Chapter 44 Ariana #2
“Sometimes.” I watched him as he drifted through the room before exploring the small outdoor balcony, which dangerously had no railing.
It was strange, having someone else in a place that had been singly my own for so long.
I felt as if I stood on a ledge, fearing what he would find, while hoping his interest would remain held for a while.
Erik paced over to the edge of the balcony, looking towards the moon. “The best way to feel safe is for you not to go to the Sidhe,” he said casually. Of course, he could not easily let it go.
Sighing, I joined him outside. “This allows me an opportunity to learn something of the Sidhe, maybe find out if what we think is even true.”
“It is,” he stated, refusing to allow room for any other possibility. The stern opposition he had to Clause’s invitation did not align with his goals of freeing the Lysians. He probably was afraid of losing an ally in my people’s leadership.
I viewed him. “Then this meeting may be fruitful. I know you are concerned for your sister, and I told you that the Bavadrins will help. If anything were to happen to me, then the Sidhe threat would be seen as very real. Whoever the next leader is to be, they will join forces with you. You will have the support of the Bavadrin lands. I can promise you this.” I tried to ease his worries.
Erik’s goals would still be pursued, even if I was no longer around.
A look of disgust passed over his features, and he looked away from me once more. “Do you think me so vile as to not care at all what happens to you?” The coldness in his tone surprised me.
I, too, peered out at the sky. It seemed so quiet out there, yet it was a peace that would not last. I felt it—an ominous presence that did not belong. Something loomed over my people and me.
“There is no shame in worrying about those you rule over and your family,” I stated after a moment. Erik had his goals, and there was no problem with that.
He released a low, cruel laugh and pivoted, pacing several steps into the tree house.
“You are correct in assuming that that’s something I care for.
However, you are wrong in thinking that it is the only thing that has me uncertain about your trip.
I do not simply care about what happens to you for the Lysians’ sake.
” He turned those sapphire eyes back towards me.
“I do not wish for harm to fall to you. Specifically you. The thought of it alone is enough to make me wish I had the power to destroy the Sidhe without your involvement. You have done nothing to warrant taking such a risk.”
Warmth swelled in my chest, and I tore my eyes from his. “I thought we were not even capable of a friendship. That was what you said the other night.” I had to force myself to turn back to meet his gaze, feeling so incredibly irrational for that single interaction to have upset me the way it had.
“The look on your face when I said some of those things… I regret my delivery. But what could I have done? You had just wandered towards the border all alone on the white moon of all nights. And then you, what, wished us to simply exchange pleasantries? I wanted nothing more. Yet I had my duty to protect the perimeter, and you now know that the border may be threatened by Lysians who are not under my control. The risk you were putting yourself in was reckless, and not to mention my self-control was...” His voice briefly trailed off.
“I needed you gone. So, I said what I needed to get you as far away as quickly as possible.”
My heart as it skipped a beat. I tried not to think of how he likely heard it do that. “Where exactly does this leave us, Erik?”
He was a Lysian King, and I was the Bavadrin Leader Superior. For the first time, we were both free, standing on our own two feet, our actions no one’s but our own. What he said before placed invisible walls between us, though the way he spoke now, it was as if the only thing between us was air.
He looked around playfully. “It leaves us in this here tree house, I suppose.”
He pulled back, turning the conversation light, but I did not want to go down that path. I wished to continue the uncomfortable one, where we could show one another our truths.
“You know.” My tongue flicking out to wet my lips, which had gone dry under his piercing gaze.
His sapphire eyes followed the movement, dipping to my mouth before returning to meet my stare.
“I care about you, too.” My voice was soft but steady, a quiet admission that felt like pushing open a door—a door I feared would be slammed shut in my face. Again.
Over the days I’d spent among the Lysians, something shifted within me, between us. The Lysian I once feared, who threatened my entire world, had become something else entirely. I did not know when it happened, or perhaps I was afraid to see the truth and thus blinded myself to it.
But like a sapling drawn irresistibly to the sun, I found myself drawn to Erik. His presence magnetic.
“I know,” he said quietly, his voice stripped of its playfulness, leaving only sincerity.
I leveled my gaze, meeting his. “How do you know?” It felt as though I stood on the edge of a cliff. If I jumped, would there be anything to catch me?
He angled his head, a trace of a smile lifting at the corners of his mouth. “You mean, besides when you tended my wounds in that Bavadrin prison?”
I nodded, though that moment hadn’t meant anything specific—just a helping someone unjustly injured.
Erik took a step closer, and suddenly the air between us became thinner, harder to pull into my lungs.
His presence was overwhelming, as though he had summoned every ounce of his power into this moment.
“When you cooked that favorite meal of yours,” he said softly, “there was a light in your eyes when you watched me take that first bite. I’ll never forget it.
It is a fond memory.” His smile deepened, though his tone remained serious.
“When you escaped, you did so with care—not harming any Lysians. And you released me when you had every right to imprison me. Even to kill me.” Another step.
“That wasn’t even the first time you spared my life. ”
My pulse quickened, betraying me.
“And,” he continued, his voice dipping lower, “there’s the way your heartbeat races every time I near you.”
My heart stuttered, as if responding to his words directly. “I thought it was just fear.”
His mouth twitched, holding back a smile. “It’s not fear.”
He stepped closer again, and the space between us nearly disappeared. The raw power coming from him was palpable. He was an imposing force—his heat, his strength, his sheer authority pressing in on me.
His presence didn’t terrify me like it once had; it consumed me.
His gaze was a physical thing, searing over my skin, while his scent, rich and heady, wrapped around me, drowning out the world.
The sight of him was breathtaking. He held my senses firmly captive, and I wanted him to take two more. To touch him. Taste him.
I rooted myself in place, refusing to back away, refusing to create space.
Erik’s hand moved with a deliberate slowness, his fingers grazing my hip. The touch was light, almost tentative, testing—offering me a chance to retreat. His hand slid upward, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, every brush of his fingers igniting something deep within me.
When I didn’t pull away, he closed in.
I stared straight ahead, unable to look anywhere else. It was as though my body had forgotten how to move, how to breathe. My gaze fixed on the rise and fall of his chest, his broad, muscular frame a wall before me.
Erik’s hand drifted upward, gliding over my arm, before settling at my neck. His thumb pressed softly under my chin, tilting my face upward, and I found myself locked in his dark eyes. His gaze blazed, unnerving, yet impossibly warm.
I was so hopelessly drawn to him, every part of him.
Spirit, help me.
It was as though he sensed my thoughts. The energy surrounding him shifted again, slowing further, becoming heavier, more intimate. My breathing faltered under the weight of it.
When I still didn’t move, still didn’t run, he leaned in. Unhurriedly, carefully, his head dipped, and he stopped just shy of my lips. He didn’t close the gap—waiting, silently asking for permission.
Drawn like a moth to a flame, I rose onto my toes, closing that final sliver of space between us.
My lips brushed against his, soft and searching. He kissed me. It started tenderly as if he was afraid he might hurt me.
But I was not made of glass.
My lips parted for him, inviting him in.
His tongue swept through, exploring and deliciously thorough.
The taste of him only made me hunger for more as my tongue met his stroke for stroke.
His tenderness transformed in response. Feather-light touches gave way to something deeper, hungrier, rawer.
With every heartbeat, the kiss grew in intensity, a wildfire spreading between us.
I matched his fervor, meeting him with the same untamed need that clawed at my chest.
His lips trailed down my jaw, my throat. My breath hitched as his teeth scraped along my neck before he found my mouth once more.
It was as if he wanted to devour me, and I wanted to be devoured.
Our tongues collided and I nearly lost my mind with the divine taste of him. Erik pulled me against him.
The more I tasted, the more I craved. My senses narrowed, sharpened to a single point. I could see nothing but him, feel nothing but the heat of his body, smell nothing but the enticing scent of his skin.
His breath became mine, or perhaps mine became his—I couldn’t tell.
There was no Erik. No me. Only us, tangled in this fiery, overwhelming moment.
He consumed my doubts and fears, swallowing them whole until nothing was left.
Every worry, every thought, every bit of hesitation dissolved.
The Lysian King holding me became my entire world.
My fingers tangled in his hair, deepening the kiss. The low, guttural growl that escaped his throat sent a pulse coursing through me.
His hands tightened, strong and unyielding. The pressure of his touch was possessive. There was no escape—not that I wanted one.
I lost myself in him, and it was the most exquisite kind of oblivion.
Until he let me go.
Erik pulled away, breaking the kiss. His touch lingered, reluctant, before finally releasing me. He retreated a step, and it felt like a chasm opened between us. Dark eyes scanned my face, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret.
He would find none.
“I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to do this with the Sidhe,” he said, his voice low, carrying an edge of frustration.
I swallowed, steadying my ragged breath before replying, “Trying to seduce me into compliance?”
A wry chuckle escaped him, though it lacked any real humor. “If only it were that easy.”
“My decision is final. I am going, Erik.”
His jaw clenched, hands fists at his sides. It was probably difficult for him to not have complete control. He hated my decision.
He shook his head and glanced to the field outside. “It’s late. We should go.” His voice was barely more than a whisper, strained and distant. When he glanced back at me, the fire in his eyes shone. That hunger, that longing—it still burned, unquenched and undeniable.
For a moment, I couldn’t find my voice. All I could do was nod.
Erik turned, walked to the balcony, and jumped from the tree house. My heart nearly stopped. But then again, he was Lysian and landed on his feet with effortless grace. I raced over and peered over the ledge as he looked up at me.
“I’ll catch you,” he offered with a daring smile. Gone was the moment we just shared as if completely evaporated.
It was an effort to make my jaw work to compose a response.
“No way,” I answered, moving to take the ladder instead.
He chuckled softly.
When I finally joined him at the tree’s base, neither of us mentioned what just occurred. We walked back to the leader superior compound, parting ways to our separate rooms as if nothing had happened between us.
But while I lay in bed, I could still feel the lingering touch of his lips on mine and how my body bent around his.
It was real. It happened.
It was beautiful and unexpected, though I did not know what it meant moving forward. I only knew that I had one more day at home before leaving for the Sidhe lands. I planned for what was to come while the Lysians stood idly by, waiting to learn what the outcome of the trip would be.
When life stilled, in those moments of waiting for a meeting to start or while lying in bed, worries entered my mind for the unknown.
What would the Sidhe be like? Edda warned me that Clause would want to observe my conjuring.
She advised me not to let him see it easily, that he would try and test me somehow, and when I did finally conjure to use my hands as a crutch, so he would see the false limitations of what I could do.
She also advised me to cover my skin so that he could not easily touch me, though if he wished to touch me, I was to allow it.
He would not harm me. That was the safety the letter he had sent offered me.
Edda shared that though Clause stated I could bring along whomever I wished, only those who could conjure would be able to stay with me.
She knew so much through her sight, and I was glad to have her guidance even though our relationship strained.
Even so, the fact that she would be beside me during the meeting with the Sidhe king offered a great deal of comfort.
I continued to feel a sense of safety in her presence.
The notions of what was to come swirled in my mind.
Concerns for the future kept me from settling.
The only other thought strong enough to push those concerns aside was the memory of that moment with Erik in the tree house.
The way it was to be in his arms, to regard them as a safe place.
Strangely, he felt so familiar, though we had never embraced like that before.
In those still moments in the dark, I was torn between two unknowns: the mind and the heart. My mind spun webs of fears of the Sidhe while my heart dared to hope for a different future.