Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SNOWFALL
We return to the coach just before sunrise. I go straight to my room, close the door and sit on my bed with my knees hugged to my chest.
Michael is here.
It shouldn’t mean anything. He walked away. He didn’t trust me. He chose his brothers over me. I’m with Joaquin now.
So, what in darkness happened when he knelt before me?
I flop back on the bed, covering my face with my hands. Oh God. How can I possibly have him as my lieutenant? My mother’s warning rolls through my mind. We’re more alike than you think. Maybe I should just choose Deryck and deal with the fallout afterwards.
My phone buzzes. I grab it, hoping it’s Sophie. Perhaps she’ll have some advice on how to handle this. But it’s a message from an unknown number.
Meet me outside. Near the rocks.
My first reaction is to tell him where to shove it.
Because of course it’s Michael. It’s light outside and everyone else here is a vampire, unless some random blood dancer has managed to get my number.
But something in my chest seems to tug at me, telling me I need to do this.
Maybe it’s a good opportunity to talk, with no one else around.
Darkness knows I’d like the chance to scream at him. Sighing, I reply.
Fine.
I shrug on my jacket, shove my feet into boots, then head downstairs.
My reaction meant nothing. It was the shock of seeing him, that’s all.
I’ve shut down the Challenge, I’m two nights into my Anointing, I have a hot new vampire boyfriend, and I’m going to sort this out too.
Emelia Raven, getting shit done. I should get it on a sweatshirt.
‘I’m going outside.’ My parents, playing cards with Varin, look up, my mother’s mouth an ‘o’ of surprise. ‘Need some air.’ I wait until they’re at a safe distance to open the door, stepping out quickly, gasping as I’m hit by a blast of cold air.
It’s snowing. Fat feathery flakes of white, twirling and dancing in the dawn light, the strange yellow-grey of a snow-filled sky. It’s starting to settle, lining the rocks with silver, the dark mass of forest below crowned with white like a wave breaking against the hillside.
It’s beautiful, the way snow blankets the world.
Making it quieter, smoothing out the rough edges, hiding the flaws.
I perch on a rock, staring out across the trees.
It’s as though the snow is soothing me, too, like ice-cream for my soul.
I catch a few flakes, watching them melt against the warmth of my skin, their tiny, intricate designs lost for ever.
‘Hey.’
I jump, my head whipping around. Michael stands a few feet away, hands in pockets, wearing jeans and one of his frayed jumpers that I know are so soft to touch, his broad shoulders even more so under a leather jacket.
My resolve melts like the snowflakes on my hand. It’s hard to breathe.
I wait, though. Let him speak first, then I can decide where to take this. I keep my expression neutral, but my heart beats wildly, traitor that it is.
He sits next to me, bracing his hands against the rock. And it’s heaven and hell combined to be so close to him again, to smell his familiar scent, see those beautiful eyes turned on me. I have to clench my fist to stop myself reaching for him.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I should never have treated you the way I did.’
‘No, you shouldn’t.’ Keeping cool, like the snow.
Trying to hide my breaking parts, my angry flaws.
I watch the rapidly whitening landscape, my every sense on high alert.
The cold grit of stone beneath my clenched fists, the endless dark mass of trees disappearing beneath a veil of white, the twisting dance of the snowflakes.
The warmth of the man next to me. And the fact I can’t touch him.
‘You should have told me about my father.’ The pain in his voice cuts me.
‘I know.’ I can’t change that now. I can admit where I went wrong, though. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t. I just … couldn’t find the words.’
‘I understand.’
‘You do?’ I look at him, then.
Gods. It takes my breath away. One corner of his mouth is quirked up, his blue-grey eyes warm. There’s snow in his hair, a flake caught on his long eyelashes. I remind myself of him snarling at me in a tiny bathroom. Of how hurt I was when he walked away.
‘Your trust had been broken, and badly,’ he says. ‘We hadn’t known each other long. But Emelia, I meant what I said to you, that morning on the beach. I am with you. You can trust me. And I’m more sorry than you know that I ever let you go.’
He takes my hand, twining his fingers through mine. I pull it back. Hurt flashes in his gaze.
But he’s right. I have had my trust broken. By Kyle. But also by him. And there are other people I need to consider.
‘What about the Challenge?’ My voice is shaky. ‘You must know about that.’
‘I didn’t find out until I went back to my brothers. I tried to call you and couldn’t get through. Went back to the house, hoping to find you, but you were already gone. Damn, you are ruthless.’ He grins. Fuck. My heart opens in response.
‘I was hurt. And didn’t want to prolong it. The Challenge is over, anyway.’
‘I know. Well done, by the way.’
‘Well done? I did what I had to do. Though your brothers are still trying it on.’
He snorts. ‘Why didn’t you remind me what utter, complete arseholes they are?’
I laugh, unable to help it. ‘What?’
‘They’re idiots. I hate them. They used to torment me incessantly when I lived at home. Why on earth I thought they might have changed I don’t know.’
‘I can understand why. They’re charming when they want something. Until they get it.’
‘Is that what you think of me, as well?’
‘No.’
Silence falls between us. My throat feels thick with unspoken words, about all the ways he’s not like his brothers, about what seeing him is doing to me.
‘What do you think?’ There’s a thread of vulnerability, of yearning in his voice.
‘Of you?’ I swallow. ‘I … I don’t know.’
‘Really? Because I think of you a lot, E. I miss you.’
‘Why are you here?’ I conveniently ignore the way my core heated at his words. ‘I think of you a lot.’ I need to remember my mother’s warning. My lieutenant is all he can be.
‘In this field? Or at the Gathering?’
I’m reminded of Joaquin, in a darkened garden. The same question, and a similar response. But my heart didn’t ache in anticipation of his answer, like it does for Michael’s.
‘Both. You said you didn’t want to be part of my world. Yet here you are, standing with your brothers as though they didn’t just try to take my throne.’
‘I’m here because they tried to take your throne,’ he says, his gaze intent on me. ‘Because of that letter they sent. Do you truly think I would have let either of them near you? Do you not know that I would do anything to keep you safe?’
Oh. Oh darkness. Realisation crashes over me. He knew I had to choose a ‘son of Mistral’. And he showed up because he knew, out of the three of them, he was the only one who wouldn’t try and murder me at the earliest opportunity. My mouth opens and closes.
‘And you’re okay with that? Being my lieutenant?’
He nods, one corner of his mouth curving. ‘What choice do I have?’
‘You didn’t have to get involved.’ I don’t know why I feel so annoyed. ‘I’m the one with no choice, if I want to avoid civil war.’
‘Oh, you think I’d just step aside? Leave you to my brothers’ tender mercies? You might hate me, Emelia, but I would never do that to you.’
‘I don’t hate you.’
‘No?’ His stormy gaze holds me. ‘Because it doesn’t feel as though you like me much.’
Oh, that is it. ‘What the hell am I supposed to do, Michael? You walked out of my life, then suddenly you reappear, full of apologies, and say you shouldn’t have done it! Maybe I’ve moved on!’
‘With who?’ His lip curls. ‘That big vampire on the dais last night, acting as though he owned you?’
Guilt stabs at me. ‘‘What the hell is your problem?’
His brow lowers. ‘My problem is that I fucked up! I let you go, and I want you back!’ He takes my hands again. I pull them back. ‘I know you feel what’s between us. I saw it in your face last night. We’re meant to be together!’
‘As my lieutenant. That’s it!’ We’re almost nose to nose and, despite how I want to rip his face off, there’s a treacherous part of me that wants to sink into him. To kiss him, wild, rolling in the snow, not caring who sees us.
‘That’s it? Tell me that’s all you want from me. I want to hear you say it.’
We stare at each other, breathing hard. Then I spot something, over his shoulder, moving among the trees below us. It looks like a person, clad in black from head to toe. They’re oddly bulky, yet light on their feet. ‘Who the hell is that?’ I point.
Michael tenses. ‘Fuck. Put your arm down. Slowly. And try not to move.’ His voice is close to my ear.
‘But why would humans be—’
‘Not humans.’