Chapter 31 #2
I mounted, gripping Mathis’s hand tightly. “No promises,” I said, and for the first time in weeks, the smile stretching my face felt genuine. “I have a wedding to stop.”
I nudged Arion into a gallop, retracing the route I’d taken out of my family lands over a month ago. As soon as the manor was out of sight and we found the main road, she slowed to a trot, and we made our way steadily west.
I would take the Angevine Bridge. I’d had enough of Fae trickery and malice to last a lifetime, with no desire to experience it again anytime soon.
The longer ride would give me time to think of what I’d say.
And, as another first in three weeks, I enjoyed the warmth of the afternoon sun on my shoulders.
It was no longer a harbinger of doom and loss.
I considered simply bursting through Owlhorn’s doors and declaring my undying love, but Wroth already knew I loved him.
I might simply claim the Tower of Waves and refuse to leave.
All the plans I considered were positively foolish, but I was also strangely inclined to challenge Esteri lai Auvray to a duel.
But as the sun gave way to dusk and mist began to creep over the fields, tattered veils clinging to the road before me, I wondered if I was wrong. What could I really do, besides embarrass myself by demanding he put off the wedding? I would be laughed out of the castle.
Arion’s shoes threw sparks as the gelding stepped on a brick set with iron inlay. The Angevine Bridge was just ahead.
I shook my head, torn from my daydreams of beating Esteri with a stick, and saw that we were close to full dark. The mist was illuminated by the moon, silvery clouds roiling above the earth, just enough to see by.
Enough to make it to Owlhorn. Worst case, I’d set up camp on the other side of the bridge, and carry on before dawn.
We passed the sign for the bridge, and the bridge became clear as the gelding mounted the slight rise. It was wide, the short walls set with decorative crenellations, and I guided Arion down the middle, not wishing to look in the water.
And with the mist growing thick enough that it would soon be a proper fog, I kept feeling like I was seeing forms in the mist. There was no one else here; unusual for the Angevine.
It wasn’t until we were halfway over the bridge that I realized the form I’d taken for a will o’ wisp in the distance was, in fact, a solid, flesh and blood person.
We drew closer, and I sucked in a breath, seeing the paleness of their hair, their height…I halted Arion, my heart thrumming with hope.
Wroth strode through the mist, his dark blue coat hanging open, watching the ground before him as he walked. He stopped at the sound of Arion’s hooves, looked up, and stared back at me.
I slid from the saddle on numb legs, wondering if I was asleep or imagining things.
I walked across the bridge, meeting him in the precise middle, and gazed up at him.
“Am I dreaming?” I asked seriously, not daring to touch him. He was a wraith in the mist, the pale vapor wreathing him entirely, but those eyes…they glowed with brilliant light, fully alive.
“If you’re dreaming, so am I.” The wraith reached for me, solid, warm hands closing around my waist.
I exhaled all my breath in a rush, wrapping my arms around him and breathing in that comforting, pine and snow scent I craved.
The short, fine fur on his chest was soft under my cheek, my heart matching the slow, steady thump of his own.
For a long time, I was content to merely stand there, surrounded by him, caged by his arms.
“I wasn’t ready to give you up.”
His hand splayed over my back, pressing me against him hard enough that we could almost become one. “Nor I. But things change.”
“What do you mean?” I whispered, fear tightening in my stomach. I looked up at him, my breath caught in my throat.
Wroth chuckled, the rumble echoing in my bones. “I’ve committed terrible treachery to get what I want.”
He released me, and the coldness of the mist rushed in, stealing the heat he’d left behind. There was a terrible moment when I feared he would tell me it was all over, that he’d married Esteri, that this was simply a final goodbye.
“I’ve become a villain for you, Jesamin, and I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.
” Wroth lowered himself to one knee, barely looking up at me even while kneeling.
“I’ve blackmailed, bribed, spied, lied, and forced the hands of men to bring me to this moment.
I twisted their arms until they broke, merely to change a single line of the Accords. ”
My heart stuttered, my pulse rising to a gallop.
“Let them hate me, so long as I have you.” His fangs flashed white as he grinned. “There is no hell I wouldn’t walk through to find you, nor a crime I wouldn’t commit to make you mine. Everything I’ve lived through was simply the crucible to prepare me for the moment I met you.”
He took my hand, holding it hesitantly as he ran his thumb over my scarred knuckles.
“I took you at your word,” he said quietly. “I trusted you. Now will you take my hand, and trust in me?”
It was impossible to pull air into my lungs. I was severed from the earth itself, lost in a world in which he was the only thing anchoring me to reality.
I wrapped my fingers around his, squeezing tightly. “Forever,” I promised fervently, kissing him hard and feeling the familiar sharp sting of fangs. “You are everything I’ve waited for.”
Wroth exhaled, relaxing, and I sensed in the simple motion of his muscles untensing that he’d feared a different answer. He got to his feet, picking me up and spinning us around to face Owlhorn, and clicked his tongue for Arion to follow.
“We camp here tonight, because I can’t wait for another damn minute,” he growled, sending agreeable shivers through me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, peppering kisses all over his jaw and murmuring in concurrence. Camping sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world.
My obedient horse clopped along after him, and we found the empty clearing used by traveling merchants, the firepit still warm from yesterday’s ashes. Wroth set me down near a pack he’d clearly left behind.
Nobody else was here, thank the Light. I didn’t want any sort of audience for what I intended.
“I was going to fight a duel for you,” I said, unclasping the saddlebags once I’d hobbled Arion. He would have good grazing on this side of the river; he was already inching away, eyeing a stand of juicy grass.
Wroth turned around from laying out a bedroll, giving me the incredulous look I had missed so terribly. “What?”
A breathless laugh of disbelief escaped me. “I was heading to Owlhorn to duel Esteri. Maybe I really did go a little insane.”
He stared at me. “My gods, I should’ve let you come to me. I would pay my weight in gold to see that.”
“It was a ridiculous thought.” I knew I was turning crimson, but Wroth’s laugh wasn’t at my expense. “But…I was furious with her for being…her.”
I looked at the bedroll he’d spread out, identical to the one I’d left Below. It was brand new, clearly fresh from storage, but I clenched the hand that wore a ring made of the old one’s threads.
To hell with Esteri. I wore the threads of the first bed we shared, his scars on my throat. He was mine and I was his, and any anger and envy I felt toward the other woman finally evaporated.
Wroth took my hand, leading me to the bed before he began to build up the fire.
“You are all I have ever wanted,” he told me, as the crackling flames lit our little camp with golden light. “Even after we agreed to part…I couldn’t have let you go. I would’ve found a way.”
I smiled, already unbuttoning my shirt. “Thank the gods you’re such a crook,” I teased.
A rumbling purr emanated from his chest as we peeled each others’ clothes away, and Wroth untied my braid and ran his fingers through the waves.
He sat me on his lap, stroking me all over until I felt his handprints had been scorched into my skin. We explored slowly, kissing, touching, simply happy to feel each other.
“Is there any chance…?” he started to ask, eyes moving over my body, but I shook my head.
Not that he would be able to tell this early, but I had received my moon’s blood the second week home.
I’d been full of relief that I wouldn’t be carrying the bastard child of a fiend who could have nothing to do with me, alongside a strange grief that all I would ever have of Wroth were the scars he’d left behind.
“No. As soon as I’m able I'll have a sanguimancer inscribe a womb-lock on me, but for now, I’ve brought the not-yet herbs.” I nodded to the saddlebags. “I’m…unsure how I feel about it. There’s still so much to see and do.”
“As long as I have you...” He pulled me closer, my back to his chest. “I will follow your desires. We have forever to decide what we want.”
His hands rested heavy on my shoulders, then he moved my hair aside and kissed the back of my neck. My flesh rose in goosebumps, prickling with the nearness of him.
He moved slowly, exploring me with fingertips, claws grazing my skin and leaving faint red lines behind. He cupped my breasts, kneading until my nipples went hard, and slipped lower.
With the delicacy of a fiend armed with claws, he slipped his fingers between my nether lips, gliding over my clit to find I was already wet and willing.
“Let me tie us together,” he said huskily, breath warm on my neck. “You have the tea, and I wish to see you knotted and filled with my seed.”
A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, the heat roiling in my belly becoming a blaze. “Gods, yes. I’ve been waiting forever.”
He chuckled despite himself. “You’ve been waiting for three weeks.”
“In mortal time, three weeks is an eternity.”
“Now that you’re mine, you have all the time in the world.” Wroth picked me up gently, turning me to settle in his lap. His muscles were tight, his cock already hard, but the knot hadn’t yet swollen.