Chapter 12
Twelve
Hanna
Kaelan seemed himself that night. That is to say, he was a little smug to have me without sharing, and distinctly delighted too.
Thorne and Dare left us alone in the room where we’d tried to all sleep the night before, with little success, though I attributed that to four bodies in a relatively narrow bed, especially when my men were so big.
They claimed they’d rather bunk down the hall.
It had nothing to do with me snoring.
He lay down beside me without crowding, as if he were giving me space even as his presence wrapped around me.
The mattress dipped as his arm slid across my waist, slow and testing.
I turned onto my side, fitting against him like it was muscle memory, my forehead brushing his collarbone, his breath stuttering once before evening out.
His hand traced the line of my spine, reminding me he was there, that I was wanted, that I was safe. In the dark, our legs tangled, my knee nudging his thigh. He pressed a kiss into my hair, lingering, and I smiled against his chest, already drifting, held exactly where I wanted to be.
I felt it before Kaelan woke.
The air in our cramped cabin went tight, like the moment before lightning strikes. His magic disturbed the darkness, ice crystals forming on the timbers above our bed. And underneath my own awareness, deeper and colder, the Shadow Weaver stirred.
Your would-be king is falling apart. Just like your kingdom will, without my help.
I pushed her voice away and reached for Kaelan.
He woke wrong.
Not with a gasp or a jolt, but with absolute rigidity. Every muscle locked. His breathing stopped before resuming in careful, measured pulls.
“Kaelan?” I kept my voice soft.
He stared at the darkness above us, his jaw so tight I could see the muscle jump.
I wanted to touch him. Wanted to smooth the ice from his hair, press my hand to his chest and feel his heart racing beneath my palm. But I hesitated. “Talk to me.”
“I’m fine.”
The lie sat between us like a blade.
“You’re not fine. You were having a nightmare.”
“It was nothing.” His voice was final. Arrogant bastard. “Go back to sleep.”
“Kaelan—”
“Hanna.” He finally looked at me, and his eyes were ice. “I said I’m fine.”
The words cut deeper than shouting would have. This was Kaelan at his worst, calm, controlled, distant. He was already back to studying the ceiling like it was a far more interesting companion than me.
Fucking asshole. We should be past this by now. I’d promised I would tell them about any changes with the goddess, but he apparently didn’t need to show me the same respect.
“You’re lying to me.” I grabbed his jaw and turned his face to mine so he couldn’t pull away. He always felt free to grab my chin and turn my face to his. “Should I lie to you about the goddess in my head?”
His eyes narrowed. He didn’t like that one bit. “You have a problem that requires my help. A goddess in your mind that threatens you.”
He put his hand up to my wrist and gently removed my hand.
“And you have a king on the throne determined to see us all entombed in ice, so you shouldn’t be keeping secrets, either,” I reminded him.
“It was just a nightmare.” He rolled over, giving me his back. “Hardly even anything special, given what I saw at the front.”
I stared at his broad shoulders in exasperation.
“Kae, why won’t you let me be there for you the same ways you want to be there for me?”
“It’s the middle of the night. Let’s argue over breakfast.”
I blew out a breath. “While I’m usually drawn to procrastination…let’s argue now.”
He didn’t answer.
“Are you pretending to be asleep?” I demanded, and when he still didn’t answer, I got up and grabbed my cloak.
Dare had wanted me to stay with Kaelan because he needed me, but Kaelan didn’t seem to realize that he did.
“I cannot believe you would face down an army but you won’t talk to me. Coward.” I hurled at him as I headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” he grouched, sitting up.
But I closed the door between us anyway and paused with it just barely open to fire my parting shot. “If you want to suffer alone, I won’t stop you.”
The ship creaked around us, timbers groaning as we cut through dark water.
“Hanna—”
“No. You don’t get to shut me out and then ask me to stay. Figure out which one you want.” Then I slammed the door shut for punctuation.
The corridor was dark and narrow, barely wide enough for one person. I pressed my hand against the wall, feeling the ship’s movement, trying to ground myself in something solid.
“He’s afraid,” the Shadow Weaver said. “He knows deep down you four can’t beat the king.”
“Shut up.”
“He’s pushing you away before he has to watch you die.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to silence her. Gods, how I missed her silence the night before while I’d perched in one of their laps or another, twining my hand through their hair and kissing the corners of their mouths.
But she was right. Kaelan had shut me out.
There was a tall, dark shadow against the rail, and my heart leapt when the figure resolved into Dare, staring out at the dark water. He turned when he heard my footsteps, and something in his expression shifted.
“Princess,” he said, and the old nickname was gentle now. “What happened?”
“Nothing.”
“You don’t trust this one either.” The goddess sounded amused. “But you can trust me, little queen. Your fate and mine are twined together.”
“Try again.”
It took me a second to register his words because I’d been distracted by the damned voice in my mind. I moved to stand beside him, pulling my cloak tighter against the wind. “Kaelan had a nightmare. He won’t talk about it.”
“He’s not like us. He’s terrible at talking.”
“I know. But as much practice as I have—I know I talk a lot—I despise talking about my feelings. And I’m still trying.” The ship seemed to be bucking under my feet, or maybe that was the world itself; my fingers curled painfully tight against the ship’s railing.
Before I could change my mind, I confessed. “I can feel her pushing at my thoughts, twisting my feelings, trying to make me doubt everything. And when Kaelan shuts down like that, when he won’t let me in, it just makes it worse.”
“Makes what worse?”
My hands curled around the railing. “The feeling we’re going to lose this war. Lose each other.”
“Hanna.” He sounded so gentle.
“And the worst part is, I don’t know if that fear is mine or hers. I don’t know where I end and she begins because she is in my head.”
The admission broke something open. Tears burned my eyes, hot against the cold air.
Dare’s hand covered mine on the railing. “The goddess wouldn’t be afraid of losing us. She’d be afraid of losing power.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that the fear was proof of my strength instead of proof of my weakness.
“I feel so unsafe in my own skin,” I whispered. “Like I can’t trust my own thoughts. And when Kaelan shuts me out…does he think I’m untrustworthy? Because of the goddess?”
“He’s scared of himself. Not you.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
“And he’s an idiot.” Dare’s thumb brushed across my knuckles. “We need you. He needs you. Even if he can’t admit it.”
I looked up at him, this man who’d married me to protect me, who’d chosen me without hesitation, who saw me clearly even when I couldn’t see myself.
Who had put Kaelan first instead of claiming his time and who talked about feelings in a kingdom that had tried to grind them out. “You always seem so brave, Dare.”
“Is that so? I’m afraid.” His hand moved from mine to my face, fingers gentle against my jaw. “I’m terrified I’ll fail you. But I’m not afraid of you. Of us.”
I leaned into his touch, letting myself be grounded by him.
“Dare,” I started, but I didn’t know how to finish.
He kissed me.
His hand cradled my face like I was something precious, and I felt myself anchored in the warmth of his mouth, the solid presence of his body, the way he held me.
I kissed him back, my hands finding his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath my palms.
The kiss deepened, not urgent but fuller—his mouth warm and patient, his other hand settling at my waist, anchoring me there. I tasted him, felt the quiet hum between us build, and for a moment there was no goddess, no fear, no slipping sense of time. Just this. Just us.
Our foreheads rested together, breaths mingling, his nose brushing mine as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to move away.
His hand stayed at my waist, thumb tracing a small, absent arc there, and the tenderness in his touch made my throat tighten more than the kiss had. “You’re still you. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” I whispered. “And if I do, you’ll remind me.”
His lips curled, his eyes warm, and I wanted to know what he would say next.
But a sound behind us made us both turn.
Kaelan stood at the entrance to the deck, his expression unreadable in the darkness. My stomach dropped with a complicated tangle of guilt and defiance and hurt.
For a moment, no one moved.
Then Kaelan said, “I’m sorry.”
The words were so quiet I almost missed them.
Dare squeezed my waist, then released me. I ran my hand down his chest as I turned to Kaelan, because Kaelan needed me now.
Kaelan’s posture was drawn and perfect, just like his face. He hesitated as if he were gathering himself for a confession. When I leaned into his side, he wrapped his arm around me as if he gathered strength from my presence.
“I had a nightmare about my father.” Kaelan’s other hand curled into a fist. “The nightmare—it felt real. Too real. He was there, in my head, and I don’t know if it was just my fear, or if he’s actually—”
He couldn’t finish.
“The mental link,” I said.
“He’s never been able to use it without being at my side. That’s what I always thought. What I was told.” Kaelan’s voice was raw. “But what if that was a lie? What if he can walk into my mind from anywhere?”
Dare leaned back against the railing. “You think Edric’s in your head right now?”