Chapter 23
Ford
If my heart gave out after this little trip behind the curtain of Muli’s defenses, I would not be surprised in the slightest.
Stress, fear, anxiety—they were all old friends my body and mind had gotten used to years ago, allowing only the sharpest of spikes through. Or so I’d thought, before the past several weeks.
I could feel the Bond grumbling already, prepared to launch into a tirade about how if I’m worried about you or Esme, I have good reason to be and how its here to protect you and to be thankful.
All true.
It still took time to adjust to, especially now that everything I held dear in my life seemed at risk of slipping through my fingers.
The urge to push the fear away with apathy was strong, a habit I’d wrongly adopted early on when I thought my role in my family was to be steady—which to my young mind, meant being unaffected by everything.
Clearly, that had been a bad habit to adopt. It was the reason I’d pushed away the most precious gift ever bestowed upon me. I still couldn’t quite believe Esme hadn’t ever tried to kill me.
Now, though, it felt like fear was embedded into my very bones, I fought to keep myself from falling behind a wall of forced callousness.
Part of that fighting was pulling Soren aside after our debrief last night. He’d looked at me with a cautiously raised brow, clearly confused how there was possibly more to talk about.
We’d spent hours holed up in Soren and Bellamy’s room. Esme had shared what she’d seen. The details of it were new to me, but I’d known something had happened.
I could feel her down the Bond, nearly paralyzed with fear. That, combined with the interruption of our meeting had unlocked something very primal in my gut and I was seconds away from throwing her over my shoulder and running into the woods and far away from any threat.
The plan, we’d decided, was to keep proceeding as normal. The negotiations were nearly over, maybe one more discussion before it was time to bring a proposal back to the Emperor on Vir and the Queen further into Muli.
Obviously, we were going to be selective with what Bellamy shared with her father.
We were split down the middle in that regard. Bellamy was rather passionate about the fact that she didn’t think Muli planned to pull the rug out from under us right before we agreed to peace.
Even if they wanted to use subversive methods to learn how to pull out Marks themselves, she didn’t think they had the mind for full-scale invasion.
Soren was on the other side of things, deeply skeptical that this wasn’t some sort of grand plan to weaken our defenses and wipe the floor with us at the last minute.
Esme was somewhere in the middle, unable to make a decision when she could understand both sides of the coin. I tended to agree, though I was slightly more aligned with Soren.
Arthur was hopeful, though I imagined his desire to see his brother again was a heavy influence. The very thought made me want to scream. He’d been dealt such an unfair lot, separated from his twin by an entire world.
Freya was silent. When pressed, all she’d said was power can tempt even the strongest pacifist.
I was sure we’d all change our minds a few times, especially once we brought this back to Peter. The loose plan was to head back to camp in the next day or so.
There was rain expected in the afternoon and the clouds were already starting to darken. Caspian had invited us all to a dinner later that evening at yet another local tavern, promising it would be, in his words, casual and cozy. I doubted he was capable of either of those things.
While we could, Esme and I were stealing the chance to take Sky and Shadow on a ride. When she walked by where I was seated in the lobby of the inn and gave me a small smile, I damn near tripped over myself following her outside, trailed by Soren’s barking laugh.
When we’d spoken last night, I’d asked him plainly how he managed the Bond without turning into a possessive maniac.
Esme’s safety was as important to me as getting breath into my lungs, and I wasn’t sure how anyone didn’t turn into an oppressive tyrant trying to make sure your paranima didn’t get so much as a paper cut.
Soren had laughed, then sobered to explain that the Bond felt like it controlled you at times, but you had to train it to listen.
It was a tool, one meant to protect yourself and the person most dear to you.
When it freaked out, it would listen when you soothed it, so long as you had reasoning to do so.
I’d tried his advice later than night, when Esme dropped a bottle of something in the bathroom and I’d launched out of bed in a blind panic. A few words of reason and the Bond calmed, then rested entirely when Esme walked into the bedroom with a smile on her face.
I felt like I would be chasing that smile for the rest of my life.
I stopped in my tracks the second I rounded the corner from the inn and saw Esme. My heart tripped over itself, stopping for one long moment then kicking back up to twice its normal speed.
Esme was standing in the field with Sky and Shadow doting all over her, trying to pet them both with equal attention as they knocked their heads together to fight for her full affection.
Though Shadow likely knew that I was in close proximity, she kept preening towards Esme.
I would be glad for a day where every moment stopped feeling like an epiphany, a crashing realization of what old habits truly meant.
Shadow’s interest in Esme, for one. My sweet girl was not easy with affection, skittish with horses other than Sky and even more so with other people. For years, she’d rear back if anyone approached her other than me. Even Esme at the beginning.
That changed, and I was guessing here, around the same time as I’d been captured. Knowing what I knew now, that Shadow had walked next to Esme for miles as she dragged my lifeless form over the rough ground…I’d be slobbering her with kisses after that too.
It made sense, too, why Sky had always treated me like I was one wrong step from getting a hoof to the face. I didn’t blame him.
Esme laughed, tossing her head back as Shadow tried to undercut Sky and they both shoved their faces into Esme’s chest.
I suddenly felt like weeping.
I took a step towards her, throat tight with emotion. She turned at the sound of my boot crunching on the ground, her body locking in preparation for who was approaching.
Then she realized it was me. Her face broke into a bright smile, relief softening her features.
Seized by an overwhelming depth of emotion, I didn’t have any care for what I should or should not be doing. I knew enough to not shout every sappy thought I was feeling at her, but I couldn’t quite get my body to comply.
Esme’s smile didn’t drop, just mellowed into a pleasant—if not slightly confused—expression as I walked up to her and kept going until we were chest to chest.
My hands came to her face, fingers brushing away her hair before curling around the back of her head.
It struck me—not for the first time—how precious she was. Both to me and life itself.
And to have her look at me with an openness in her expression, after everything I’d put her through, only made that thought strike harder.
I stroked one thumb over her cheek and the corner of her mouth jumped, as if pulled into a smile by my touch.
I lowered my chin slowly, giving her a chance to back away. When she didn’t, I dropped one, soft kiss on her lips.
I hadn’t wanted our first kiss to be about a lie, though that was how the cards fell. It had been overwhelmed by a great deal of unrestrained passion on my end, and if I thought too hard about how easily Esme had risen to meet that intensity, it took my mind in a wayward direction.
While the fervor was certainly the loudest, behind it all, there was a deep, pressing desire to soothe the anger and the pain and the resentment with tenderness. To give Esme—and myself—something soft and comfortable.
It was why I allowed myself only the barest brush of lips, a physical manifestation of the way her uninhibited smile had made me feel.
When I pulled back, Esme’s eyes had turned to honey.
“What was that for? Is this something we’re doing now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes. And I don’t need a reason,” I said, lightly teasing. “But that was because you smiled at me.”
The most adorable little crinkle formed between her brows. “And that’s special?”
I nodded, stroking her cheek again just to see that little jump of muscle. “We have a habit of scowling at each other.”
Esme snorted a laugh. “I appreciate that you made that mutual.” This time it was her turn to each up and pass her fingers lightly down my face, right over the scar. “Though it was never a bad look on you. Made the whole big grumbly man thing really hit.”
“Come on,” I said through a laugh, jerking my chin at Sky’s lingering form behind her. “I think Sky is a little jealous. Let’s get going before he knocks me on the dirt again.”
Esme had one foot in the saddle when turned over her shoulder. “You said that before. Does he have a habit of knocking you over?”
“He was just protecting you. At least it wasn’t a hoof to the chest.”
“You, my sweet boy, are the best thing in the world,” Esme said, nuzzling her head into Sky’s neck. He snorted happily, his leering stare softening.
He didn’t even grumble when I took a step towards them while Esme swung up onto his back. I checked her saddle, though I knew it was going to be perfect, then patted the back of her leg before jumping onto Shadow’s back.
“What?” I asked, when I realized Esme was looking down at her leg.
She jerked up, caught in the act. A fierce blush was high on her cheeks.
“Oh no,” I tsked, cutting off whatever dismissive thing she was about to say. “I want to hear what caused that blush.”
“It’s just,” she swallowed, then restarted, “I don’t think you’ve ever touched my leg before. Not like that, anyway.”
Several lurid thoughts slammed into me from all sides.