Chapter 49
The evening sky dropped blankets of snow, but the endless snapping fire in Reeve’s lounge provided warmth enough for them all. It was immortal itself. Maeve retreated from her siblings, Zimsy, Abraxas, and the little ones who couldn’t stop asking their new Uncle Antony questions.
Antony didn’t look bothered in the slightest as he told them stories of the grandfather they’d never meet. Alphard smiled, interjecting his own details here and there.
Maeve grabbed a quick bite from the table of food, satiating Zimsy’s constant encouragement for her to please eat something. She wasn’t sure she needed to eat anymore. She hadn’t been hungry once since she’d taken the power of Aterna. But she popped a grape in her mouth nonetheless.
“I don’t get you,” said Eryx, appearing at her side, as she picked up another.
He spoke softly, his words meant just for her ears, but the elegant music kept their conversation private.
Maeve didn’t look at him. “Is that meant to be some groundbreaking information?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am trying,” he muttered.
“You’re doing a wonderful job,” she offered, being no help as she continued to chew the grape.
He opened his mouth to continue, but Maeve cut him off casually.
“You’re confused,” she said, then swallowed. “You don’t understand how I could stand here and enjoy a party when, come sunrise, my view will look entirely different. You don’t get how I smile, while Mal waits in torture and possession when I claim my priority is saving him.”
Eryx didn’t respond. Maeve’s brows raised.
“Am I right?”
He nodded.
She looked across the hall, finding Antony and Alphard at once, as they laughed and drank like they’d never been apart.
Arianna sat close by, smiling consistently.
Maeve had never seen such a look of glee on her sister’s face.
Zimsy ate her plate of chocolate-covered sweets, her own recipe no doubt.
Abraxas sat and sipped his drink, reserved and occasionally interjecting as Lyrux played at their feet with Arianna’s twins.
The sight made her shoulders drop.
Her son was not free.
He was trapped beneath a spell of protection. A cage. A prison.
When would it be safe for him to live when she could feel every single Dreaded Dead on the other side of Reeve’s barrier that clawed at that wall of Magic with the intent to harm him?
Maeve’s chest ached. “It is not for me I celebrate. Nor for Mal.”
She watched as her family reminisced and did their best to pretend like death wasn’t at their doorstep. That the finite reality of conflict hadn’t arrived.
“If I, alone, could evacuate the entire Dread Lands right now, I would,” she said softly. “I’d leave them all here to laugh and remember an easier time. I’d pour you and Reeve a drink, and let you sit at the bar for hours while I shouldered the burden.”
Eryx watched her with an intense desire to understand deep in his eyes.
“But even with this new power, I can’t do it alone.”
Eryx swallowed uncomfortably at her vulnerability. “And Reeve? Are you at his side because you can’t do it alone?”
Maeve’s face fell into a cold solemnity. She looked over at Eryx and nodded her head slightly towards Zimsy.
“She’s standing over there just begging to be held and fed strawberries,” drawled Maeve. “And for some reason, you’re still standing here boring me.”
Eryx scowled at her, but his eyes gave him away as he stepped away from her and moved towards Zimsy.
A brief moment passed, and Maeve anticipated Reeve’s hands before they ever reached her.
The power of Aterna that they now shared sharpened their connection, given that it had been forged in that very Magic.
His broad hand rested at the small of her back, fingers pressing into her, rotating her body towards his.
She looked up at him as their chests connected.
His free hand slid down her arm and twisted their fingers together.
Instinctively, they moved as one, swaying slowly to the ethereal music as Maeve placed her hand on his chest.
“Would you like to dance?” he asked lowly.
“I think we already are,” she said softly.
Reeve hummed in agreement, his fingers moving absently over hers.
“I’ve always wanted to dance with you,” he said.
“Why did you never ask?”
He smiled placatingly. “Many reasons.”
Her eyebrows slid up, and he looked away from her as he answered, never ceasing their gentle movements in place.
“The most recent argument I made for myself was that Mal wouldn’t like it.
And I was afraid he would punish you for it.
The second is that politically, it didn’t look good.
You were the daughter of an allied Premier.
One who watched you like a hawk when you were with anyone but Malachite.
And thirdly, because, at least back then, your father was furious with me for even looking at you. ”
“I’ve remembered so much from then,” said Maeve. “He forbid you from pursuing me.”
“Do you judge me for listening then? And for not listening now?”
She shook her head and moved her hand up to his neck. His breath stalled as her fingers traced over the Vexkari scarring he received from Demevirld, a product of his curse.
“I think the circumstances have changed now,” she answered at last. “I think he’d understand this time.”
Reeve’s Magic curled beneath her chin, drawing her gaze away from his scars and to his eyes.
“This time,” repeated Reeve, as if the words hurt.
As if he, too, wondered if his breaking her heart was the catalyst for everything that had built up and then collapsed. As though he knew if he hadn’t pushed her away, that perhaps Shadow would have never been released.
And Mal wouldn’t be the one suffering for their mistakes.
She wouldn’t let herself think about it because ultimately, it didn’t matter. The set of choices before her couldn’t be altered by a what-if scenario, and so she didn’t dwell on the thought. She wouldn’t give meaning to something potentially destructive and damaging.
This evening was for life, choosing to live, as Reeve had said, despite the horrors that awaited her. Despite their next move and the darkness that lingered just beyond Reeve’s barrier.
Maeve rested her head against his chest, and he drew her impossibly closer. Her eyes fell closed at his blanket of comfort. They swayed in serene silence, letting the laughter of their loved ones be their music.
When she looked up at Reeve, his content stare was already on her.
“Let’s go and join them?” she offered.
Reeve nodded subtly, but he didn’t release her back.
He dropped their clasped hands and bent his head, capturing her lips against his as his fingers trailed through her hair, bracing the back of her head.
His lips moved tenderly across hers, unhurried and free.
Maeve responded with her own kiss, humming against his lips in appreciation.
Both his hands traveled to her face as their kiss broke naturally.
Do you love me, Reeve of Aterna? she asked across his mind, the thought tumbling forward without a care.
Reeve’s thumb traced across his bottom lip as he replied.
“In the most maddening way.”
Her chest swelled, and his fingers rolled under her jaw, kicking her neck back.
Maeve bit her lip. I love you, she said.
Reeve’s thumbs slid up, tracing across her cheekbones.
I know, he purred as his grin widened and his tongue danced across the tip of his canine.
She rolled her eyes, desperately fighting her pleased smile, and tried to pull away from him. He didn’t let her get far before he pulled her flush against himself once more.
“But I still want to hear it singing from those pretty lips,” he said, his voice low.
Maeve shook her head devilishly.
Grinning ferally, he said, “I’ll coax those words from you, kitten.”
Her stomach flipped over, excited energy racing through her blood as she remembered their interrupted moment the previous night. When his armor vanished and she lay beneath him.
“Is that a threat?” asked Maeve, raising her brows and parting her lips.
“Consider it a promise,” he said. “It’s one of many things I plan to make you confess.” His hands slid down her sides and gripped her hips with a jolt. “And just wait until you hear my confessions, Maeve.”
Maeve laughed. A sound of pure, unbridled joy burst from her throat. The sound a woman makes when she feels completely worshipped. Her head kicked back, and her eyes closed as the sound poured from her.
Reeve bent over her, dipping her back and watching her face. “Absolutely fucking perfect,” he muttered with a sly grin.
He drew her back up, never taking his eyes off her.
When she stood straight once more, he released her.
He tucked two fingers under her chin and pulled her to the tips of her toes.
He planted a single, soft kiss against her lips, and once her head was fuzzy and filled with desire once more, he nodded his head towards their family and friends.
Her fingers found his as they crossed towards the pack of drinking and laughter.
Abraxas scooted over, making room for them.
He leaned forward and poured Reeve a stout drink.
Reeve accepted it with a small nod of reverence.
He settled back with Maeve, draping one long arm across the back of the plush sofa behind her.
“I’m just saying,” said Alphard, his fingers over Victoria’s in his lap, “it was because of me we got out of those summer classes.”
“No, it wasn’t,” barked Antony in a half-laugh. “I told father to write Larliesl and tell him if we didn’t come home for summer, that he’d pull his dueling club donations.”
Alphard’s face dropped.
Abraxas snorted. “You’re both idiots.”
Antony and Alphard looked his way.
He shook his head. “Uncle Ambrose didn’t threaten Larliesl with pulling any donations. Larliesl was never even going to force you to attend summer school. They both just wanted to watch the pair of you stress and scramble.” He sipped his drink in satisfaction.