44. Chapter Forty-Four Rhea
Chapter Forty-Four: Rhea
F lynn and I freeze, our hands placed precariously on each other’s bodies. I take in his wide pupils and the way his tan skin is flushed. When another set of knocks sounds, followed by the grumbles of an older woman, Flynn drops his forehead to mine and sighs. “It is better that we stop anyway,” he whispers, much to my chagrin. Flynn laughs as his eyes close for a moment, the hand under my shirt sliding back down to my hip.
The weight of his body on top of me is a comfort, a feeling of security. Of home. And of love. My heart flips for a moment at the thought of that word and what it means. Love. I think I love him. I repeat the words in my head, and each time, the truth of them becomes more and more clear. I love him.
Like he can hear my thoughts, Flynn’s eyes open and he pulls his head back to look at me. Our gazes lock, and something flashes there quicker than I can read before he kisses the tip of my nose and sits up, taking a slow deep breath.
“Do you not want to—” I bite my still-tingling lip, blushing under the weight of his gaze despite how we just writhed together until I was nearly brought to an orgasm.
“Of course I want to,” he answers my unfinished question.
“But the night at the lake… You said it was self-preservation. What did you mean?” I ask quietly, finally meeting his gaze.
His lips draw into a slow, devastating smile. “It means that I was trying to restrain myself.” His eyebrows draw down slightly before he leans over and brings his thumb up to my lip—which is once again trapped between my teeth—and gently frees it. “I’m sorry if I made you feel otherwise. That was never my intention.”
“And why is it better that we stop now?” I question.
Another knock shakes the door, but he ignores it as he pulls me up to sit as well, his hands then framing my face. “Don’t mistake my preference not to fuck you in an inn or in the woods as me not having the desire at all,” he declares. His voice is deep and sharp as it drags along my skin, causing goosebumps to raise in its wake. “You deserve to be somewhere we can take our time, where we can explore every inch of each other—as promised—without worrying about someone hearing our moans of pleasure or interrupting us.”
“Gods,” I whisper before our lips meet again. The kiss is both how I always hoped it would feel to share myself with another and still nothing like how I imagined it could be. And maybe that’s because I never allowed myself to think about a scenario where the man kissing me was someone like Flynn. With a deep groan, he finally lets go of me and stands, walking over to the door.
“Immie, what is all of this?” he asks, stepping out of the way as the older woman walks in holding a small cake, a black bag, and a glass bottle with a cork in it.
“I assumed you two would want some privacy and wouldn’t be attending the town festivities for Summer Solstice.” She huffs out a breath as she walks over to the table. “Plus, it isn’t a birthday unless you have cake.”
I halt my steps towards her as my gaze swings over to Flynn’s. He tilts his head to the side as he looks at Immie, crossing his arms over his chest.
“And whose birthday are we celebrating exactly?” he asks cautiously.
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me boy,” she chides, turning to face us and pinning me under her stare. “I would recognize those green eyes anywhere.” Her lips curve to the side, her hand going to a small pendant hanging from a silver chain around her neck. I bite back the urge to ask her what she means by that. She limps to me, wrapping my hand in hers. “Anyway, your secret is safe with me. Flynn here can attest to that. You made the right choice, leaving with him. He’s a good boy, even if his hair could use a cut and his style is a bit bland.”
“I’m right here,” Flynn mumbles as I bite back a laugh.
“Happy birthday, Your Highness,” she says, smiling and patting my hand twice before heading to Flynn. He gives her a hug and walks her to the door.
“We’ll be gone before the sun rises,” he murmurs quietly as she steps out into the hall.
“I’ll pack some more food for you to take with you on the road. Be safe,” she says before leaning over to look at me. “Both of you.”
I nod at her, returning her smile before she turns and heads down the hallway. “She knows you’re mage?” I ask as I follow him to the table.
“She does,” he answers, opening the black bag and taking out two forks and two glasses. I take one from him, holding it up as I study its design. It’s tall and skinny in shape, with a stem like a flower coming down and flattening out at the bottom. “It’s a flute glass.” He grabs the bottle and uncorks it slowly, a fizzing sound coming from within it. “And I’m betting this is the Mortal Kingdom’s version of sampanie.”
“Is it alcohol?” I wonder aloud, watching how it bubbles when Flynn pours it into the glass.
He nods his head and hands me one before pouring one for himself. He watches as I take a tentative sip, the bubbly golden liquid dancing along my tongue.
“It’s sweet!” I am completely surprised by the sugary aftertaste. Alexi had told me that he found all alcohol to be disgusting, not enjoying the earthy harshness of its taste. I guess he had never tried sampanie. The memory of his face forms in my mind, and my heart skips a beat in response.
Flynn watches me, his smile affectionate as he guides me to the window with a hand on my back. “The floating lanterns should start any minute,” he comments before leaving for a moment while I stare out at the rapidly approaching night sky. The sun is only another moment away from setting fully.
“Does every kingdom light lanterns on the Summer Solstice?” I ask when he steps up to my side again. Excitement bubbles up inside of me, rivaling the sweetness of the drink, as I stare out the open window.
“I think it’s more of a Mortal Kingdom thing to light them,” he answers, rubbing a hand up and down my back. I love the way he desires my touch as much as I crave his. We’ll get to do this as often as we want, whenever we want, without the limitations of a tower or the worry of being caught. I can’t stop my widening smile at the thought. “In the Mage Kingdom, there is a celebration. You dance and eat the entire night, and then when the sun rises—if you’re still awake—everyone stands still and lets the orange and pink rays of the first summer sun pour over them. It’s supposed to bring you good luck.”
I ponder over the image of that, of how beautiful it sounds. “I can’t wait to experience it next year,” I confess before looking up at him. “With you. Though you’ll have to make sure you teach me more dance moves because I—” He halts my words with a kiss, his soft lips coaxing a quiet moan from me until I’m left feeling dizzy when he pulls away. “What was that for?” I ask, hopelessly breathless. His eyes hold mine, those molten pewter depths beckoning me to get lost in them.
“I’m just happy to be here with you,” he replies. And though his smile is bright, there’s something that clouds his expression. I start to question him about it, but he speaks again before I can. “I have something for you,” he says, holding out what looks like a skinny book. The smooth leather of it is pure black with a gold floral pattern embossing the edges, and on the bottom right corner, in cursive script, is my full name: Rhea Maxwell .
“What is this?” I gasp while running a finger along the lettering, my heart playing a strange staccato in my chest.
“It’s a journal,” he answers reverently, drawing my eyes up to his. “I thought it might be nice for you to have something to document all the new experiences you’re sure to have now that you’re free.” A swell of emotion tightens my chest and creeps up my throat as tears well in my eyes. “I’m going to go check on Bella, but I wrote you something on the first page.” He steps closer to me, his hand cupping my cheek as he whispers, “Happy birthday, Sunshine.”
Sweetly kissing my forehead, he steps back and heads towards the door, slipping his boots on before quietly shutting it behind him. I sit on the edge of the bed, my breath shaky as I open the journal up to the first page.
Sunshine,
Writing this reminds me of all the letters we passed back and forth to each other in the tower. While I am particularly fond of those memories, I am much happier to have you outside of those stone walls. There are so many things I could write, so many things I want to say to you, but I haven’t found the courage. So I’ll start with a truth that I know you’re eagerly waiting for: why do I call you “Sunshine”?
It all started the moment I begged you to step out from the wall you were hiding behind. My breath caught in my throat—although to be fair, that could have been because you startled me. You moved to the railing of your loft, and the sunlight shining in from the window hit your hair in such a way that it appeared to be glowing. You looked like a true goddess, and when your eyes held mine—and that golden hue of your hair glimmered around you—an unshakable truth settled deeply within me.
You were the answer to a question I hadn’t known to ask until then. I had spent years feeling suffocated, unsure if what I was doing actually mattered, and then you were suddenly there. Like the first rays of sunshine after a thunderstorm, you radiated light against the dark. As I found ways to spend time with you, to bribe you with sweets in order to get to know you, it became clear to me why I was led to the Mortal Kingdom. It was because of you.
You’re everything I never knew I wanted and certainly never thought I’d find. I said I only want what you can give me, whatever capacity that is, and I meant it. No matter what happens going forward, you will never be alone again. I will always be here with you. To stand by you. To fight for you. To remind you how strong and incredible you are. You need only to let me.
Happy birthday, my Rhea. May you never forget how brightly you shine.
Adamantly yours,
Flynn
I close the journal and hold it to my heart as warm tears trickle down my cheeks. Happy tears this time because I know the truth of his words in my heart and in my soul. I bask in the way they pour into me like the sweetest nectar, melting me and filling those often dark and cold spaces with warmth and devotion. And when the boxes that I’ve kept so tightly locked in the chasm of my mind rattle, I let them. I don’t fight it when I can feel some of the sadness and guilt that so often plagues my heart, especially since Alexi’s death, well up inside of me. Instead of burying them back down, I imagine those feelings filtering out with my tears, letting each drop carry the weight of a burden I don’t need to hold onto anymore.
When the door opens and Flynn steps through, it’s like seeing him for the first time all over again. No—even better—because I know who he is now. I see all that he is, and I feel how much I love him, and I’m not afraid anymore. Our eyes meet, my heart pounding wildly in my chest, and I stand to go to him, but he’s already moving to me. He holds me tightly while I cry tears of joy and tears of that long-held sadness—of longing and of deeply buried sorrow—because I believe him when he says that he’ll be there for me always. When my tears start to slow, his thumbs gently wiping them away, he walks us over to the window where we watch the light of the floating lanterns begin to dot the sky, now black with night. My eyes widen when he holds out a lantern to me, the paper beacon adorned with a golden outline of a roaring lion—the Mortal Kingdom’s sigil. He strikes a match, lighting the small candle held within. While we wait for the air inside the lantern to get hot enough to float, our eyes meet over its glow, and I can’t help the smile that breaks across my face. It’s wide and bright and brimming with triumphant happiness.
“Did you know that I absolutely love your eyes and your smile? The way you look at me?” he says softly. His voice is deeply mellifluous, like a melody meant only for me. I’m about to respond when the lantern begins to pull at our fingertips, ready to be let loose. Sticking our arms out the window, we release it and watch as it floats up, joining what must be hundreds of others in the dark. I’m lost momentarily in observing the way they move when Flynn gently grips my chin, turning me to face him. “I love you.”
Everything freezes. Time and space and happiness and heartache all pause because of those three words. They do something to me, beginning to heal parts of my soul that were left shredded. They fill darkness with light and guilt with reprieve. Those words burn away the bitter and vile actions of another, and in the ashes, something incredible and beautiful rises.
Flynn slides his hand up my jaw to reverently hold the side of my face and repeats, “I love you.” His words are laced with precious adoration as his voice slightly shakes. “Wholly. Inexorably. In a way that exhilarates as much as it frightens me. With everything that I am or could ever possibly hope to be, I love you. I don’t want to know an existence without you in it. You don’t have to say it back, and it’s probably too soon— ”
“Flynn,” I whisper, my hands cupping his face as I pull him down to me. “I love you too.” My eyes hold his, stars swirling in them as I wonder if perhaps I’m dreaming. If I am, then I don’t ever want to wake. My thumbs caress his cheekbones, the overwhelming sense of rightness pulling words from me easily. “You saved me in ways I can’t explain yet, in ways that I never thought possible. When I think of home, I picture you. My heart has never felt so full, despite its many losses. I love you.”
The words are barely past my lips before his are there—a demanding and desperate kiss to seal them between us. To make sure that no matter what happens in the future, there will always be this moment cemented in both of our minds—an unbreakable truth for two people who chose each other despite the challenges of doing so. When we break apart, I swear that the room glows brighter, the silver in Flynn’s eyes glinting, but when I look behind me to find the source of the light, there is nothing there. Flynn doesn’t seem to see it as he stares intently at me, so I don’t say anything before he turns me to look back out at the lanterns. Standing behind me, he wraps his arms around me protectively while I sink back against him.
When I’m too tired to stay standing, he crawls onto the bed and pulls me with him, my head laying on his chest as the beat of his heart lulls me into sleep. The last thought I have on the brink of consciousness is that I know without a doubt that the day Flynn entered my life, it was forever changed.