37
Finn
My portal takes Soleil and I to the balcony off the Nighfall suite of rooms, overlooking the side of the mountain and the distant peaks and valleys beyond. I pause for a moment to check in with her, make sure she’s alright, that the portal didn’t disorient her too much.
Soleil seems… fine.
At least physically.
But her eyes tell a different story. The turbulent magick coming off her in waves tells a different story.
She is still running, that much is obvious.
Running from whatever waits for her back in the human realm.
Running from the decision she needs to make.
Running so she doesn’t have to face it.
And perhaps I’d be more likely to talk her out of it if all her running didn’t bring her straight into my arms.
Though the clock is ticking and we both know she won’t be able to run forever, it’s easy enough to ignore it as I settle her more securely into my arms and take off.
Soleil gasps, her grip on me gets even tighter, and the trust she places in me to hold her and keep her safe as we climb higher and higher towards the clouds is the most humbling thing I can imagine.
I’d keep her safe for the rest of our lives, if she’d let me.
I’d be right here for her, always right here, making sure she’d never be alone again.
If only that were enough.
We fly over the side of the mountain which houses the court, and then northward toward the wilder lands beyond.
The scenery here is stunning—stark, jagged peaks made softer by alpine meadows and a brilliant blue sky above.
There’s a chill in the air this time of year, and I tuck my witch’s cloak more securely around her to ward off the cold.
The rush of the wind around us makes conversation impossible until we reach the spot I have in mind.
A beautiful glen high in the mountains.
In the springtime it’s filled with wildflowers, but even now the grasses are still a vibrant green and dotted with late-season blooms. The spot is popular with leisure-seekers from the court looking for some peace and calm in nature, but I’m grateful to find it empty today as we make a soft landing in the middle of the meadow.
Soleil gets shakily to her feet, and I keep my hands braced on her waist as her wide eyes take it all in.
“This realm is so beautiful,” she whispers in awe, and a sharp pang lodges behind my breastbone. “Every new place I see is better than the last.”
“There’s more to explore,” I say quietly, deliberately ignoring the note of melancholy in her voice. The note of farewell. “And I’d be happy to show it to you.”
In the space of a few moments, her awe fades. Her eyes go big and round for a different reason—filled with panic now rather than wonder. Breath coming in uneven gasps, face paling, I mentally berate myself for ruining the moment.
“Hey,” I say, soothing a hand up and down her back. “Talk to me.”
“I…” she begins, voice quavering. “I don’t even… I don’t know where to start.”
I pull Soleil into my arms. “Take your time. I’m here as long as you need me to be.”
Tucked securely into my embrace, she gets a handle on her breathing and takes the time she needs to sort her thoughts enough to explain.
“The witch in the atrium…” she begins slowly. “She’s from the Crescent Coven. She came to give me a… warning, I guess.”
A low, dissatisfied rumble breaks in my chest. “She threatened you?”
“No! Nothing like that.”
“Then… what did she say?”
Soleil rests her forehead in the center of my chest. “The entire coven is talking about me. About how I ran away.”
“I imagine they’re worried about you.”
She snorts an inelegant laugh. “That’s not the word I would use. More like sharks scenting blood in the water.”
I’m not exactly sure what a shark is, but her meaning is clear enough.
“They want you to get in trouble?”
“Oh, I don’t know if it’s even that,” she says with a resigned sigh. “It’s more like they just love to have a juicy morsel of gossip to pick at, and I’m sure more than a few of them have also been scheming about how they can use my absence to their advantage.”
“What do you mean?”
“Anytime a witch falls, it makes room for another to rise. It’s constant at the coven hall.
They call us ‘sister witches’, make it seem like we’re just one big happy family, but that’s never been the case.
One mistake, one misstep, one tiny slip-up that pisses off Esme Hawthorn or puts you on the outs with the priestesses, and someone is always waiting to step in and dig the knife a little deeper.
Everyone is always just waiting for their chance to take your place. ”
I hum in sympathy. “I understand why you wouldn’t want to go back to that.”
Apparently it’s the wrong thing to say, because Soleil steps out of my embrace, paces a few meters away, and runs a hand through her tousled black curls.
“It’s not even that, though,” she says, and this time it’s like she’s talking more to herself than to me. “I do want to go back.”
That terrible, sharp pang pangs again, hard enough to make me feel nauseous, but I keep my anxieties to myself while she continues working things out in her own time.
“I think I could change things there. I think I could do good there. But it’s something that would take me a lifetime.
” She looks up at me with misery and conflict shining in her eyes.
“And I don’t know how to commit myself to that.
I don’t know how to shake off the doubt about whether it’s the right path for me. ”
I’m at a loss for words, so I do the only other thing I can think of.
I go to her.
Hands cupped around her cheeks, my forehead pressed to hers, I allow myself a few moments to simply share space and share breath with her. At least until she grips my forearms lightly and puts some space between us.
“Because I want this, too,” she says—voice steady, eyes blazing. “I want to see what we can be, Finn. I really do.”
Then have it. I want to tell her. Choose me. Choose us.
I swallow the words.
It’s still not my place to convince her.
I still have nothing to offer her other than myself, and I can’t believe I’m enough of an incentive for her to give up her Ascension.
“I never expected to find out I had a mate.” She wraps her arms around my waist, rests her cheek against my chest.
“I never did, either, sunshine.” Lips pressed to the top of her head, I give the bond between us a tug, just to remind her of the wonder of it.
A soft, distressed noise slips between her lips, and I hold her even closer, as if I could get close enough to take on all her pain and fear and uncertainty.
“I have to choose soon,” she says. “Like, really soon. I don’t think Esme’s patience will hold out much longer.”
“I know,” I tell her, because what else is there to say?
My witch holds our future in her hands, though the base, primal, unbearably selfish part of me still wants to beg her, plead with her, fall to my knees and stay there until I’ve convinced her to choose me.
A tear slips from the corner of Soleil’s eye, and I abandon those selfish thoughts completely.
Perhaps the best thing I can do is just this.
Be here for her, as long as she’ll have me.
I catch one finger under her chin and turn her face up toward mine.
Beautiful.
My mate is so painfully beautiful.
The most beautiful thing I’ve seen or ever will see.
“I’m sorry,” she rasps, and another tear falls.
I lean down and kiss it away, warm salt against my lips, a little hitch in her breath when I lean away again.
“Don’t be sorry, sunshine.”
She shakes her head. “But I’m being so selfish. If I could make a damn decision… if it wasn’t so hard… I… I…”
Her words fail, and I press my lips to her forehead. “You know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be, right?”
Soleil’s brow furrows, and I kiss it again.
“No matter what else happens, it’s true,” I say softly. “There’s nowhere in any of the thirteen realms I’d rather be than right here with you.”
I don’t know if she believes me. I don’t know if it’s enough.
But her hands grip more tightly, pull me to her, and when she speaks, it’s with the same painful longing I feel through every inch of me.
“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now, either, Finn.”
She kisses me. So soft, so gentle. A promise neither of us can make.
“I want you,” she says between kisses, more adamant this time. “I want you so much it hurts.”
Fire burns through my veins. Magick pulls taut between us.
Unable to help myself a moment longer, I dip my lips to hers.