived in them—wanting to be useful, wanting to be recognized, wanting to be accepted. “Please keep me on your guard, Seraelth.”
The memory of the vision struck me then. I’d Seen her on a battlefield, and she’d asked me what I was doing there. She’d told me I was supposed to be somewhere else…
It had been so long ago, I’d forgotten most of the details. Giving myself a small shake, I forced the thoughts from my head. There would be time to unpack that later. “Call me Sylaira.”
A wide grin broke out on her face. “Sylaira.”
“Do you know where Maelsar and Lyriasthe went?” I asked.
“I didn’t see. They weren’t here when I walked past,” she explained.
I nodded. Hopefully, they’d gone to find sustenance—or the healer. Preferably both. Though the thought of food made my stomach simultaneously growl and turn.
“I’d better get back to my rounds before I am missed,” Isra said.
“Thank you,” I whispered, offering her a small smile. As much as I could when my mate still hadn’t awoken.
She dipped her head, backing away through the broken window. I took a small comfort in the islanders circling us, ensuring we were protected even when we didn’t know we needed it.
A cool breeze swept through the room, and I called on my magic to secure the sheet across the window frame again. Every muscle protesting from the awkward way I’d slept, I went to the sofas and plucked Maelsar and Lyriasthe’s blankets, draping them over Vaeron.
I could have wrapped white around him and ferried him to the bed, but I wanted the healer to check on him first. So I settled in my chair again, tracing the scar that bisected his brow. Running my fingers along his strong jaw. Watching the slow rise and fall of his powerful chest.
I ventured down our bond, seeking something—anything—from him. But only a void of black greeted me.
Hot salt pricked my eyes. I looked out the window, the lake beyond blurring. An endless blue expanse stretched above it, not a cloud in sight.
And so I prayed.
“Radiant Mother, creator of all life, hear my prayer. Cleanse this world with Your holy light. I walk in Your truth, illuminated by Your divine will. Let Your justice flow through my hands.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, hooking my thumbs together. “Sanctify me with Your grace. Let no doubt about Your path poison my heart. Let no mercy be given to the wicked.”
I brought my joined hands to my forehead. “Burn away all falsehood. Leave only Your holy order behind.”
Exhaling a shuddering breath, I offered my plea. “Goddess, guide Vaeron back to me. I was foolish to reject Your blessing all this time. Both my mate and my visions.”
Twin tears dropped down my cheeks and onto Vaeron’s bare shoulder. “If you love Your children at all, You’ll help us find a way to peace. Show me the path You want us to take.”
I half expected the darkness to edge in, for my spine to lock straight as She offered me a prophecy. But nothing happened except a downpour from my eyes.
I rested my head against Vaeron’s skin, inhaling his stormwood scent. He loved me. He never stopped, even when I was furious with him. I’d been so awful to him, and he could have walked away so many times.
But he never did.
He chose me because he loved my rage. Because he loved my loyalty to Heraphia. Because I got to be defiant when he had to be dutiful.
And I loved him because of his strength. Because of how he protected those he cared about. Because he put everyone else before himself.
It was time that someone else put him first—me. When he woke, everything would be different. No matter if we disagreed, if we hurt each other again, I would not run. I would not block him out. We’d talk and fight until we’d resolved the pain between us.
Quiet sobs wracked my chest, and more wetness leaked out of me. Time passed—whether it was minutes or hours, I didn’t know. No one returned. No one came to check on my mate.
“Please, Goddess, please,” I rasped, my eyes drifting closed.
A warm hand on my shoulder jolted me awake. “Sylaira,” Vaeron croaked.
I shot to my feet, staring down at my mate. One ice-blue iris and one stormy lavender, darker now than it had been before we pulled the bronze threads out of his skin, greeted me.
My lips crashed against his before I could stop myself. He kissed me back with equal fervor, his tongue demanding entrance into my mouth. A moan slid from him to me.
“Fuck, little fugitive, I love you.”
“I love you, Vaeron. I’m so sorry.”
Breathless, I broke away. Vaeron’s pupils were dilated and dark with hunger. “Come back.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I don’t give a fuck. I need you.” His fingers threaded in my tangled hair and tugged me down. The kiss was a reckoning. A reclamation.
A promise that he was here and alive and breathing.
“I almost lost you,” I whispered, staring at the only male who had ever loved me with the ferocity of a hurricane.
“You’ll never be rid of me,” he crooned, the words a threat and a promise that heated my core.
I straightened, allowing him space to move. With pinched brows and gritted teeth, he managed to sit upright.
“Careful,” I warned, hands outstretched to catch him.
The blankets slid down, revealing the ugly wound where the scars and threads had once been. He peered down at it, his fingers brushing over the mangled flesh. “At least my father’s marks are gone.”
“How do you feel?” I asked.
“Like my horse trampled me.” He tried to raise his left arm, only to let out a hiss.
“The muscle is likely still healing. I’m not sure how deep Maelsar cut,” I said.
A tendril of white slipped out of him in response, coiling around my waist and dragging me closer. But it wasn’t a pure luminosity, not like mine or any other Angel’s. Instead, a gossamer of black wove through it.
Vaeron groaned, a sound both relieved and anguished. “My magic isn’t what it once was. But using it again…that is everything. Thank you.”
I cupped his cheek, nails scratching through his rough stubble. “Do you want me to fetch the healer?”
“Not yet. I want to simmer in this moment with you for a little longer. I still don’t believe it’s real.
That this isn’t some dream where you’re looking at me like you love me and would be devastated if death came for me.
” His words were all soft velvet and caressed my skin in a way that made our bond ache.
“If I look that way, it’s because I would be,” I admitted, my palms sliding over the hard planes of his torso.
“You’re my mate. I didn’t want you to be.
I was terrified of you from my very first vision.
But now…” His eyes searched mine, and I swallowed.
“But now, you’re my everything. I want to commit treason with you.
I want to rule with you. Because we’d make far better monarchs than those currently on the throne. ”
A wicked grin curved his mouth. “That’s my little fugitive. Only now, you’ve grown real teeth.”
“I’m ready to bite back,” I swore, lifting my chin. “I’m ready to be the storm.”
“You were always the storm, Sylaira,” he breathed, his magic tightening around me. And oh, how I’d missed that feeling too. “You were simply afraid of what that meant you would become. I don’t expect you to become a killer. I am your blade. You are my muse. And together? We rule.”
“Together, we rule,” I repeated, the words stronger and steadier in my throat. They were a solemn promise, a whisper of the future we’d build.
We kissed again as the wind fluttered the sheet over the window. A shiver wracked my frame.
“Oh thank fuck,” Maelsar said from behind me.
A growl reverberated in Vaeron’s chest. Reluctantly, he surrendered me, shooting a glare over my shoulder. “If it isn’t my would-be killer himself.”