PROMISES
Freya
Sleep evades me, knowing that Rowan is right here, sleeping beneath my chamber.
My gaze darts to the balcony, and I recall what happened there when he appeared as a projection.
I’d been consumed by the need for comfort and affection, and in that state, I’d told him that the next time we saw each other, I wanted him to kiss me.
That thought keeps swirling in my mind, making my heart race erratically, until I can’t stay still anymore.
He’s not going to do it, I tell myself. He understands the risk.
Nyx doesn’t help. ‘He’s the King of rogues,’ she tells me. ‘Do you think he fears anyone?’
I sigh, knowing the answer. He was never meek. He did what he wanted. He never cowered from showing his true feelings, and that is what got him banished and into the hands of the rogues. And there, he rose to power.
He’s strong. He has always been. And he has always been kind to me.
He has never hurt me in any way—never made me uncomfortable.
His love for me is pure and unconditional and without expectations.
I don’t even know if I deserve it, but I know that I crave it.
And right now, all I want to do is ask him if he still means it.
Before I can stop myself, I pull my robe from the chair and wrap it around myself.
I press a kiss to Finn and Ivy’s forehead, then I make my way down the stairs to where I know Rowan is sleeping.
Two of his rogues guard the chamber door, making me halt.
I consider turning back, but my feet carry me forward.
One of them bows low and then enters the chamber, returning a few seconds later to tell me, “You may enter, Luna Freya.”
I swallow the lump that has formed in my throat.
What am I doing?
Rowan is sitting on a desk, studying a scroll. But something tells me he’s only pretending. He hastily rises when I walk to him. His lips part, and I open my mouth to speak at the same time.
Then we both pause.
Rowan breaks the silence that settles. “You wanted to say something?”
“I—I couldn’t sleep,” I stammer, blushing with embarrassment. What do I expect him to do about my insomnia?
Rowan holds my gaze, waiting.
I shake my head, looking away. “I thought you’d visit.”
“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to,” he explains calmly, the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
I nod slowly. Of course. “Thank you,” I say. “For saving Finn’s life. And mine. I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”
“I was only honouring my promise of protecting you.”
I meet his gaze, and my heart swells with some emotion, closing my throat before I force myself to look away. “Rowan…”
“Yes, Freya,” he rasps, moving closer, his breath fanning my face. His fingers instinctively brush hair away from my cheek and hook beneath my chin, tilting my head up. Our eyes meet, and I shudder with need.
I never let myself want him before because I knew I wasn’t allowed to. Now there are no bounds. I’m free, and the only thing holding me back is myself.
Rowan’s green eyes have darkened, watching me with an intensity that makes me feel exposed, but it doesn’t scare me. I know I’m safe with him. I’m certain he’d never break my heart if I hand it over to him.
Rising on my toes, I seal his lips with mine.
He responds with a groan that erupts at the back of his throat, and it’s like the ties holding his arms break free.
They wrap around my waist, pulling me up and closer until I’m pressed against his chest. My arms hook around his neck as he deepens the kiss, exploring my mouth with his tongue, flooding me with pleasure, and weakening my knees.
I’m limp against him, held upright only by his strong grip.
Only my lips are moving against his, trying to match the sweet, maddening rhythm he’s setting.
His hand travels the curve of my waist up my back and grips my neck, fingers burying into my hair, making me moan.
It unravels him. He lifts me up effortlessly, locking my legs around his waist, and presses me against the wall.
I’m out of breath, and so happy at the same time that I smile against his lips.
His laugh comes out rough before he asks, “What?”
“Nothing,” I whisper shyly, turning my head so his kiss lands on my cheek. He moves to my earlobe and nibbles, making me gasp so loud my cheek burns with shame. “Rowan—”
“Mmm,” he hums against my neck. “I love you, Freya,” he says. “If the Moon Goddess chooses now’s the time to end my life, I will go with no regrets. I’m the happiest man alive on the continent right now. I have never been happier.”
My fingers brush his cheek softly, and he smiles wider. “Don’t talk of death,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “I can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”
He shakes his head. “No, I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to.”
“No,” I answer without missing a beat. “Never. Stay with me.”
He kisses me again, and we both smile against each other’s lips. He sets me down then, and I almost stumble from giddiness. Licking my lips, I brush my hair back. He takes my hands and presses kisses on my palms over the half-moon scars. “I have always been yours,” he reminds me.
I nod, feeling a lump form in my throat at the admission. I turn away, then hate myself for it. But the moment has passed. We’re surrounded by greater, more dangerous things. And as much as I’d love to let him consume me tonight—and I know he will, given the chance—I hold back.
“Izel was behind the attack, don’t you think?” I ask instead.
I hear Rowan sigh loudly. “We found the coven,” he says quietly. “The ones who tried the shadow magic.”
“Coven?” I echo, recovering.
He nods. “They moved before we reached them. Took everything. Burned their trails. But we found a name.”
“What name?”
“Nyssa,” he says. “She was—is a blood-witch. She was believed—”
“Dead,” I complete for him, gasping. “So, she is alive.”
Rowan’s eyes darken. “We think she was responsible for Draven’s death. But not directly.”
Nyx hums low within me, ‘The bloodline circles back, always.’