CHAPTER NINETEEN #2
He leaned back a fraction, and I had to stop myself from tilting forward in response, instinctively drawn to his warmth.
Idly, Corvin picked at a feather on his cloak.
He was thinking. “You’re right—I haven’t been able to tell you much about myself.
But I’ve never lied to you. What would you want to know?
Is there something I could tell you that would convince you to trust me? ”
“Tell me something honest about yourself. Tell me for real—what would you scream about, given the chance?”
He looked at me sideways. “I’m beginning to feel I should give up dinner parties.
I don’t know that I feel much of a need to scream about it though.
” His comment drew a short laugh and a smile from me, but I kept my gaze locked onto his—I wasn’t going to let him off the hook that easy.
“What else?” I pressed. “There has to be something you’d be better off without.
Maybe a bad habit? When you think about the future, what would you like to be different? ”
“I don’t spend much time thinking about the future; I’m too afraid of what it holds.”
“Then let’s release your fear,” I said on a sharp intake of breath. “Leave it behind, right here in this meadow. If you have secrets, then let me keep one for you. Why are you afraid of the future? You want me to trust you? Trust me. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Corvin was silent for a moment, regarding me.
When he spoke, his voice was quiet. “I’m afraid I will wreck what my parents spent their lifetime building.
That when it matters, I won’t measure up.
I’m afraid my father will die before I’m ready to lead.
That without him, it will all be meaningless anyway.
Most of all, I’m afraid that everything is about to change.
And that I might be a bad person because I secretly wish that it wouldn’t.
” He let out a heavy sigh like he’d temporarily forgotten to breathe. “How was that?”
I reached for Corvin’s hand, holding it soothingly in mine. “I don’t know what you’re facing, but I do know I’ve trusted you with my life several times now. You can do it. Whatever it is. I think that when it matters, you’ll find you measure up just fine.”
“You’re next,” he whispered, squeezing my hand in return.
I didn’t think I had it in me to offer him what he had just offered me.
To be so vulnerable, to share so much. My fears were locked somewhere deep down inside me.
Somewhere dark. Somewhere I didn’t care to look, lest they consume me completely.
“I’m afraid…I’m afraid that I will never figure out how to be the Midnight Sovereign.
That maybe helping people isn’t as important to me as feeling like I matter.
Like somebody needs me. It’s been a long time since anybody needed me. ”
I withdrew my hand from his, looking down, absentmindedly plucking at a few blades of grass and trying to subdue the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
Gently, Corvin lifted my chin, staring at me with such tenderness that I couldn’t help but resume speaking, the words tumbling out, unable to be contained now that I’d started to let them free.
“I’m afraid of being alone.” My voice wavered, thick with emotion.
“I’m afraid that something about me is unlovable.
That maybe there’s a reason nobody ever wanted to adopt me from the orphanage.
That if I had been a better substitute, my mentor Kaylin wouldn’t have needed another family to feel complete. That she wouldn’t have left me behind.”
Still staring into my eyes, Corvin’s face was earnest. “Anyone would be lucky to love you, Elvira. And I might not know much, but I know you’re going to be the greatest Midnight Sovereign this realm has ever seen. I’d stake my life on it.”
Another dance was just starting as we finished confessing our fears.
“I want to dance with you,” I said impulsively.
“To scream. And release our fears. Do you want to dance with me too?” I started to sway, unable to sit still, the drum’s percussion thrumming through me, and around me, and within me.
I felt infinitely lighter somehow than I ever had before, like my body had been carrying around a heavy tether, which I’d only just removed.
And I wanted to move. And feel. I didn’t need to think. Not right now. That could come later.
Corvin stood up, offering me his hand. “Yes, Elvira.”
“I have no training,” I warned him, accepting his hand.
He grinned, mischief and laughter playing across his face. “I don’t think this dance has any rules.”
We walked over to join the dancing. I didn’t know if I could truly release my fears, but here, right now, I was willing to try.
“May I?” Corvin asked, his hand lingering in a gesture of uncertainty.
My backless gown meant he’d be touching me.
I nodded, and he rested his hand on the center of my back.
Boldly, I guided it down until his fingers flexed intimately against my lower back instead.
I let him pull me close, our bodies becoming one.
And maybe it was the beat of the drum unlocking some wild, hidden place within me, but we moved together with the reckless abandon the dance demanded.
At times, I twirled away from him, but the dance always took me back, my body reluctant to give up any of the places where his body touched mine.
Soon, I could feel the dance building to its first scream. A subdued shout escaped my lips as the music peaked. Corvin’s lips brushed against my ear. “Come on, Elvira. You can scream louder than that.”
And he was right. So I let myself go, let myself be swept into the dance, until I could no longer tell the difference between the beat of my heart and the beat of the drum.
“Then lift me,” I rasped in a husky command, no longer recognizing my own voice.
An almost predatory grin split his face.
“Happily.” His hands around my waist, Corvin raised me higher.
The thudding of the drum grew wilder, wilder, wilder until—
I tossed my head back—a powerful, feral scream ripping from my throat, all inhibitions gone. Moments later, Corvin’s scream answered mine, our voices intermingling together in the air, a perfect, harmonious match.