Chapter Five #3
My whole body trembles with yearning. I press myself flush against him, wind my arms around his neck, skim my shaking fingers along the sharp slant of his jaw.
Craving a closeness that is not mine to claim.
Pressing hard against his chest, as if physical proximity might somehow also permit me into the chambers of the heart beating within.
And yet, even in this moment, when I would happily throw all caution to the wind in favor of the less logical emotions thrumming through my body…When I would cast aside all my restraint, strip off any inhibitions along with my clothing…
Pendefyre rediscovers his own.
As I move closer, I can feel him retreating.
His kisses slowing, his ironclad control supplanting the passion igniting in my very veins.
My fingers dig into his shoulders, desperate to keep him, but I cannot.
The tighter I try to hold, the faster he slips away.
I feel the flames between us doused by harsh reality, the lust extinguished with a grim efficiency that leaves me clammy with cold.
He shutters the bond between us at the same instant his mouth breaks away. For no longer than a heartbeat, he allows his forehead to rest against mine. Then his arms unwind and he takes a purposeful stride backward.
That single step wounds me like a sword strike to the stomach.
He regards me with an expressionless mask—one that is all too familiar. The only sign he’s at all affected by the kiss is in the teeth-grinding tightness of his jaw. The curl of his fists as they drop to his sides. And, perhaps, in the slight tremor in his voice when he speaks.
“The fymandridae have fled home. It’s time we do as well. A storm is rolling in off the sea. We don’t want to be here when it breaks.”
I nod, for lack of a real response.
There is nothing more to say.
There is everything to say.
We walk in silence, our footsteps pulping the salt deposits.
The sulfuric pools littered around us are dark now, steaming gray vats that reflect the overcast sky.
With each passing moment, the air thickens with the promise of a downpour.
By the time we reach Onyx, who is waiting dutifully beneath a scraggly tree exactly where we left him, the clouds are so black and ominous, it will take a miracle to make it back to Caeldera without getting drenched.
I hardly care. The idea of getting back on a horse, riding pressed close to Penn’s chest for the next several hours when I can still taste him like blood in my mouth, while my skin still tingles from his touch, seems like a torture designed especially for me by the gods.
The thought of a slow plod back to his city—back to a future that holds nothing but frigid civility and staunch self-restraint—seems the cruelest twist of fate I can conjure.
I feel, quite suddenly, that the star by which I have guided my life these past months since I came to Dyved has flickered out, leaving me alone in the darkness. My feet cease their approach without any cognizant decision to stop walking.
“Come,” Penn orders flatly, gathering the reins in his hand. “Get on the horse.”
In the distance, thunder rumbles.
I swallow hard. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“Just what I said. I’m not going.”
“I do not have time for this. We need to get back. We’ve been away too long already. I have a meeting with the southern division leaders at dusk.”
“Go, then,” I say, feeling obstinate. “I’ll find my own way.”
Surely there is an inn nearby. A town where I can hire a horse of my own, or beg the aid of a kindly farmer who might let me hitch a ride on his capital-bound cart…Anything, to avoid getting back on Onyx in this moment.
Penn dashes my hopes in an instant. “This stretch of coast is desolate. There’s not a single settlement for leagues.”
Of course. That would be too easy.
“We are a four-hour ride from Caeldera,” he continues flatly. “A full day’s walk.”
I confess, I do not much fancy an hours-long slog through the elements. My obstinance falters, my hope with it. Avoiding his eyes, my own sweep our immediate vicinity for another option. They widen slightly when I spot it on the other side of the pools, practically shimmering in welcome.
I look back at Penn. “I’ll use the portal.”
“Do not be reckless simply to spite me. You have never traveled by portal alone.”
My teeth clench. “And?”
“Must you always be so oppositional?”
The thunder rumbles closer. “You and I have been bickering since the first moment we met. I see no reason to change that now. Not when everything else is to stay the same between us.”
Penn runs his hands through his hair, tousling the sun-streaked strands. “I am not fighting with you about this. Not again.”
“Again? You never fight about it at all! You merely shut it down. Then, you shut me out.”
“I have no other choice.”
My laugh is wintry. “There is always a choice. Perhaps not an easy one—but I have never asked for easy.”
“Easy? You think this is easy for me? You think any of my choices are easy?” His words lift to a bellow.
His eyes leap with fire as his fury rears its ugly head.
“Gods, Rhya. Yale may be a consummate bastard, but he’s right about one thing.
When it comes to you, I cannot think straight.
Cannot see straight. I cannot see anything but you.
And that does no one any good—not you, not me, least of all my kingdom. ”
Something inside my chest crumbles to dust, pulverized by the devastating blow of his words. In my head, Yale’s insidious whisper haunts me.
I hope she was worth it. For her, you forsook your kingdom. For her, you abandoned your people.
“So, he was right.” I expel a fractured breath. “You see me as a liability.”
Penn’s jaw tightens. “I never said that.”
“Not in so many words. Forgive me if I do not rejoice in being described as a distraction to all you hold dear.” My mind is suddenly spinning twice its normal speed, a match for the mad patter of my pulse.
Beneath the strain of its frantic beats, my heart feels as though it is cracking into pieces—and, with it, everything I have come to know about my place in this world.
The one at Pendefyre’s side.
“Rhya, just get on the horse.”
“He said what happened on Fyremas was my fault,” I whisper, as though he has not spoken. “That everyone blames me. That you blame me.”
“I do not blame you. But—”
“But?”
He takes a shuddering breath. His brief pause is a fresh torment. “I will not lie to you in saying I have never considered the possibility that…”
“That what?”
“Maybe if I had been here instead of the Midlands, I would’ve—” He shakes his head. Swallows the words. Begins anew. “Maybe, once I returned, if I had been less distracted by—”
He does not finish the sentence. He does not need to; I read his intention in the silence, and finish it for him.
“By me.” My voice is hollow.
A muscle leaps in his cheek as he works to control his emotions. He says nothing—either unwilling or unable to share his feelings on the subject. Holding me at arm’s length.
As he always has.
As he always will.
Lightning splits the sky overhead as the storm finally breaks, a loud boom of thunder directly on its heels. I do not bother looking up at the bolts that streak over the sea as I turn my back on Penn and start walking toward the portal. Rain falls in a deluge, soaking me instantly to the skin.
“Rhya!” he yells over another guttural rumble of thunder. “Wait!”
I do not wait.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from here.”
Away from you.
As I move, a small voice in the back of my mind pipes up that this is childish, that bolting from Penn’s presence will not lessen the lash of his words.
I silence that voice with a ruthless headshake.
The urge to flee, now, this very moment, has overridden any sense of logic that might normally guide my actions.
I increase my pace as I close the gap between me and the archway of stone. When I reach it, I pause to look back at him. He is six paces away, standing rigid with tension. His expression is even darker than the storm that looms overhead.
“What I said before…” He shakes his head swiftly. “You must know, I did not mean…”
“I know exactly what you meant, Pendefyre.” My voice wobbles.
I steady it, along with my shoulders. “Without me around, you might have seen the Reaver disaster coming and moved to prevent it. You cannot forgive yourself for letting me into your heart—not at the sake of your beloved self-possession.” My ragged inhale is rife with pain.
“More, you cannot forgive me. For it was on me that Efnysien set his sights that night. It was me who spurred him into action. I am the spark that lit the fire…and now your home is naught but ashes.”
He pales as I speak the words, but he does not contradict them.
Lightning flashes again, splitting the sky. Thunder booms a ferocious response. I can no longer tell if the wetness of my cheeks is from the rain or my own grief.
Reaching out, I bring my palm down on the sharp edge of one of the slate rocks.
Blood spurts with a sudden slice of pain.
It drips down the lengths of my fingers as I lift them into the middle of the archway.
The portal activates instantly, a flood of pure daylight emanating from it.
Tendrils of maegic reach out toward me, urging me forward.
I resist for a moment—just long enough to glance back at Penn.
He is stock-still, watching me. His hair is plastered against his head, his saturated clothing steaming faintly as his immense body heat evaporates the cold water that continues to cascade from the clouds.
“Don’t follow me,” I tell him in a choked voice.
Then, I step through.