Chapter 21 #3
Cairis made his exit to return to the Kingsguard, as many would be making their way back from prayers to prepare for the dinner hour.
Before I departed, he squeezed me tightly and wished me luck, unsure if he’d see me again.
I tugged his hulking shoulders downward to lower his ear to me and whispered, “Get eyes on Nori, make sure she’s okay.
” It was a plea, and we both knew it. He looked me in the eye and nodded, then portaled back to the castle.
Gia exited shortly after without a goodbye, knowing we’d meet again in her room later on.
I looked over my shoulder to see Trace and Saryn in what seemed to be a quiet argument. “Her power isn’t infinite,” I heard Trace warn him as if he somehow knew the cost.
“Not your concern,” Saryn replied, as Trace turned his back on him to make his exit.
Trace and I were alone in the alleyway as Varro stayed back to discuss more with Saryn inside the safehouse.
As he conjured his misty window to portal through, he looked back at me and said, “I pray to the Gods you are not too late. And I pray the cost is not too high,” before disappearing.
Just as I had planned, Varro was the last to exit the safehouse.
I wasn’t about to travel even farther from him, so far our unsealed bond may not even feel one another’s existence, without speaking with him.
We walked a ways through rows of charred houses and buildings until we reached a patch of dense, tropical forest. Under the leafy canopy, I breathed a sigh of relief, its shade cooling my skin.
It was the first time I had heard the buzzing and hissing of insects since arriving in the desert kingdom.
The king’s solarium was absent of sounds that indicated abundant life, even in its tiniest form.
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the forests back home: different plant life, different shades of green, soil not sand.
I breathed in the scent, but it was so vastly different from home.
Tears threatened to break through the barrier of my lashes as I recalled memories of that place.
A place I may someday struggle to remember.
Somewhere I might never return. A short life, minuscule in the shadow of time.
Large, strong arms wrapped around me from behind, enveloping me protectively.
“Moirai,” he whispered against my ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
I exhaled at the sound of it and turned to clasp his face between my hands, desperate to feel those lips against mine.
I pressed him to me; his hands moved fervently across my body in response.
It had been so long—too long—since I’d felt his touch.
He tilted my head with his rough, calloused hands, kissing and biting all along my neck, angling my pliant body to his will.
Before long, I realized he wasn’t just passionate, he was frantic. Desperate. He was trying to mark me with his mouth. He inhaled my scent. He ran his fingers through my hair and across my soft flesh like he may never touch it again. He let out a breathy plea:
“Please, Cress. Please let our bond protect you.”
Without even waiting for my answer, he dropped to his knees before me, resting his head against my navel and holding me tightly against him.
He was begging me to seal the bond because of his own fear.
His fear of losing me. Whether to the mission or the Drift.
He wouldn’t look up at me, instead, he continued to stare down at the forest floor, shaking his head against my stomach in frustration.
“If only for protection, please.”
His words practically broke me. With his mental shields down, his mind was racing with thoughts.
Among them, the clarity that he would not force me to see him as his mate romantically, so long as I sealed the bond to protect me from harm.
His plea was not sexual in nature, though the act required making love.
He wanted the bond sealed for every other reason—putting me first, above all.
To anchor me from the Drift. To meld our minds and thoughts.
To formally tether the bond, no matter the distance.
He couldn’t bear sending me away without any of those assurances.
His palpable fear alarmed me. Was I being foolish to not give in?
I felt his hands grasp my legs harder, and when I grabbed his face and tilted it up to look into his eyes, I saw within them an ocean, a storm swirling in endless circles of desperation.
I released him and lowered to my knees as well, taking Varro’s hands in mine.
“His loyalty was born of desire,” he said, nudging his chin back in the direction of the safehouse. “Mine is born of devotion.”
His need to separate himself from Trace and what we had was unnecessary, and it broke something in me to know he still felt the need to do so. Trace had left me when Varro laid down his life. They were not the same. This was not the same. In any way, shape, or form.
“I love you.” His words were exasperated but clear. His gaze locked onto mine when he spoke, searing his words into my heart. Silence descended between us.
“I love you, too, and because I love you, I will not let fear be the reason either of us completes the bond.” I paused, trying to speak the words with a quivered lip. “Fear will not win; let love conquer.”
A tear of surrender rolled down his cheek as I fought back my own.