Chapter 13 Cling to Me #2
I distrusted everything about this.
“How do you feel about that?” I croaked. “Knowing they’re gone?”
“For your sake, I’m glad. If it’s true—and if their dragons blazed them… well, it seems like a fitting end, though my compassion goes to their bonded dragons. They didn’t deserve to end their lives that way.”
“But how do you feel about it?”
Donavyn’s jaw flexed. “I’m angry that I didn’t have the chance to lay hands on them—especially Ruin.
I trained him personally. This is an affront to everything I ever taught him.
But, I’m glad that their end comes in a way that makes it clear to others that they were not men of honor.
That’s a small comfort. If the problem truly has been solved for us, I’ll accept the grace.
But I’ll always rage that I didn’t get the chance to dispatch that fucker myself. ”
I finally broke eye contact and looked down at where he touched me. Usually, Donavyn’s touch was a balm to me. A heated joy.
The flutter still appeared in my chest at the sight of his hands on me. But it lacked the spark that had driven me into his arms every possible moment. I wondered if he could feel that.
I was dull. As if everything in me that ignited for him had been wetted down.
“Bren?” His voice was quiet, apprehensive.
“The dragon?” I asked. I felt terrible for the poor male, but it was a distraction. I was trying to find that fire in myself. That sweeping thrill. That unity. It terrified me that Donavyn was touching me, and I wasn’t battling the urge to mount him like a horse.
“Kgosi and a couple others are working hard to revive him. He seems…”
“Defeated,” I breathed.
Donavyn nodded. “Kgosi thinks if he’s still alive tomorrow, he’ll pull through. But nothing is certain.”
When I didn’t comment, Donavyn sighed.
“Bren, Love, I feel for Ciar as well. It makes me ill that we’d lose him for the sake of that sick bastard, but there are even more important things afoot.
Do you remember what I said when I got here?
Events outpace us. You and I will have to leave soon.
The king would have sent us already if I’d let him.
I’m doing everything I can to slow this down, but I have to admit he’s right: There’s a very good chance these assholes have made us vulnerable, either through treason, or mere stupidity.
Either way, our Kingdom needs us—you, and me, and Kgosi and Akhane—and I cannot deny the call. But I am terrified of it.”
“I’m not.” It was true. I probably should have felt more frightened.
When I’d thought about being assigned before, my insides had tangled in a heady mix of fear and thrill.
I’d looked forward to the thought of being one of those on dragonback, flying from the launch hollow, farewelled, off to a new land to do good work.
It was exciting to think I’d be trusted with that.
Yet, there was also the fear of the unknown. The fear of fucking it all up.
But, now… I tried to conjure that anticipation, and felt almost nothing but a small flutter of eagerness in my chest.
“Bren, when those orders come—”
“I’ll be ready, and I’ll answer them.”
Donavyn looked at me like he was afraid I’d break. “I know you will. That’s not what I meant.”
“You’ll be there with me, and Kgosi and Akhane. Most Furyknights wouldn’t ever have that kind of support.”
“Most Furyknights wouldn’t be sent on a spy mission within weeks of being raised,” he said gruffly.
“Bren, I know you’re not well. I can feel you—or rather, I can’t feel you.
Not as I could. Talk to me. These last days will be so full.
Even more training. Plus the mission. I can’t bear to go to sleep with this wall between us. Please. Talk to me.”
“We already did. You said sorry. I know you mean it.”
“And I know you’re still upset.”
Something in my chest twisted and I looked away from him, towards the window outside. I was jittery. Anxious. And dead inside at the same time.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Bren?”
“I’m angry.”
Donavyn nodded, but didn’t speak. I swallowed hard.
“I feel… less sure of you,” I said bluntly.
“How much less?”
“I don’t know. I feel like you stole something from me. Before, I had no questions about you,” I said, and deep inside me, that little spark crackled again. A flare of light. And the heat of anger. “I was so sure you were the good one.”
Donavyn frowned. “Good one? Good one… of the Furyknights?”
“No! I knew you were the good one of us. I knew I’d probably fuck it all up, but because you were there, it would be okay. You make things okay, Donavyn. You always make things better. And now…”
He tensed and his tone intensified. “I can still do that for you, Bren. But we’re having a conversation later about how I am not the only good one between us.”
“You’re better than me at—”
“Later, please, Bren. Go back. You said I stole something from you. Talk to me about that.”
I tensed, instinctively measuring him for a smile that covered anger, like Ruin when he was pretending he wasn’t about to rage.
Or that hint of leashed violence I’d sense in my father when he urged me to be honest, but didn’t truly want to hear anything with which he didn’t agree.
But Donavyn only looked solemn. A little ashamed. And sad.
I sighed heavily. “I love you,” I said.
“I love you too. But that’s not what I’m asking you to tell me.”
Irritation flared at his stubbornness, but there was a rush from him in the bond—reassurance. Steadiness. I knew if I’d linked with Akhane she would have urged me to trust him.
And perhaps that was it.
Maybe that’s why I felt so uneasy? And a little bit like I wanted to scream?
“I thought you’d never let me down,” I murmured. “But if I can’t trust your word, whose can I trust?”
“You can trust me, Bren. No, don’t look away.
” I’d turned my head towards the window again, just to get a break from his eyes, but he caught my chin and made me meet his gaze again.
“Hear me,” he said gruffly. “With the exception of God Himself, no one will love you like I do. No one. But I am a man, Bren. I am not flawless. Now, I see that holding back was the wrong thing for you. For us. Yet, I did it. I cannot take it back. So, how do we move forward? Because I’m telling you, very soon, we’ll leave the Keep and it will be months, minimum, before we return—unless war breaks out and then we’re called to fight.
“There is little hope of peace in our world, soon. Tell me how to heal this rift? How to show you, give you confidence again. Because I cannot risk that we’re separated forever with this hanging between us. I would regret that to my bones. So, tell me. What do you need from me?”
“I just need you,” I whispered, because it was true. Something in my chest cracked open. “I just need you with me, and honest, and… don’t hide things from me. Ever.”
“You have my word. Will you give me the same?”
I blinked. “What? I haven’t—”
“It’s not an accusation, Bren. It’s an acknowledgement: I know you hold things back out of fear that I might, I don’t know, leave?
Give up? Something—I see it flicker in your eyes.
I feel it in the bond. Like a tiny animal hiding in the grass, pleading with God to stop the cat from seeing it.
But I’m the one God gave to protect you.
Please, stop believing that I might learn something which would turn me away. All I want is you, safe.”
“That’s all I want too!” I cried.
“Then why—”
“Because I know you think you have to do it all. You aren’t going on a mission with me as a Furyknight and your partner in the mission. You see your mate, a woman, someone to be protected.”
“And I always will.”
“But I’ll have a job to do!”
“And I will help you do it. No, hear me—that is my job. With you, with your brothers, with the king. My job is to help. To see ahead. To make the plan to give you the best chance of success. Let me do that for you.”
“I will. If you promise me that you won’t kill anyone for my sake.”
Donavyn’s brows pinched and his head snapped back. “Bren, I will always protect you. I’d protect any of my men—especially in the field. I can’t give you my word I’d never—”
“I meant revenge,” I said quietly.
He grimaced. “You don’t want me to wish them punished?!”
“Of course I do! I want to see them punished, too! But I don’t ever want to think that there’s something you could want enough—even if it’s for me—that you’d lie to me again.
I can’t, Donavyn. I’ve been lied to enough.
I’ve been manipulated and deceived and I can’t live with the question in my mind that you might have some hidden plan, just to protect me from it.
So, please, give me your word that you will not harm anyone for my sake.
That if we find out they aren’t dead, we let the dragons judge them. Or we bring them back to the king.”
Donavyn sat back, rolling his jaw, but his eyes never left mine. I felt him battle, resist the request. And then felt him soften.
“You have my word,” he said slowly, a moment later.
“And tell me you’ll never lie to me again, even if it means telling me bad news, or something you know I don’t want to hear.”
He nodded once. “I’ll tell you. Even if it hurts.”
A small piece of the weight I’d been carrying tipped off my chest. And even though I was still cold inside, some of the warmth returned. A piece of my comfort that could only come from being in his arms. And the snap of that spark.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too.” Then he opened his arms and looked at me with sheer pleading in his gaze. “Now, please… may I hold you?”
I exhaled heavily, then crawled across the couch to lay on his chest, bury my nose under his jaw, and cling to him.
And even though all was not well. Even though I wasn’t quite myself, some measure of peace returned.
There was nowhere else I wanted to be more than there with him.
And that was enough. For now.
~ DONAVYN ~
The moment she sank into my arms, relief swelled my chest.
Thank God. The wariness in her. The chill. The sense of distance in the bond… It had been terrifying.
But she was back. I could feel her—both in her body, and through the bond—slowly relaxing. Still cool. Still uneasy. She’d had a shock, and struggled to let go of it. I prayed she’d settle back into herself soon, even with the extra stresses she would have to live in for the coming weeks.
At that thought, I actually shuddered. And my sweet mate kissed my throat and squeezed me harder.
We lay there together for some time before I picked her up and carried her to bed. There, we undressed each other, but not with our usual fire that heralded lovemaking. Instead, tonight, it was the need to be close. Skin to skin. To breathe in sync. To sleep in each other’s arms.
To cling.
Once we were settled under the quilts with her head on my shoulder and her arm slung across my chest, then I could breathe. Then I could sleep.