Chapter 22
It was hard not to appreciate Rook’s body as he stood before her, covered in the blood of her would-be killer. He looked every bit the weapon Adriel wanted him to be. Corvus had trained him well.
When she didn’t respond to his quip, his look of satisfaction shifted. His brows pinched together, and he sheathed his weapon. “Are you all right, little bird?” he asked, searching her gold-rimmed eyes.
Her mouth had gone dry, and she swallowed thickly, nodding, taking in the rest of him. She had never doubted his capabilities as a fighter and had watched in awe when he had fought General Corvus back in Thorncrest, but this was different. She could practically feel the danger ebbing off of him, like little bolts of lightning whipping and crackling against her skin. She knew it was an absolutely ridiculous moment to be reminded of her deep attraction to him, but she couldn’t help it. She was thankful then for the rush of pain that rolled through her nerves, washing away all her lustful thoughts.
“Soren.”
She looked up when he said her name, as he rarely used it. It was then she realized he had closed the distance between them and was cupping her face.
“I need you to talk to me.”
Her eyes flicked back and forth, taking in their surroundings. It was then she noticed the bodies. Two kestrels and three more of Adriel’s soldiers were laid out before the captives, an arrow through each of their skulls. She met his gaze then, her eyes wandering to the tip of her father’s bow peeking out from behind his back before widening. He killed them all.
The townspeople had gotten to their feet but made no sudden movements. They seemed unsure if they should thank Rook or run from him in the hopes of avoiding his wrath.
Without looking at them, he growled, “Leave. All of you.” It was not a request.
The crowd shuffled away quickly, leaving them alone in the large square.
She licked her lips, tasting the tang of blood, and then pushed through the lump in her throat to croak out, “I think I’m okay.”
He released her face and brushed a knuckle down her cheek. “You’ve lost a lot of blood.” His tone was strained. “I need to get you somewhere safe.”
Before she could stubbornly reject his offer, he bent and lifted her into his arms, taking care not to brush the large gash on her leg. She could feel the warmth radiating off his chest and allowed herself to lean into him.
Even covered in blood, he smelled like the snow-covered trees that surrounded Thorncrest Manor. She nuzzled in closer, inhaling his scent as her mind swam from the loss of blood. She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift as her body went limp in his arms.
* * *
Soren sat up,shielding her eyes from the midday sun. She blinked, allowing her pupils to adjust, and used the momentary blindness to take stock of her body. She rolled her shoulder and could no longer feel the pain that had just radiated there. She dared to look down at her leg, worried she would see a flap of skin hanging limply from bone. To her surprise, the muscle was intact.
She bent her knee and stretched it forward a few times, deeming the appendage fit to participate in a marathon.
“You’ll still need rest.” Rook’s voice drifted over her like a soft blanket. He stood before her in a field of wildflowers, wearing his finest black tunic. His eyes matched the forget-me-nots that she pressed between her fingertips.
She was no longer in a blouse and trousers, but in a white cotton dress that fell to her knees, the soles of her feet pink and bare. Her brown eyes were as rich as the soil between her toes, and her blue-stained hair swayed gently between her shoulder blades.
“I thought I told you to stay out of my head,” she said, picking at her somehow perfect nail beds.
“I thought you might forgive the intrusion, considering I saved your life,” he replied, stepping toward her.
She held her breath as he approached, not daring to move, like a bronze sculpture she had once seen her father uncover.
“I thought you could enjoy a moment of peace before we return to the havoc my father unleashed,” he said in his soft tenor. He brushed her cheek again, and she allowed herself to lean into his hand.
“What happened?” She remembered fighting Corvus’s sergeant, but everything else had gone hazy.
“You passed out from blood loss. I brought you to a fabric shop.”
“You left,” Soren said flatly, her anger returning. She would not treat him like a hero when he had ditched them all at the first sign of real danger.
“You were well guarded,” was his clipped response.
“The whole point was to have cover from higher ground!” Soren lifted her hands in exasperation.
“I did not want to leave you.”
His admission surprised her but did not excuse his actions. She opened her mouth to say as much, but he continued, cutting her off before she could begin to berate him.
“I saw some of my father’s men attacking a group of women outside the square—a mother and two daughters.” He paused, unsure of how to word the next part eloquently. “Anyway, I dispatched them,” he said, clearing his throat.
Soren just looked at him, her mouth opening and closing like a beached fish.
“I came back for you as soon as I could,” he said, his tone softer now. “I should never have left.” He shook his head. There was a pain behind his eyes that she couldn’t quite register.
Soren looked at their surroundings. It was so peaceful here, calm. She understood then what he was doing. This dreamscape was a kindness.
“I’m dying, aren’t I?” Soren asked quietly, her brown eyes searching his.
The question caught Rook off guard, her blunt words nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Your wounds are deep,” he replied cryptically, avoiding her gaze. “I stitched your calf to the best of my abilities with the store’s supplies, but I foolishly used the last of the healing vials on the woman’s youngest child.” He ran a hand through his hair, looking to the ground beneath his feet. “I will never forgive myself for the pain I have caused you.”
Soren knew he was referring to more than her current dire situation. She could see the battle he fought within himself to express his meaning.
“I never wanted to cause you harm. I only wanted to escape Adriel. I was selfish and should have never kept the truth of your father from you.”
Soren’s throat tightened like the hangman’s noose Jai had just barely avoided, and she looked at him through misty eyes.
She could feel the life slipping from her, like an autumn leaf detaching itself from its home tree, only to drift away on a soft current to places unknown.
She stepped forward, taking in the lines of Rook’s face. He inhaled sharply as she reached up to run a hand along the exposed section of collarbone peeking out from the neckline of his buttoned tunic. The skin was warm beneath her fingertips, and she longed to kiss it like she had so many nights ago. Their life together at the manor had been endlessly infuriating and terrifying, but somehow, it was simultaneously some of the best moments in her life.
What they had was volatile and dangerous, a cruel fate and a wicked trick, but it was theirs.
Soren often wondered if the Maker above had enjoyed playing with his creation’s emotions. Placing slivers of hope into their little black hearts to bring them back to life, only to cut away every ounce of happiness with the precision of a healer’s blade.
“Little bird,” Rook whispered softly, shoving away her negative thoughts with a steady hand. He reached up and clasped her palm in his, and the back of her hand was pressed against his rapidly beating heart. Soren knew this was still a dream, but it felt so real. He felt so real.
Her eyes drifted from his hand to the hollow of his throat, to the sharp line of his jaw, landing in the cold winter of his eyes. It was in this moment that she knew she loved him. She loved every battered, bruised, and broken part of the dark soul that he had kept hidden from the world. She saw the truth of him behind his perfect porcelain mask. She saw the boy who had longed for his father’s acceptance, the teenager who had lived through unimaginable horrors, and the man who fought every day to cage his demons.
She saw a light in him that his father and Corvus had tried so hard to snuff out. The single beat of a new star shining through the black of night. She saw the kind soul and warm heart that had, for many years, been buried in a shroud of ice. Every moment, every touch, every quiet whisper curled up together in their library had slowly melted away his frozen walls.
She had hated him, had wanted to kill him even, to smother him while he slept to escape her bounds and save her friends. He had once been the bane of her existence yet had somehow become her reason for living.
The grief from her father’s death had turned her into a hollowed-out version of her previous self. The loss had snuffed out all joy and color from her life, leaving her to drown in an ocean of gray.
Day after day, night after night, she had gone through the motions to get by. She had shut out her friends and had become selfish and uncaring. She had closed herself off from feeling for other people to protect her own heart. The more she cared, the more she had to lose, and she did not think she would survive another loss like the one of losing her father. Baz and Enara had been so patient with her and had tried everything to get the old Soren back, but they didn’t understand that the old Soren had died along with her father.
Rook had challenged her in a way they could not. Her words and actions had pushed her friends away while they seemed to only make him gravitate closer. In the beginning, she had been trying to escape her circumstances, but by the end, she had known she was only trying to escape her true feelings for the man she was supposed to consider the enemy.
She could feel his soft breath caress her cheek, followed by the faint metallic tang of blood mixing with the soft pines of his own scent. She looked into his sapphire eyes, letting herself get lost one last time in the fractured shards of crystal that lay behind his long lashes. She willed herself to be brave and use these last moments to show him where her heart truly belonged.
She pressed her lips to his in the sweetest of kisses. It was a kiss that said, “I wish we had more time.” It was a kiss of love and longing, and hope and heartbreak. It was goodbye.
Before their mouths parted, Soren whispered against his lips. She spoke so softly that the words would have been carried away before Rook had even heard them, had there been a breeze. Three words that would forever change them both.
“I forgive you.”