Chapter 13 #3
Being set loose had done wonders for Maisey's figure. Her belly seemed to bulge more than it used to. Her muscles seemed stronger.
Mirielle scanned the forest for Reis, but she only found snow-dusted trees. The hamlet had never felt this empty before. It felt like it had lost a piece of itself.
A tight twisting feeling settled in her chest.
Something about it made her feel vulnerable. Like she had been exposed to the world. She had never been outside of Ambersaith without Reis. He had always been there to guide her—a chest to fall back on when she was tired, someone to protect her while she slept.
The world felt sharper now, more dangerous. She realized, even after everything, she somehow felt less safe without him.
Mirielle spent the rest of the day with Maisey before heading inside to help Lettie with dinner.
After dinner, she used Lettie's cottage to wash. Using a pitcher, she poured warm water over her hair. She wiped her body with a linen rag and soap. Then she put on a clean shift and wrapped herself in a heavy blanket before returning outside.
She wondered if Reis might be hiding somewhere in the hamlet. She hadn't checked at night, so she decided to go on a short walk.
The night sky stretched clear above her, endless and dark, littered with stars that glittered like scattered shards of silver.
Frost clung to the rooftops and the earth crunched softly beneath her boots as she wove through the cool air.
Then he was there. Reis sat on the floor against the far wooden wall beside Hank, one knee bent, arm resting loosely across it, his head tipped back against the timber as though asleep.
Hank lifted his head at her arrival and huffed softly through his nose.
"Reis—" Her voice bordered on heartbreak.
Reis opened his eyes immediately.
"You shouldn't be out here." His voice was rough from exhaustion. Then he looked over her and concern clouded his features. "Your hair is wet."
He stood and walked over to her and pulled her blanket tightly around her, closing the cracks where the cold might seep in.
He looked cold. The kind that settled bone deep. Starlight caught in the dark edges of his hair. Frost clung to the black steel of his armor as if invited there as punishment. His head was bowed as if he was afraid his gaze alone would cause her fear.
Then understanding hit her.
He hadn't abandoned her. He had been sleeping out here, night after night, because he could not bear the thought of frightening her again.
This man had crossed kingdoms to claim her, had fought, bled and killed for her. And when he realized he had become something she feared, he had removed himself rather than ask her to endure it.
It struck her chest hard with worry. "Please come inside," she whispered. Her eyes began to shine with tears. "It's freezing."
A faint smile touched Reis's mouth and he looked out at the snowy forest. "I've slept in much colder." The words were meant to be reassuring but Reis saw pain flash in her face.
He looked down at her. Her silver eyes somehow seemed brighter in the starlight. Like silver glinting under candlelight, beautiful and fragile.
Reis's chest tightened.
"I feel safer when you're close." The confession was barely louder than the wind.
Reis stood completely frozen. Like the words had found a crack inside him and split it wide open. Something in him gave way.
His hand lifted, brushing gently against her cheek. The look he gave her bordered on grief.
"I'm always close." The promise sounded almost hoarse, like he meant it with every deep and buried piece of himself.
His thumb lingered against her skin. His gaze searched hers for retreat. Whatever he found there stole the last of his restraint.
"Forgive me."
Then he held her chin in his hand, bent down and kissed her.
Deeply.
It wasn't gentle or restrained. He seemed to pour his very soul into her, every guarded piece of himself.
It was ravenous, begging, desperate. It carried everything he couldn't say—the regret for the mistakes he had made, the words he couldn't find, the fear, the longing, the terrible depth of what she had become to him.
It was pleading. It was surrender.
And then somehow, impossibly, he found her soul and seized it back like something precious he could no longer survive without. Holding it tight enough to ache, claiming it with every certainty.
It lit something in her core that could have melted stars. It blazed a path through her soul, burning away every thought until the only thing left was the press of his mouth against hers.
Then he slowly pulled back. His expression gentled as he looked down at her. Her silver eyes searched him as what he silently confessed gently settled over her.
"Please come inside," she whispered. "I need you."
He looked at her with such heart-rending softness that at first, she thought he might refuse her.
He closed his eyes and kissed her forehead, a trembling breath leaving him as though some unbearable weight had finally eased from his chest.
"I will come inside," he murmured into her hair. "If you need me, I will always come, Mirielle."