31. Chapter Thirty-One Rhea
Chapter Thirty-One: Rhea
“I have to admit, Princess, I didn’t think you had it in you to try to escape. And was that a fucking fox? Have you been hiding that beast up there with you this whole time?” He hauls me around to face him.
“Let me go!” I shout, trying again to rip out of his clutches. But his hand is firmly wrapped around my arm.
“Back up to your room,” he growls before pushing me towards the stairs.
“No!” I yell, my boots scraping on the stone as I try to push myself away from him.
“We don’t have time for this. Back. Upstairs,” he grits out before he hoists me over his shoulder, my shriek reverberating off the walls.
My magic starts to writhe inside of me, pushing against the barrier of my skin like it will somehow be useful . But I’m not sure how having the ability to heal can help me get free, so I ignore the sensation in favor of trying to break free of this guard. He pins my arms to my sides as he climbs the stairs, ignoring my attempts to wriggle free from his tight hold.
A noise sounds above us, like that of an opening door, and then I hear a familiar voice. “Xander, are you down there?” Flynn shouts. I nearly answer in return before I stop myself at the last moment.
“Yeah, it’s me,” the guard holding me shouts back, the sound a bit breathless before we round the final curve of the staircase and come to the platform that opens out onto the bridge. “I caught the princess trying to escape.” Flynn’s boots step into my line of sight, and I trail my eyes up his body until I meet his rounded gaze. Shock contorts his features as he lowers his drawn sword.
“Sun—” He clears his throat, stopping himself from using his nickname for me. “Trying to escape?” he asks, his eyes leaving mine to meet the guard’s.
Xander’s black hair tickles my arm as he nods his head and answers, “She had a fox with her as well, but it was able to escape through the door. We’ll have to alert the others to be on the lookout.”
I grit my teeth together, my body jerking side to side as I try to free myself. He snorts, my strength nothing compared to his, as he squeezes me more tightly to halt my movements. I hiss through my teeth in frustration, my body deflating as I all but give up my struggle.
“She’s more fiery than I would have given her credit for,” Xander mutters, turning somewhat so that I can see Flynn again.
I watch as his eyes fixate on Xander’s hold on me, the hand on his sword flexing tightly. “Are you taking her to the king?” Flynn questions, his voice laced with a dark challenge as he shifts subtly so that he’s blocking the door.
Xander tenses faintly—a motion felt more than seen—as he shifts his body again so that he’s facing Flynn, my own view of him now blocked. “No,” he says slowly, “I’m taking her back upstairs.” A strained silence clouds the landing, my own frustration at being held like this adding to the tension.
“I’ll inform the others about the fox,” Flynn states. Xander moves his head in what I assume is a nod and then turns, beginning to climb the stairs back up to my prison.
I try catching Flynn’s gaze, but he is already stepping out of the door and onto the bridge, not even glancing back. With each step, a bitter awareness starts to prickle in my veins that not only did I fail, but I also lost Bella in the process. My chest squeezes in on itself, and my breathing becomes more labored. Panic floods my body like water crashing through a broken dam. I was so close, but I failed. I failed. I don’t know whether to scream or cry or just reach for that dark chasm within my chest and beg it to consume me again. I have no doubt that when the king finds out about my attempt, my life here will become even worse. If anyone can figure out a way to torture me further, it’s him.
When we reach the achingly familiar arched door, the guard opens it and simply sets me down. Not speaking another word, the door closes, and I’m once again alone here. Truly alone this time. Even that tiny bit of freedom I experienced, the few seconds where I just gazed upon everything from the bridge, makes being back inside so much worse. It looks so small in here, so cold and empty and awful .
Slowly, I lift the satchel off of me and set it down near the stairs. Pulling on the boots, the slight swelling in my feet makes it even harder for me to get them off. Nighttime smothers the sunset, leaving the tower in pure darkness. Not wanting to go to bed alone for the first time in years, I grab the flame gem from the library and bring it out into the living area.
Taking a seat on the couch, I hug my knees to my chest and close my eyes. I create a new box in my mind, one that will allow me to just not feel . I imagine my hands grasping and pushing and yanking each feeling into its new prison, quickly sliding a lid over top and locking it. My mind then goes cold—that dark iciness that had started to diminish within me over these past few months now back in full force. Perhaps caring about what happens to me is pointless. The king can do whatever he wants, and I won’t fight it. Resisting my fate all these years has done nothing but leave me feeling more empty, more broken, more alone. So maybe I should resign myself to becoming whatever it is he wants to mold me into. As I start to shove the last of my determination to be someone outside of this jail into another mental box, I see a small flame flickering in my mind: the last remnant of hope that is left within me. I walk up to it, lifting an imaginary booted foot to officially snuff it out, when there is a quick knock on my door before it opens.
Flynn doesn’t walk in, but he stares at me, his chest heaving like he’s just run the entire way up the tower. I startle at the sight of him. The hair around his temples is curled with sweat, and red splatters the front of his golden armor as his hands brace either side of the doorframe.
“Can I come in?” he asks, but his voice— It doesn’t sound right. He doesn’t sound like the man I’ve gotten to know. Still, I nod, and he walks through the door. I’m about to speak—to say what, I’m not sure—but then a knot forms in my throat at the sight of the giant white bundle of fur following at his heels.
“Bella!” I yell out, voice breaking as I bolt off the couch and fall to my knees when she meets me halfway. “I thought I lost you,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head. She nuzzles her head into my chest as I hug her tightly, unrelenting relief relaxing that strain on my heart. “The moon may have the stars, but at least I have you,” I recite with a quiet voice.
Flynn stands near the door, his armor and sword already off and leaning against the wall. My eyes catch the red again—blood, I realize—splashed across the front. I study his body, looking for any signs of injury, but because he is wearing all black, it’s not obvious if there is one.
The silence stretches between us, so tinged with anger and disappointment and fear that I swear I can taste its bitterness.
“You should give us some space,” I whisper to Bella, placing one more kiss on her head before watching her make her way to Flynn. She rubs her head on his hand, begging for a pet—which he hesitantly gives—before she climbs the stairs to the loft. Flynn’s hands brace on his hips as tension brackets his shoulders. His head hangs low for a moment more before he slowly lifts his eyes to meet my gaze.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to escape? I told you I wanted to help you,” he implores, his voice rising faintly. Words dry up in my mouth as we gawk at each other, both weighed down by everything left unsaid. “Were you just going to leave without saying anything else to me?” There’s a slight break in his voice at the end, hardly there but noticeable to me all the same.
“And why would I tell you, Flynn?” I counter, hating myself for doing this—for pushing him away. “Why would I tell you when you are sworn to not help me? When your very blood has magic running in it that would make you stop me?”
“Rhea, I told you that you didn’t have to worry about the blood oath—”
“Yes, but you’ve never given me a reason why!” When he doesn’t respond, I huff out a breath and shake my head, turning to gaze outside to the balcony. Chewing on my lip, I let my eyes close. “Why did you start visiting me? Why risk getting caught by the king?” It’s a question I never wanted to give voice to, a worry I never wanted to let him see.
“What?” The sound of his steps echoes throughout the tower as he comes closer. I swallow down the pain radiating in my throat, the guilt and regret and every other negative emotion that has been locked inside of me for some time.
“I’ve been told that a man would only visit me for one reason,” I murmur, remembering King Dolian’s words. “Is that what you were hoping for? The chance to bed the princess of the tower?”
My head swings to look at him as I finish the sentence, wanting to see his reaction. Waiting to see the truth of those words reflected before me. Hoping it will be easier to leave Flynn behind if he admits that I was nothing more than a conquest. But that isn’t what happens.
His head jerks back like I’ve physically slapped him, disgust curling his lip as he snaps, “Are you seriously asking me that?” His body practically vibrates with frustration and anger. He’s angry with me. Panic sits heavy on my chest, constricting my breath. “Rhea, do you really think I’d spend time getting to know you—”
“I don’t know you, Flynn. Not really,” I argue, taking a step towards him, my head tilting up to hold his gaze. “We’ve only spent small pockets of time together here , secluded in a tower, where you can pretend to be whatever you want and I won’t be any wiser.” My arms fold over my chest, hands squeezing tightly into fists. “What are your motives? What are you really here for? What makes you keep coming back—”
“Because I fucking care about you!” he shouts, throwing his arms out to the side. “Gods, is it so impossible for you to believe that?”
“Yes!” I yell back, my chest heaving as my insecurities burn through me.
“Why?” he asks, stepping forward again until we are barely an arm’s length apart, his face tense with confusion.
“Because the only people who ever cared about me are dead.” The words come out in a shockingly low pitch, a near growl that surprises even myself. Cold seeps through my body, tingling the tips of my fingers. I heave a shuddering breath and point out to the city beyond this tower. “There is an entire kingdom of people who know that I live here day in and day out, and they don’t care enough to wonder if the king could be lying about why I’m here.” Frustrated, I wipe roughly at the tears that trace down my cheeks, but they don’t stop flowing. “Twenty-one years and not one person has ever thought to themselves that maybe it’s a ridiculous notion to assume a person is grieving for that long. They don’t care !”
I laugh callously, the sound laced with the pain I’ve held onto. Each inhale I take burns my lungs as I gasp for air, the room blurring around me. Gods, this pain is infinite. I’ve been falling down into an abyss of desolation for so long that I forgot I was even moving. Flynn made me hope that maybe I’d finally found the ground, hit rock bottom so that I could begin to climb back up. But the darkness has just continued to grow.
“And maybe that means I shouldn’t care either,” I cry, my chest caving with an ugly truth I’ve never voiced before. Flynn’s eyes widen with realization as he stares at me, the shock of my words and their intent leaving him momentarily frozen. Unable to handle the weight of his gaze, I turn away as I try to suck in a breath. “So how can I believe that you do?” Seconds that feel like hours pass before I sense him coming up behind me. Near but not touching.
“Well, you are wrong,” he states, his voice excruciatingly soft.
“Stop,” I gasp as I squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s too late now. It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters.” His breath tickles the top of my head as he speaks. “ You matter.” I drop my head as a sob tears me apart. His rich voice is a tender plea that only works to unravel me further as he continues, “Rhea, look at me.”
I try not to turn around because I know. I know that if I look at him, it’s going to be so much harder to shut him out. It’s going to be so much harder to pretend that he hasn’t been one of the bright spots in my life since Alexi died. That his notes and jokes and the time we’ve spent playing games and reading together have meant more to me than he’ll ever realize.
His hand faintly brushes the very outside of my elbow, just a whisper of touch so that I don’t startle. He begs again, “Please look at me.”
I can’t deny him. I’ve never been able to. The beating of my tattered heart quickens as I slowly turn, my gaze staying glued to the floor. His hands lightly cup both sides of my face, the warmth of his fingers across my cheeks seeping into my skin. Immediately, my magic perks up under his touch—as it always does—but it’s the way I can feel some of my own tension and anger and hurt melting away that leaves me breathless. My head tilts up to look at him, his molten eyes boring into mine with the kind of intensity that leaves no room for deceit.
“I never want you to doubt anything when it comes to me, so let me tell you some truths.” He smiles, taking a deep breath to fortify himself. All of my attention is focused on him as I wait for his words, the anticipation so heavy that it feels as though the universe itself is leaning in to listen. “The truth is, I find you so captivating that the risk of getting caught visiting you is inconsequential in comparison.” His thumbs gently wipe away new tears as they fall down my cheeks. “I have thought of nothing else—no one else—but you since the moment our eyes met for the first time.”
My lips part as the air around me is sucked out of the tower. My hands grab onto his chest, gripping the tunic there tightly.
“The truth is that when I look at you,” he rasps, “it’s like peering into a blazing sun. I’m drawn to you, and I would happily go blind if your face was the last thing I saw.”
My gaze is latched onto his as my chin tips further up. He compared me to the sun, but I’m more like a flower drawn to his light.
“And I’m terrified, because the truth is,” he whispers, leaning in even closer, “I feel that there is no limit to the things I would do for you to keep you safe. To make you happy. To see you smile and hear you laugh.”
Something overwhelmingly tender floods my body, wrapping me safely in its warmth. It feels as though the world around us is shut out and only he and I remain.
“Do you understand what I am telling you, Sunshine?” he pleads, our chests rising and falling in tandem. “I don’t expect anything from you. I’ll only accept what you’re willing to give me.” He lowers his head until our foreheads touch.
I’ve experienced my heart being ripped apart before—more times than I ever want to remember—but I’ve never felt what it’s like to have someone piece it back together again. I’ve never experienced what it’s like to have someone consume me so thoroughly with their words that I feel wanted, as I am.
“A minute, an hour, a day,” he says, continuing reverently and breathing in deeply, “or more, I don’t care. I first came to this tower because it was part of my job. I kept coming back because of you, because I was selfish and wanted to learn more about you. I was weak and couldn’t resist trying to make you smile. Because you enchanted me so much that I was willing— am willing—to risk nearly everything just for that minute, or hour, or day where you look at me like you see me—the real me.”
My magic flutters inside of me, coiling and twirling around, as his words permeate through any of the darkness that might have remained. Staring at him now, I nearly forget how to breathe. He’s always been so indescribably handsome, but now as he looks at me like I am the very sun his universe spins around, I realize that this version of him might be his most appealing. Vulnerability and desire blend in his expression, mirroring my own feelings.
“Flynn.” His name comes out on a ragged breath. How could I even begin to voice what he means to me? How could it compare to everything he’s just said? Perhaps more words aren’t needed. Maybe an act or a gesture can mean more than anything spoken.
At this moment, there is only him and the way he is looking at me. And I can’t deny either of us any longer. Closing the infinitesimal distance, my lips slide across his, the featherlight touch igniting me from within. A burst of panic flares through me briefly, fear that I may truly be awful at kissing or that he might not actually want this, causing me to pause. But Flynn gives me no time to dwell on it. One hand slides to the back of my head, tilting it delicately to the side while his other moves down to my lower back. His lips press more firmly against mine, guiding me with his own movements as the world around us does indeed fade away. The need to be closer to him—to have every part of me touching every part of him—is nothing like I’ve ever felt before.
I slide my fingers into the silky softness of his hair. Finally feeling it the way I’ve always wanted to as I gently grip it. In one swift move, Flynn lifts me off the ground, my legs instinctually wrap around his torso, bringing us even closer than before. A deep groan rumbles from him as I squeeze my legs tighter. My mouth opens on a gasp, the tantalizing slide of his tongue against mine causes a demanding ache to pulse at my core. The taste of him is indescribable. It reaches into the deepest parts of me, forging new pathways and unlocking parts of my body previously untouched. That unique scent of his envelopes me, creating a hazy cloud of desperation and lust. And I know instantly that a metaphorical line has been drawn in the sand.
There was my life before this kiss, and there is my life since. There was the Rhea of the past who existed alone, with so much fear and so much guilt that she never truly lived. Then, there is the Rhea of right now, kissing a man who makes her feel wanted and safe and precious and alive .
And nothing would ever be the same again .