Chapter 20 #3
As Leita combed and caressed, those worries that followed her found their way into the chamber.
They wormed through her heart, dulling her joy in simply being with Attalus.
The worries told her to hang on tight, to clutch him to her, for she didn’t know how long this would last. They whispered to keep him safe, keep him hidden.
She could guard him here, in this room, for the rest of their lives.
Looking down upon his head, proud and regal with his double sets of horns, his brow smooth with relaxation, Leita realized what it was she considered.
Her instinct was to protect him at all costs. If locking him away was what it took to never lose him, so be it.
While Leita might’ve thought she possessed a stronger sense of right and wrong, when it came to Attalus, her morals were secondary at best.
She might’ve also been forgiven, even vindicated in doing so. Fae valued azai above all else.
But in that new, soft, vulnerable place growing inside her, she hesitated.
She didn’t want to be his jailer nor his master.
She wanted Attalus, his smiles and his joy, his teasing and yes, even his flirting.
She wanted his sadness and his rages, too.
But would she truly have all of him if she barred the doors and padded his existence?
Likely not.
“Leita…?”
The sound of her name made her realize she’d been holding his head, unmoving, for a little too long. Head balanced on the rim of the tub, Attalus peered up at her, his smile upside down.
“I think the water’s cool enough for you. Let me comb your hair.”
Leita swayed forward. Oh, she wanted that. Wanted that comfort. But first…
She bent to kiss his surprised mouth.
Thalia had been right, all those weeks ago. Leita had to choose to be happy, and it was a choice to be made over and over, again and again, throughout their days together.
For that, though, Leita would have to make an even harder choice—she would have to trust him.
“Promise me?” she murmured against his lips. “Promise you’ll never lie to me again?”
“Lie to you?” he echoed.
“The venom.”
Stepping around the tub, she knelt at its side, needing to see him when he answered.
Leaning his elbow on the lip, Attalus rested the side of his head against his fist. He gave her a sheepish look when he said, “I didn’t want to worry you, doe, that’s all. I didn’t realize it would come back with a vengeance.”
Leita nodded, accepting that. But still, “It could’ve killed you.”
“Yes.” Attalus reached with his other hand, warm and supple from the water, to cup her cheek. “I’m sorry, Leita.”
“I am, too. I…shouldn’t have left without you.” Swallowing back her worries, she said, “We’re here now, though. Together. If this is to work, I need you to promise me, no more lies. Even if I won’t like the truth.”
“I can do that. I’ll swear to it, if that will ease your worry.”
He meant a pact. Leita’s fears and desires seized on it, and for a moment, she reveled in the idea. But, with another breath, she told him, “I’ll trust you.”
A corner of his mouth kicked up in a rakish grin. “You won’t regret it, agae. I swear it.”
While not strictly binding as they would be in a pact, his words nevertheless coated her festering worries in relief. It was the balm she needed.
Standing, Leita dipped a finger in to test the water before stripping down to her skin.
She stood there naked, and Attalus looked his fill.
“It’s right you should stand before the sea and stars,” he told her, helping her step into the tub, “for only they could rival your beauty.”
On another night, she might’ve rebuffed or ignored his flattery. Tonight, though, Leita held it against her heart. She trusted he said what he felt, that he thought her beautiful.
His gentle hands guided her down into the tub and then back onto his chest. The warm water slid sensuously around her limbs, and Leita sighed happily, melting into him.
Between kisses to her cheeks and shoulders, Attalus tenderly washed her.
His hands cleansed and massaged, working out knots and tangles.
He unplaited and then wetted her hair, administering the same creams and oils.
Leita liked that they would share a scent.
He used both the comb and his claws to work her long hair into a soft, shining fall down her back.
His hands found her breasts, but the touch wasn’t as seductive as she expected. He plumped and kneaded, thumbing her nipples, but before she could truly begin to moan, he slid down her chest to continue the massage.
Her desire hovered just below burning in a pleasant, syrupy kind of daze. Warm and satisfied, she’d no arguments when he finally stood up in the bath with her cradled in his arms. Water sluiced off them as he stepped out.
They dried each other with thick bathsheets before he carried her to the bed. Naked, they crawled in together, slipping beneath the sheets.
It was a large bed, far too large for just Leita, but when Attalus stretched out his wings, he claimed it for himself. The sight of him there, beside her, in her bed, settled Leita in a way that was nearly intoxicating.
“Will you stay with me awhile?” he whispered, his voice already slurred with drowsiness.
“Of course, azore,” she promised, kissing his chin.
As she traced his regal face with her fingertips, his eyes slid closed. He soon fell into a deep sleep, a grin still on his lips.