Chapter 21 #2
A heavy sigh left him, and his chest fell with the exhale.
“On the day of the trial, the charges against the man I was meant to kill were listed to the crowd. He—” Neirin shook his head once.
“He had a perversion toward young girls. Children. The accusations were brought forward by more than one witness.”
Something within my chest constricted, and I drew my knees up and hugged them.
“He was a bad man.” There was no note of uncertainty in Neirin’s tone, no need to be understood, nor a desire for forgiveness or justification for his actions, only a deep, solidified certainty.
When I remained quiet, he continued. “I came before the execution platform, pointed metal rod in hand. When I think of that day, I can remember my palms sweating and the sickening way the man’s smile curled at his lips.
My monster writhed; it took all I had to hold him back.
” Neirin’s eyes went back to the boy. “Resisting magic is …” He sighed and let the sentence fall away.
Lowering his gaze, Neirin plucked a strand of hay from his trousers and let it fall to the stable floor.
He swallowed hard. “Of all the forms of execution, impalement is the most horrific. Set aside only for those such as that man with an inclination for—” Neirin shook his head.
There was no need to repeat the words. “When I finally went to stand before him, my monster settled. I felt a release from all of the thoughts in my mind. Clarity in the moment, on ending the life of the evil man before me. When I plunged the rod into his chest, blood seeped.” He held his hands out and turned them palms up, as if he could still see the effects of the action staining his hands.
“In that moment, nothing and no one else existed. I experienced complete freedom from my monster, from my thoughts.”
I tucked my chin between my knees. Nine years old. Gods.
“Don’t,” Neirin said, catching my movement. He ran a hand through my hair and to the back of my neck, gently coaxing me to look at him. “Don’t pity me.”
“Then why?” I asked. “Why tell me this if you don’t wish me to pity you?”
A muscle flinched at his jaw. “Because I’ve told no one else. Because I can speak to you in a way I’ve never been able to with another. My soul calls for yours, trusts it in a way I can’t begin to comprehend.” He broke my gaze and turned his eyes back to the boy. “And because he is …”
“He is like you?”
A faint laugh, and Neirin’s thumb stroked beneath my ear casually. “No, not like me. Calix and I, we are different kinds of monsters.” The smile that crooked his lips was sad, the creases at his forehead telling. “Before today, I’d not seen it but”—his jaw flexed—“we are similar in ways, too.”
My heart twisted, and even as I knew everything about the guard to be dangerous, edged with risk, I could not make myself pull away.
“This bonding.” Neirin looked back at me and, with his hand still at the back of my neck, gently brought me closer to him and rested his forehead to mine.
“I don’t understand it. But you do. You seem to know more about me than I know about myself.
” A glint of mischief danced in his eyes.
“Though you withhold the information from me, I cannot deny this feeling.” He sucked in a breath. “Do you feel it too? The draw?”
“It is magic,” I said, more to remind myself than to inform him. “These feelings aren’t real.”
Neirin dropped his gaze, then, with a hesitant glance up at me through his lashes, he unwrapped the bindings at my wrist, revealing the heavy black markings of the bonding tattoo.
“Magic has always taken great humor in meddling with my life.” Though he smiled softly, the slick sadness behind the expression was tangible.
As he touched his forehead to mine again, the hair that fell from the top of his head brushed my brow. I fought to control the betrayal of my heart, beating with a rapid thrum beneath my breasts.
“Whatever this is, it pulls me to you,” he said. “I don’t understand it. Yet maybe it’s not meant to be understood.”
My heart hitched, and I fought to keep my resolve even as his breath on my cheek and the brush of his nose pulled at something deep inside. Forcing down the urge to press my lips to his, to taste him, to give in to the yearning, I took a steadying breath.
“What you speak of is fate,” I said. “I don’t believe in fate. There’s always a choice.”
Neirin withdrew, though he kept his arm over my shoulder. The gesture, its familiar comfort out of place, altered the mood. Giving in to the longing for security and closeness, I leaned into him and rested my head on his shoulder.
“What of the cobbler? Is he your choice or your brother’s?” Neirin’s tone was level; the question held no bitterness.
I scoffed. “It’s not that simple.”
He nuzzled into my hair and spoke against my ear. “Is it not?”
Firming my jaw, I cast my eyes to the boy, still deep in his unusual slumber, and lowered my voice. “I won’t be the reason my brother is on the streets again.”
“Again?” Sorrow laced the question.
Instead of delving into my past, I sighed, letting my breath fog in the air. “I must marry for the sake of Aureus and our mentor. I owe them that much.”
With his right hand, Neirin took my chin between his thumb and forefinger and raised my gaze to his.
“Though admittedly this is not the most opportune time to ask …” He laughed faintly, and despite myself I chuckled too.
Nothing about the situations we found ourselves in together was ever opportune.
“What do you wish to ask me?”
“You will think me too forward,” he warned, a lightness in his tone.
“Likely,” I quipped. “Ask anyway.”
His breath left his parted lips on a shudder, and any semblance of banter disappeared. “If you believe you need to marry for the sake of your family, let me court you.”
Swallowing, I hesitated. The scent of smoke clung to his cloak, and as I cupped his face in my palm, I could feel the anxious flexing of his jaw as he awaited my response.
How have we come to this?
“Evera.” My name on his lips drew me back from my thoughts as he took my hand in his and brought it between us. “If you do not feel this, then tell me; why do you look at me like you do?” He spread his fingers, and I mimicked the action reflexively until our palms mirrored each other.
My breath caught, and I closed my eyes. “You don’t even know me.
” The wavering of my voice betrayed my emotion.
The man was wanted for the death of the King.
And now he bore the responsibility of one of the Queen’s messengers.
Trouble followed him. To be drawn into it for the sake of my racing heart—
“Then give me a chance to get to know you.” His words were husky and thick, and it took every ounce of restraint I had not to lean in and press my mouth to his.
As the moment hung between us, Neirin’s breath quickened. His body was tight, strung, restrained. And gods, I reveled in the rush of power it gave me to hold his body under my control.
I am so tired of overthinking everything.
“If,” I said, “I told you to kiss me—”
“Then I would steal your breath and kiss you until you moan against my lips.” His response came without hesitation, thick with need. Brushing his nose along mine, he brought his lips close, so that the faintest movement would bring us together.
I lowered my head just enough to put more space between us and deny the kiss. Heat rushed through my veins, and a coiling need bloomed within me. When I spoke, my breaths came short and rapid. “And if I told you to take me here? Now?”
He growled, and something inside of me tightened.
Wetting my lips, I tried to still the racing of my heart.
The tension was building, and as much as I wanted to lose myself in his touch, his kiss, and whatever would follow, I knew that giving in to impulse would only bring us back to the same place we found ourselves before.
“And what if,” I said, “I told you to earn my name, instead of stealing it as you did my mare?”
Neirin sighed, and the rising intensity between us shifted. Though my heart still raced, my question had altered the direction things were going. I sensed the change, and when he rested his forehead against mine, I knew he felt it too.
“At the festival, you were something I chose for myself.” I drew a stabilizing breath and spoke from my heart, even as the words came out rambling and without a clear path.
“I did not give you my name because I needed to be someone else that night, to remove myself from this life and all that weighs on me. What I wanted, what I needed from you, was anonymity. I made that clear to you, and it was not your place to take that from me. If you truly want to explore whatever this is,”—I swallowed my uncertainties—“then you must earn my name.”
A stillness hung in the space between our quickened hearts. Finally, Neirin raised his head and pressed a faint kiss to my forehead. “Then I will earn your name.”