Chapter 33
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Never underestimate the strength of the bonds that bind us. They can be our salvation or our downfall.
— From the journal of Violet Andrever
The return was mercifully swift. I pulled and pulled on that pinprick of golden light, following it through the chaos of time. The light grew larger and brighter within me, until it had expanded back to its usual warm presence.
I reappeared in the ruined temple and doubled over, gasping.
Not from nausea this time, but from the stark difference between the apocalyptic darkness of the past and the flickering warmth of the present.
From the chaos of battle to blessed silence.
The adrenaline that had carried me through the battle still coursed in my veins, making my hands shake as I tried to catch my breath.
I had barely enough time to register the desperate relief that crashed through my chest before I was grabbed and clutched tightly in a warm embrace.
My heart recognized the beat of his immediately.
I leaned into his familiar, solid presence, his strong arms wrapped around me, tightly, too tightly, as if he was trying to convince himself I was real.
I wrapped my arms around his waist and hugged him back just as fiercely. He let loose a ragged sigh against my hair, and some of the desperate edge left his embrace, though his arms never loosened.
I thought I felt a whisper of a kiss on the top of my head, so gentle it might have been my imagination.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Griff whispered against my hair, his voice rougher than I had heard before. His hand cradled the back of my head like I might disappear again at any moment.
I pulled back and looked up at him, seeing the raw panic in those hazel eyes. “You’ll never lose me,” I said, and meant it with every fiber of my being. I would not lose him like my parents had lost each other. Not like Violet had lost everyone she loved.
Not if I had anything to say about it.
Something shifted in his expression at my words—relief, desire, and something deeper that made my breath catch.
It was like a dam broke as the golden warmth rose and crashed over us.
He leaned down to me, or I leaned up into him, I wasn’t sure.
All I knew was that his mouth was crushed against mine, an unstoppable force, giving me a powerful, greedy kiss and it was everything I had ever wanted.
Finally.
There was no other word for it—he devoured me.
This wasn’t the gentle kiss of new lovers coming together for the first time.
This was desperation and relief and months of pent-up need.
My lips parted and he dove in, our tongues tangling as his mouth slanted over mine with ever-deepening angles.
He kissed me like I was air and he’d been drowning.
Like I was the answer to every prayer he’d never dared speak.
Like I was the very reason he was alive.
I kissed him back just as desperately. Everything I had witnessed, everything I had done—the death, the darkness, the sacrifice—faded away as I melted into him until nothing existed except this moment.
This man. The all-consuming sensation of his lips on mine, the dance of his tongue.
His arms locked tightly around me, eliminating any space between us.
I didn’t need to breathe anyway. He was stealing all my breath and giving me life in return.
Then, something shifted. The raw hunger faded away and he gentled the kiss.
His mouth moved tenderly against mine, as if I was something precious, the most precious thing he’d ever held in his arms. One hand cradled my face while the other remained at my waist, still holding me close, but as something cherished rather than in desperation.
It was everything I’d ever needed, without knowing I’d needed it.
I fisted my hands in his shirt, afraid he might pull away. But when he broke the kiss just enough to stare into my eyes, there was no hesitation.
“You were never a duty, Lexa,” he whispered, his thumb tracing my cheekbone. “Never an obligation. The furthest thing from it.”
The words hit me harder than I thought they would, and shattered whatever remaining defenses I had left.
He left my lips to nuzzle and trail kisses along my jaw, down the column of my neck. When he reached that sensitive spot where my pulse hammered against my throat, I gasped and felt my knees go weak.
“I guess we’re doing this,” I managed to stammer out. My voice had a breathless quality I’d never heard before.
He made a sound against my neck that may have been laughter, or relief.
We had somehow backed ourselves against the wall, the cool stone at odds with the heat building between us.
My hands found his biceps, marveling at the solid strength of him around me, the reality that I was here, with him.
I was reaching for him, lost in the sensation of his mouth on my skin, when he went rigid against me.
His head snapped up, body tensing with alertness.
“What—?”
And then I heard it too. Footsteps.
“All the seven gods-fucking-dammit,” he breathed, his forehead falling against mine.
“Who?” I asked, breathlessly, my lips coursing over his cheek.
“My fucking brother.” He closed his eyes in silent frustration. “I’m assuming you don’t want him to know?”
I looked at him, taking in his mussed hair from where my hands had been tangled through it, the dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless worry. How long had I been gone?
I reached up to smooth his brow, my hand getting lost again in those sandy waves, and then stopped.
Right. Finn.
Coming this way.
“I… I don’t know,” I answered his question.
He held on tight to my waist as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “This isn’t over.” His voice was rough with promise and warning alike as he leaned closer, our mouths almost touching again.
“Oh, no.” My hand was on his cheek, fuzzy with new scruff. “It’s only just beginning.” I closed the distance between us and brushed my mouth over his, once, twice. A promise of my own of what was to come when we had time and privacy.
That golden warmth pulsed between us, and for a moment, I almost forgot there was anyone else in the world.
Almost.
I forced myself to break away from Griff not a moment too soon, as Finn rounded the corner. If he noticed our appearances, the way we were breathing a little too hard, he didn’t comment. Instead, he grinned and opened his arms.
“Success?” he asked as I threw myself into his embrace.
I nodded, not trusting my voice yet. When I pulled back, I noticed the split lip, the slight swelling around his left eye.
“What happened?”
“Griff happened. He was supremely unhappy he didn’t know you were leaving.” His eyes flicked between us. I really hoped things weren’t as obvious as they felt. “Something going on there you want to tell me?”
I shook my head, not sure if I was denying his question or trying to clear the growing fog in my mind, but he accepted my answer as he pressed a gentle kiss to my head.
Griff appeared at my side as I disengaged from Finn, not going so far as to bodily remove me from Finn’s embrace, but not far from it.
His arm snaked around my waist with possessiveness.
I started to draw away, put distance between us, but my thoughts were drifting every which way and I needed Griff’s touch to anchor me in the present.
I was not going to think about the fact that I had just left my parents and Violet to their certain deaths. Deaths that I had all but suggested to them.
Griff kept me tucked into his side, supporting me as we headed out of the cavernous temple.
And I realized just how weak I was. I walked on unsteady legs, only just now beginning to feel the scrapes and bruises from the battle.
My power wells were drained significantly.
But the worst part was the strange fuzziness in my head, the dizziness that made me lean heavily against Griff.
We climbed the stairs slowly. I must have been responding appropriately because Finn kept talking, but his words faded in and out, as other thoughts filtered through.
Griff’s hand at my waist was the only thing keeping me steady as we reached another landing.
Then between one step and the next, I wasn’t me anymore.
The staircase was the same, but the hand gripping the railing wasn’t mine. I smoothed my skirts. When had I put on a dress?
The voice that addressed me, filled with that particular brand of disappointed disdain I knew so well, called me a name that wasn’t my name.
Or was it?
The name was familiar; I knew it, but I didn’t think it was actually mine. My thoughts spun as I lost my sense of self, caught up in two identities. I pressed my hands to my temples, hoping that would somehow allow me to distinguish between real life and memory.
I lost control, my mind spinning in double time. As I crumbled to the ground, I heard a voice calling a different name. That was my name, right? My real name? That voice I knew. I would follow that voice anywhere. I reached my hand up, trying to find the owner of the voice, only to grasp at air.
With a shout of that name that I couldn’t quite be sure was mine ringing in my ears, I faded into nothingness.