Chapter 13 #4
“And when have you ever kept such a vow? Our entire association has been one humiliation after another for me. First, you conveniently omit mention of your cousin’s beasts.
Then you vow to kill them before we reach Aureum.
But they’re not dead, Theron! You say you will, but only at some far-off, unspecified date when you feel more secure with your court.
That could be months! Years! And to pour salt in a gaping wound, you not only call me mad, but you’re entertaining the prospect of taking another woman as a wife.
Tell me, Theron, at what point would you lose faith in someone who treated you this way?
Why am I expected to endlessly forgive you when you keep cutting me to the bone? ”
Her accusations hurt all the more for the truth in them.
He did expect her to forgive him, no matter how many times he’d hurt her.
And yet besides her initial betrayal, she had been honourable with him.
She’d given her trust, yet through both action and inaction, he’d betrayed her.
Maybe their relationship was hopeless. But he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.
“We are tied by Fate and Passion, Aurora. Our meeting was always meant to happen. What we feel was tested by a goddess and found true. When we began our journey to Aureum, I was furious with you for your betrayal. But a wise woman told me that such fated pairings only happen for a reason. I have to believe what we have has meaning. No one has ever cured madness, but for you I would do the impossible. I know that means nothing to you as you are, but I hope someday that it will.”
That only seemed to enrage her further, the fury in her misty eyes unmistakable.
“You thick-headed fool. If our relationship has a greater meaning, it was to change history—to destroy Drakon and all those like him before he kills millions of Trisians. I have already lost everyone precious to me. Everyone! My world is doomed unless I can kill Drakon in the here and now. What would you do to save the people you love, Theron? The impossible? I’m not even asking for that.
I’m begging you to do something well within your power.
If you can’t even do what is inconvenient, how do you expect me to believe you’re capable of the impossible? ”
If he thought she’d stung him with her words before, then this time she sank a blade directly into his heart.
She saw him as nothing more than a wretched liar who used his wiles to confuse her before he hurt her again and again.
This was not something that passion could solve.
Neither magic nor words could heal this hurt—only action.
And at every turn, his actions had told her that he could not be trusted, that he was without honour.
“Do you trust, at least, that I don’t wish you harm?” He released her, repelled by the idea she might think him capable of hurting her like that.
“Only the physical kind. You saved my life and healed me when you could have left me to die. Whatever your true reasons, I believe that. Beyond that? I have nothing to believe in,” she replied, getting to her feet and turning from him.
“My heart is yours, Aurora. Please, believe that,” Theron said, getting to his feet as she walked away from him.
“Maybe it is. But you don’t rule according to your heart, do you?” She skewered him with her green gaze.
“I can’t, Aurora. Kings who rule with their hearts rarely keep their heads.” He followed her. “And now, it is not just my own head I protect.”
“I see. Then you had best wed Lady Ino and sire heirs quickly.”
His nostrils flared. Theron grabbed her arm, stopping her.
“Why would you say such vile things?”
She glared pointedly at his hand. He released her as if burned.
“Because if my history books prove correct, the first cycle of calamity will be the death of you. I will do my utmost to save your life, but don’t expect me to forgive you—or to remain here for you.
If I succeed, I’m leaving. If you have even a shred of affection for me, you’ll let me go without a fuss. ”
There it was, her prediction of his death.
It was what she’d long intimated. It was the worry behind her eyes when she held him in esteem, and what turned her gaze into chips of ice when she despised him.
But this time she’d said it was something she’d read in a book of history—history that hadn’t yet happened.
It must be a product of the madness that gripped her, for not once had she called it a vision.
His death was not set in stone—not like this.
His demise was not something that concerned him.
Death came for everyone. But her leaving?
Theron clenched his fists. That he could not abide.
He would never countenance it. A part of him would die in her absence, and he was nothing if not a selfish man where she was concerned.
In this, he would always be her villain.
“That fight you wanted? I’ll give it to you.”
She frowned, confused for a moment before he stalked towards her. Then, she raised her chin defiantly.
“Kiss me like this is goodbye, King Theron.”
“Oh, I’ll kiss you, my little fairy.”
Theron pulled her to the ground, caging her with his body.
“But there will be no goodbyes.”
He captured her lips with his, tasting her defiance. She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him closer, arching her back.
“We are fated. My thread will chase yours across the Tapestry.”
He kissed her neck as his hand skated up under her gown and gripped her thigh.
“In this life.”
She gasped as his hand found her molten core.
“In the next.”
He reclaimed her lips as he ground the heel of his hand against her heat. She arched to meet him.
“Until the seas dry up,” he growled as he tore the neckline of her dress with his teeth.
“Theron,” she moaned as he slipped one of his fingers along her slick folds.
“Until the mountains are no more,” he vowed, taking in the sight of her hardened pink nipples bared to the light of day.
“Until the sun and stars go dark.”
He took her nipple between his teeth and gently tugged, gratified by her mewling. Her ragged breath urged him on.
“Until the Tapestry itself unravels.”
Theron slipped a finger inside her, groaning as her inner walls clamped down on him.
“Please,” she pleaded.
“You are mine and I am yours.”
Their lips met in a clash of desperate need as her hips invited him to go deeper.
“Theron!” she cried as he kissed her neck hard enough to leave his mark, giving her the first climax of many to come.
“Run all you like. I will always find you,” he vowed.
She gasped, stilling, her eyes searching his, her shock palpable. Gone were her undulating hips, her cries of pleasure. He withdrew his hand. Had he hurt her?
“Aurora?”
“Your Majesty!” Commander Nireus called from the entrance to the garden.
And with that interruption, the whole of the spell they’d woven over each other seemed to disappear into the ether.
“Nireus, not now,” Theron growled.
“Your Majesty, I’m afraid it can’t wait,” he called as his steps crunched on the gravel walkways, coming ever closer to their hidden little enclosure.
Aurora scrambled out from under him. Theron allowed her, much as he wished to discover what it was that had spooked her.
“This isn’t over, Aurora.”
She didn’t answer him, merely readjusted her clothes and sped off.
Her back was covered in green stains, her hair littered with twigs.
Theron got to his feet and watched her go, his eyes never straying.
When she neared the exit, she couldn’t help one look back at him.
That look gave him more hope than he dared admit.
Only when she was well and truly out of sight did he turn to the man in charge of his palace security with a great deal of ire. If he’d been doing his job, Lady Ino never would have gotten so close to his little fairy.
“What was so important that you interrupted your king, Commander Nireus?”
“A cleric has been found dead in the inner palace.”