Chapter 68 #3
Raye swallowed and shook her head against him, while tears pricked behind her eyes.
“I’m sorry, too,” she whispered back. “I told you I wanted us to be honest with each other, when I still wasn’t being honest with you.
And then I ran off alone and did all this, and you had to kill all those men, and maybe we’ve still started another war —”
Her voice cracked, the fear quivering through her body, but Kalfr drew her closer, as Gaelfr’s arms tightened around them both. “I ken we have not,” Gaelfr said firmly. “And this is all thanks to you, saeta. To your strength, and bravery, and wisdom.”
What? Raye drew back to frown at him, but his eyes were intent, holding steady on her face. “You found our son,” he continued. “You saved him from our enemies. And then you found a way to save us, also. You freely took all the blame for these deaths upon yourself, so it would not fall upon us.”
Raye rapidly blinked her stinging eyes, and shook her head. “But… they could still realize two bodies are missing,” she countered. “Or find the tunnel underneath. They could still realize it was a trick, and blame you, instead of me.”
But Kalfr glanced up the tunnel, toward where Soren and William were now both shovelling earth up toward the hole. As if they were blocking the tunnel, from beneath.
“I do not expect they will find the tunnel,” Kalfr said, with a wry half-smile. “And it shall not be an easy matter to find and count bodies now, either, ach, Gael?”
Gaelfr huffed a satisfied grunt, and Raye fought down the various unpleasant visions of what they could have done, to ensure such an outcome. “Though it should have been easier, saeta,” Gaelfr said, with a light slap to Raye’s arse, “if you had just killed this fool woman, and been done with it.”
There wasn’t any true condemnation in his voice, but Raye winced all the same.
“I could have,” she said. “Especially with all your training, Gael, and this lovely sword you gave me. But” — she winced again, toward Kalfr this time — “she told me that apparently you swore you’d try to help her, and do your best for her.
I wasn’t sure if she was just lying again, but if it was true, I didn’t want to break your vow. ”
She gave him a complicated-feeling smile — surely it wasn’t a promising sign if she was helping Kalfr keep his vows to help other women, right?
But genuine chagrin flashed across Kalfr’s eyes, twisting at his mouth.
“Ach,” he rasped. “Mayhap I… I did. I did not vow this before the goddess, so I had — fully forgotten this. I am — sorry. Again.”
His eyes flicked up toward Gaelfr, too, his mouth still twisting. Clearly knowing what this sounded like, that he’d made a promise — even if it wasn’t before the goddess — to someone else, without them. A promise that might circle around, and hurt them.
But Gaelfr’s eyes on Kalfr were mild, unsurprised, and his hand gripped the back of his neck, giving it a firm little shake. “We are not in the least surprised by this, ástin mín,” he said. “You are always too generous, and too clever for your own good, also.”
Kalfr blinked back at him, and Gaelfr shot a sideways glance toward Sybil.
“As irksome as this human is,” he said, “she was also close to this Lord Nash, ach? The man who yet wishes to wage war against us, and make himself king of the realm? She shall therefore be of much use, I ken, and have much to tell us.”
Sybil was of course still listening to all this, and had begun sputtering something about never telling them anything about Nash, as long as she lived — but Gaelfr entirely ignored her, and drew Kalfr’s head forward for a slow, messy kiss, their teeth scraping, tongues tangling.
“Only let her stew in her bond for a spell, I ken,” he murmured with satisfaction as he drew away, licking at his lips.
“Whilst we keep you well away from her, and all to ourselves.”
Kalfr licked his lips too, his eyes glimmering with warmth and gratitude on Gaelfr’s face.
As if he wasn’t at all opposed to this plan, despite all the ways they’d fought with each other, all the bitter truths they’d learned.
Though when his eyes found Raye again, the warmth slowly faded, in place of a searching concern, and a sad, earnest smile.
“But you may not be so forgiving, Raye,” he said. “Not after all you have already suffered from us. And I should not blame you, should you wish to —”
But he was interrupted by Gaelfr’s loud, disapproving growl. “No,” he snapped. “I have borne this long enough. So long as I live, you two will not part yourselves from each other again. Now kiss.”
Raye couldn’t help a laugh, a rueful smile up toward Kalfr’s face.
He was smiling too, his eyes flickering with relief, and Raye could almost taste the understanding rising between them, smoothing some of those old hurts away.
Because — they both wanted Gaelfr to barge in, and maybe they always had, all this time.
They’d both wanted him to shove past all their griefs and fears and stubbornness, and push them back together again.
Gaelfr growled again, his strong hand curving against the back of Raye’s head, pushing her toward Kalfr — and pushing Kalfr toward her, too.
And there was an instant where Raye laughed again, giddy and delighted, but then Kalfr’s lips were on hers, his own hands cradling her head too, drawing her in.
And his kiss was like nothing else Raye had ever tasted, deep and rich and devastatingly thorough, as if drinking her from the bottom up, as if he’d never stopped dreaming of her either, as if he could never, ever get enough.
Raye kissed back just as hard and hungry, wrapping her arms around him, and her legs, too. Just needing to get closer, to drink him up in return, to crawl inside his skin. Her mate had come back, he’d saved her, he was hers. He had always, always been hers.
But Gaelfr had always been part of this, too, and when Raye and Kalfr finally pulled apart, both panting and breathless, Raye next turned toward Gaelfr, and drew him in, too.
And in contrast, his kiss was soft, careful, surprisingly sweet, as if he still didn’t quite know his place in this, and she met his eyes when she pulled back again, drawing up all the honesty and truth she could hold.
“Thank you, Gael,” she whispered. “For this beautiful sword, and the lovely letter you wrote me, and all your training and your gifts and your support. For all your care for me, and your faith in me. And I…”
She drew in breath, stroked both hands at his face. “I love you, Gael,” she whispered. “We both do. So will you please, finally, stay with us? For good?”
Gaelfr blinked back at her, once — but then he smiled. So swift and broad and stunning, his eyes shining with rapt, reverent awe, as though the goddess herself had descended, and offered him the realm’s greatest gift.
“Ach, saeta,” he whispered. “I will.”