Chapter 38
Soren stood in the kitchen of her father’s home, breathing it all in. The smell of wood and parchment, clay and sand, filled her nostrils. She was elated to be back, though she had to admit it was slightly surreal to see Rook in a place that was so close to her heart.
Enara had decided to stay with Laraline and Alondra for a while after they had broken the news of Baztien’s death. Soren was still coming to terms with it and wanted to be there for her but hadn’t wanted to argue when Enara had packed up her things, gave Soren a teary-eyed hug, and then hopped onto Ellie’s back, trotting back toward town.
The old man had stayed true to his word and had taken care of Ellie, Obsidian, and Enara’s riding companion over the last two months and had been happy to trade Ellie back for the war horse she had been riding in exchange for his lost canoe.
“This one gave me quite a shock,” he’d said, giving Obie a fond pat. “Never had an issue, almost as if he were waiting for something. Then, about a week ago, he just vanished! I searched high and low for him, but his tracks stopped mid-stride. It was the darnedest thing.”
Soren and Enara had shared conspiratory smiles, not wanting to spread the news about a flying horse.
“Well, thank you for taking care of them both,” Enara had said, tracing her hand down Ellie’s strong neck.
“It was my pleasure. This one, in particular, is such a sweet girl.”
“She is, isn’t she?” Enara had responded.
They had bid the man goodbye, promising to visit again if they were in the area, and had taken Ellie home. Soren knew Baz had been smiling down on them, watching over their journey.
In the short time they had been away, Baz’s mothers, along with the other townsfolk, had rebuilt the main strip in town and had been working their way outward. Luckily for Laraline and Alondra, that meant their house had been one of the first to have been mended. There had not been much left, but somehow, Baz’s room had remained largely untouched by the flames. The townspeople had stopped the fire before it had spread all the way through their home.
Her heart broke for Enara, and for herself, and as she looked at Rook, she couldn’t help but feel guilty that the man she loved had survived when Enara’s had not.
“You okay?” Rook asked, his soft tenor breaking through her mind spiral.
“Yeah,” she said, picking at her fingernails. “Just feels weird to be here again.” She shifted back and forth on her feet, avoiding his eyes.
She had spent plenty of time with Rook alone but, for some reason, having him in this house—her house—seemed more intimate. She suddenly felt even more vulnerable as his glacier gaze slipped over her. Her skin felt hot and tight against her clothes, the leather vest seeming to cinch a few inches closer to her chest.
He held out a hand to her, and the warmth of it fought off the last of the autumn chill. Winter was coming, and the yard was filled with leaves of all shades—orange, red, and yellow. They had crunched and crackled as they’d made their way inside after their long journey.
Soren shook off the thought as Rook pulled her into his chest and nuzzled his face into her hair.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, pressing a kiss in the soft place just under her jaw.
“Like I want to crawl into bed and not come out for the foreseeable future,” she answered honestly.
“I think I could arrange that for you.” His voice hummed against her neck as his fingers undid the laces on her vest, his breath whispering across the shell of her ear, causing her to giggle.
“That tickles,” she said.
“Good,” he replied, his voice rumbling low in his chest as their lips met.
“Rook?” Soren asked against his mouth.
“Yes, little bird?” he responded between kisses, pushing the vest off her shoulders and letting it clatter to the floor.
“I hate you.”
She could feel the smile that formed on his lips and pressed her body closer to him.
“I know,” he replied. His skin tingled as the mating bond lit up all of his senses, urging him forward.
“Rook?” she asked again, her face flushed with desire.
“Yes?” he replied. The word was honey, sticky and sweet, seeping into her skin, warming her from the inside out.
“Make me forget,” she replied, and he did.
She gasped as he lifted her into his arms. Then she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and deepened the kiss. His tongue explored her mouth, tasting of sweet citrus from the orange he’d had earlier.
Her hands fisted in his hair, and she moaned against his mouth, his hardness pressing into her through the fabric of his trousers. He growled as the friction sent waves of pleasure to his groin and turned to sit in the wingback chair, Soren planted firmly in his lap.
She ground against him, their mouths devouring each other’s, only pausing for a moment for Rook to shrug his tunic off his shoulders.
Soren reached down, fumbling with the button on his trousers, but he stilled her hands.
“Patience, little bird.” His eyes glinted lustfully in the firelight. He had stoked the embers while she had brought water in from the well, and the flames danced playfully at her back.
“I want you—now,” she ordered, and he obliged.
“Anything for you, little bird.” He lifted her from his lap, leaving her to stand on unsteady feet. Then he stood, towering over her, and removed her shirt before kneeling in front of her to slide her trousers down. He tossed the pants aside and pressed his tongue to her core, his thumb circling her clit as her hands found his hair again. His fingers grasped her backside as he devoured her, and she panted as his tongue dipped in and out of her.
“Rook … please,” was all she could manage.
“Oh, not yet, little bird,” he admonished before reaching a hand up to her mouth. “Suck,” he growled.
She grasped his hand in hers and sucked hard, coating his fingers in her saliva.
“Good girl,” he praised as she released his wrist. He inserted one finger, then a second, curling them in the way she favored.
“Maker, Rook,” she moaned breathlessly. “I’m going to?—”
“Ah, ah, ah,” Rook said, stopping his ministrations. “Not yet, dirty bird. Today, I will take your pleasure with mine.”
He stood quickly, and before she could complain, his lips were crashing against hers once more as he lifted her then slowly laid her down on the rug before the fire. His hands traced the lines of her body, and she writhed under his touch. She was wet and wanting, and her core ached so badly she could not stand it anymore.
“Rook,” she ground out, “you’re killing me.”
He loosed a laugh that promised he was about to and lined up with her entrance. He impaled her with one swift thrust, and she cried out.
“Yes, little bird, scream for me,” he groaned before taking her lips once more. His forearms rested on either side of her head, the veins straining against his skin as he ground into her. Her moans turned to whimpers as his pace quickened, her breaths coming in shallow pants.
“Rook, I’m so close. Don’t stop.” Her words came out broken, as the pieces of her orgasm came together. It was the first time they had coupled since their mating bond had clicked into place, and the feeling of it was overwhelming. Everything was hotter, heavier. Rook’s skin buzzed against hers, every touch and thrust shooting jolts of electricity up her spine.
Her back arched, and she cried out as he moved his hips in just the right way to make her toes tingle and her breath catch, the final piece of her climax falling into place. She detonated, and he swore as her inner walls tightened around him.
“Fuck, little bird, that’s it. Come for me.”
Her calves ached as pleasure pulsed through her. Euphoria washed over her, wave after wave, and she cried out once more as he spilled into her.
They stayed like that for a moment, chests heaving, kissing each other lazily as the fire warmed their skin. Then Rook slid out of her and used his tunic to clean them both off before grabbing a woven blanket from the couch and stretching out beside her.
Soren turned over, pressing her cheek to his chest and wrapping her free arm up over his shoulders. “What happens now?” she asked quietly. So much had occurred since they’d met. So many secrets and lies, and healing and heartbreak, that she wasn’t sure where their trauma ended and they began.
His response was so simple, and it was exactly what she needed to hear. What everyone needed to hear.
“We live.”
* * *
It had beenthree months since they had returned from the war, and Soren had checked in on Enara nearly every day. Meanwhile, Rook had returned to Thorncrest to tie up some loose ends. He had gifted the manor to Meena and Evelyn, explaining how it was their home just as much as it was his. They had refused, of course. So, ultimately, Thorncrest had been sold to the highest bidder. The final tie connecting Rook to his father was severed.
Rook used some of the funds to purchase a home for Meena and Evelyn, refusing to take no for an answer. He had taken Soren to Eldrin to see the tree cottage he had purchased for the girls.
Eldrin had fared surprisingly well against the fires. Many of the large trees had been charred, but their core and roots were strong and stood firm. Meena and Evelyn looked so at home there, and they felt safe being up in the canopy. They wouldn’t let Soren leave until she promised to visit at least once a month so they could enjoy a nice dinner together. Her heart lifted a little when she was reminded she would see them in a few days’ time.
Soren pulled her fur jacket tight around her shoulders and readied herself to brave the cool winter morning when a knock sounded at her door.
Her stomach dropped, and her mouth went dry. Rook and Enara never knocked, and the last time she’d heard that sound was when she’d found out about her father’s death.
She inhaled slowly, holding her breath in her lungs, and turned the knob. Her anxiety dissipated when she opened the door to find Everett standing there with a megawatt smile.
“Everett!” she exclaimed, pulling him in for a hug. “Come in, come in. It’s freezing.” Snow swirled around him on the front step, and some of it trailed inside, like little white shadows following his boots.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything. You look like you were about to head out.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I was just about to meet Luscinia and Enara for lunch. The new tavern was finally finished today, and we promised the owner we would show.”
“The Celestial who healed Rook?” he asked.
“Yeah, she visits monthly when her grace allows. It’s been very cathartic, actually. She’s been telling me all about my mom.” Her eyes misted. “Anyway,” she continued, shaking away the tears, “what brings you all the way to Draestel? Are Jai and Adaryn okay?”
“Oh, yeah!” he exclaimed. His energy was infectious, reminding her of Baztien. “Jai sent me. He has news he wanted me to deliver personally.”
Soren chuckled nervously. “Should I be scared?” Her stomach twisted as her mind reeled, searching for a possible reason for the impromptu visit.
“No, no, everything is fine. Here.” He handed her a letter.
She broke the royal seal and read it aloud.
My dear friend Soren,
I hope this letter finds you well. Adaryn and I have missed you these last three months. Patrivah is rebuilding, and our walls are almost complete. The people are still adjusting to having Adaryn as their queen consort but, overall, the reception has been a positive one.
We wanted to formally invite you, Rook, Enara, and Baztien’s mothers to the coronation ceremony in one month’s time.
Each province had been allowed to vote for their new leader under the new Enthean Democratic Decree, and Jai had received ninety-three percent of the votes from his people. Under the new law, the king was allowed to take whoever he wanted for a wife, which meant him and Adaryn could officially take their rightful places as king and queen of Patrivah.
A formal invite will be sent closer to the date, but I like to think a personal invitation from the king is more official, anyway. On a more serious note, we finished combing the battlefields about a week ago, and we discovered Baztien’s sword.
Soren’s breath caught, her chest tightening as flashbacks from the war battered against her skull. Blood. So much blood. Baztien lying in the dirt, lifeless.
She pushed past the intrusive thoughts, blinked back the tears that were tugging at the edges of her eyes, and continued.
I don’t know if I ever told you or Enara this, but he finally picked a name for it. “Unyielding.” He named it for Enara and the strength she showed through all her adversity. Said she was as unbreakable as the blade itself. He would have wanted her to have it. Please, pass it along to her.
Everett had removed the sheathed blade from his back and laid it out on Soren’s dining table. “I kept it safe, I promise,” he said softly before she continued reading.
The text was blurry as the tears toppled over, the words shifting and moving like water.
The final note we have for you is happier news. Adaryn is expecting a child. Patrivah will have an heir. My heart nearly burst when her courses stopped coming. She is due in six months time, and we had rather hoped that you would be her godmother. Everett, of course, is already the godfather, but we can discuss the details further at the coronation.
We have already decided that if it is a girl, we could name her Indira Jai, after my mother and I, but if we were to have a son, he would be named Baztien Grey.
Your friend,
Jaideep Ashwood, King of Patrivah
* * *
Rook fingeredthe spine of the oldest book in his collection, releasing a relieved breath that all of them had made it safely to Vreburn. He stood before them, hoping they would bring him comfort, for today was a big day. Today, he would meet his mother.
He had debated if he even wanted to meet her. What if she rejected him? She had already mourned him, so he thought showing up on her doorstep might be considered cruel.
He turned his gaze downward as Soren’s arms locked around his waist, her cheek pressed tightly against his back.
“Whatever happens today, I’m here, okay?” she promised.
“I know,” he replied, turning to face her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her softly. “I just don’t want to disrupt her life. I never had a mother; I can survive without one.”
Soren cupped his cheek, her eyes misting. “But you don’t have to.” She hugged him again, tighter this time, hoping to squeeze some confidence into him. “We don’t need to just survive anymore.”
She could feel him nod before he pressed a kiss to her head. He let her hold him until Enara returned from saddling the horses.
“You ready?” she asked.
“I don’t really have a choice, now do I?” he quipped, shrugging on his winter cloak.
“No, but I thought I would give you the illusion that you have a choice in the matter,” Enara poked.
He gave her a pointed look before heading out the door.
“Take care of him for me,” Soren said, grasping Enara’s hand.
“Only if he behaves,” she replied, smiling.
They said their goodbyes, and then Rook and Enara rode in silence the whole way to town. If there was one thing he appreciated about his half-sister, it was that she never felt the need to fill space with unnecessary interaction.
They might not be what he would call close, but they had an understanding for one another that no one else had. They were both stubborn, so opening up to each other was an elongated process. Though, he had no doubt they would get used to the idea that they were siblings over time.
As they crossed the threshold into town, Rook’s stomach tied itself into knots. Then they were dismounting their horses, giving them each a solid pat before Enara led the way to the front door of their mother’s new house.
Rook winced as his half-sister knocked on the lacquered wood. Then he clenched his fists nervously as they waited for Mrs. Montgrove to answer. It felt like an age had passed when the thin woman slid the wooden lock aside, embracing Enara before letting them in.
Enara had seen her mother a handful of times, working to reconcile everything that had happened with her father, and had informed her about Rook. From his understanding, she had fainted upon receiving the information and needed some time to process it. That had been a few weeks ago, and Enara had made the plan to introduce them shortly after he had returned from Thorncrest.
Rook’s posture was stiff as he entered his mother’s home, unsure of how he was supposed to act. What did one say when they showed up in their birth mother’s home after twenty-five years of life?
“Mom,” Enara started, “this is Rook. Rook, this is Beatrice Montgrove, our mother.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Rook said formally, holding out a hand for her to shake.
The breath was nearly knocked out of him when Beatrice rushed forward and embraced him in a rib-shattering hug. Before he knew it, his mother was sobbing against his chest while Enara gave him a sympathetic look.
Beatrice pulled away, wiping her face. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I told myself I would keep it together, but there has been so much loss … I just … I am glad you’re here.”
He took in the fine lines of her face, noting the similarities between them. Though the majority of his bone structure had come from his father, he could see where her genes had softened his hard exterior.
“You look so much like your grandmother,” Beatrice said, gesturing for him and Enara to join her at the dining table.
“So I’ve been told,” he replied. He wasn’t trying to be short; he just had no idea how to navigate this conversation.
“Enara tells me you grew up in Thorncrest?” she asked.
“Yes, I lived there my whole life,” he replied, resting his arms on the table.
“Well, I hope you know that I am happy that you have relocated to Vreburn. It will be nice to have both my children close,” she said softly, as though she were testing out the words.
Something inside him fractured. Hearing her acknowledge he was her son opened a dam on feelings he hadn’t realized he had hidden away. All of a sudden, his inner child screamed at him to run around the table and embrace this woman, whom he barely knew. To lie on the couch with his head in her lap as she told him stories of faraway places. To call on her in the middle of the night when the shadows seemed to be closing in on him. To spend the day baking and ruining their dinner by gorging on apple pie.
He pictured himself coming home from school, his white hair mussed from playing with the other boys, and her pulling him in for a hug. She would ask him how his day had been, and they would laugh and play, and all would be right in the world.
“It’s okay,” Beatrice said, reaching across the table to take his hand. To his own surprise, he let her. It was oddly comforting. “You don’t have to say anything. Neither of you do,” she continued, reaching her other hand over to grasp Enara’s.
“I want you both to know how sorry I am for everything. You two went through things that no child should have to endure.” She squeezed their hands tighter, tears spilling down her cheeks as she continued, “My silence did more damage than your father ever could, Enara, and I only hope that, in time, you will be able to forgive me. And Rook, I know I cannot make up for the years we have lost, but I want you to know that you are always welcome here.”
“You already know I forgive you, Mom,” Enara said, leaning her head on her mother’s shoulder.
Beatrice released their hands to press her palms to Enara’s cheeks. “I wish someday to be as strong as you are, sweetheart.”
Rook remained silent, worried if he spoke, all his emotions would come rushing forth. He was not ready to shed tears in front of anyone but Soren.
They spoke a short while longer, sharing the few happy stories they had from their childhoods, before getting up to leave.
“I hope you’ll come back soon,” Beatrice said as they donned their winter gear.
“I’m sure we will,” Rook answered. His simple response seemed to be exactly what she needed to hear, and his eyes misted.
She pulled him in for one last hug, and this time, he let himself relax into her arms. She smelled of rosemary and chamomile tea, and it put him at ease.
He pulled away gently, looking from his mother to Enara, and couldn’t help the bit of joy that peeked out from behind his black heart. He had a family.