3. What Time Has Stolen #3
He was here now. He’d returned. Sunkissed, dusty, and unharmed, smelling of travel and adventure, and freedom. He hadn’t gone to the Companions, to feasting, or to bathe in Lustrals. He’d come straight here. Had somehow known where she would be.
Not somehow.
It is the Bond.
It has not abandoned us.
It lives. It breathes.
Her fingers loosened, and all her hesitation slipped between them, giving way to raw, unfiltered adoration.
You have not forgotten me, she thought before she could stop herself. You found me.
A thought in the Bond, one they both could hear.
Forgive me, he answered through that sacred link. I beg you, starlight…
You bled for me, Kailorien…
I forgot you. Forgot us. Left without saying goodbye. And for years before that, tried to distance myself thinking I was—
The Void must be impartial. You were doing what you had to in order to—
Make no excuses for me, Auryn. None. I will not hear of them.
Kailorien didn’t mean to pull her closer.
Truly—he meant only to hold that moment.
To commit her to memory again before she turned away, before duty and distance reclaimed them both.
But her pain ground like salt into his wounds.
And without thinking, his hand slid from her wrist to her waist. His other rose to her cheek, fingers threading into silver hair.
“Look at me,” he rasped, tugging her forward. Into his body heat. Into his scent. Into the Bond.
Her eyes lifted. Wide. Surprised.
Beautiful endless stars swirling within.
A rose blush flushed her cheeks.
The tether between them surged.
Pulsing. Flaring.
Through it, her voice broke through again.
Kail…Kail…my Kail…
Hearing his name—one he remembered only as she spoke it now—pressed like a weight against his chest. But not a burden. No—relief. A pressure rupturing as longing and regret flooded into him.
“There you are,” he whispered, his throat tight. “Now say it aloud…please…”
She shook her head, her eyes misting.
“Please,” he begged, unashamed.
Her lower lip trembled. She took a breath.
“Kail…”
With a groan, he pressed his forehead to hers.
Auryn’s breath stuttered. “Kail, wait…”
“Why not? Do you not want this?”
“Yes, more than anything,” the words tore from her throat like a bird long caged.
“Then—”
She ran her fingers over his lips. “Because I’ve longed for you…for decades…praying…hoping we could find each other again. Past duty. Past title. Past all the things that bind us. Past what the Rite of Scars took from you…from us…”
You know. Void-damn it all…I never wanted you to know…
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Did you think I would let you bleed before my eyes, Kailorien, and merely watch? Did you think I would sit on my throne, passive, while knowing it was carved from your ribs?
I would give each one for you. Would carve you a key to this cage, if I could.
I will not allow it. Not again. Whatever path remains before us, we will walk it together. Not apart.
“I’ve thought of nothing else,” he grimaced.
“After I started to remember, everything changed. In all the ash and blood and war, I could only think of feeling you again, of coming home to you, of finding a way past—” He bit off the end of the sentence, and she stroked his cheek.
“Past what I am expected to be and what I want to be. For you.”
“Have you found a way?”
“No. But I’m tired of searching alone. Of thinking I am protecting you when all I am doing is leaving you to darkness.”
“Kail…if I taste this now...I might break entirely.”
“I will not break you,” he swore. Stopped. Moved his hand back. “But if this is too much…if I am beyond forgiveness…”
Auryn snagged his fingers. Twined them with her own.
“My body has grown empty without you.”
He took a breath.
Then another.
His heart unsettled. Wild with hope. Not to claim her, but to earn the right to touch her once again. Only a chance. Only her regard. So he might make up for all the time they’d lost. He pulled her flush against him.
“Then let me fill you. Again and again. Until nothing separates us any longer. Not duty. Not the Doctrine. Nothing.”
He kissed her. Not careful. Not sweet. But like he had waited entire lifetimes for her to stand in his arms again.
Her mouth parted in surprise—then fire. Her hands rose to his armor, gripping the edges, pulling him in as though she might burn from the inside out if she didn’t touch him, ground him, taste him.
He let it deepen—claiming, taking—until her hands clutched at his shoulders, her body arching with need. When they broke, they were ragged. Her fingers still on his collar. His breath hot against her lips.
“Kail,” she whispered again, gasping when his fingers ghosted across her neck to move her hair aside. His lips followed, murmuring upwards to seal a kiss against ear. She whimpered, body breaking out in goosebumps.
“Come sit in the broth with me,” he begged. “I swear I’ll behave...”
Her grip on his collar tightened. “You never behave,” she admonished.
“No,” he murmured, kissing the hollow of her throat, “but I’ll try harder this time. Just… come with me. Be near me. Let me feel something real before the walls close in again.”
She leaned her forehead against his, eyes fluttering shut. “There is no place I would rather be.”