Chapter 51
H er heart stumbled as much as her feet did. A minute, an hour, a lifetime later—she wasn’t certain—but the moment she ripped through Garrik’s shield in the High King’s mountain, her feet followed a familiar path, veering to the left, past the staircases leading to Garrik’s rooms.
Bow to her.
The words drove her from the balcony and chased her through the castle while every darkened corner and shadow begged her to stay. But she couldn’t . Though the court enjoyed the display of magic in the skies and listened to the incredible thunder crackling, it was Garrik’s voice thrumming in her mind.
You will never be her.
Alora gripped her chest—it wasn’t right. Something felt … unsteady.
You may be a princess, but she is a starsdamned queen.
In front of everyone, he had said it. Claimed her. Making certain the mountain knew as it trembled. And that cowardly part of her, hiding deep inside … the part she had thought she buried … it couldn’t handle it. The way he looked at her, splitting her wide open. But … but to surrender her heart to another after the last shattered it …
Mine. He said it again on that balcony. Mine. Mine. Mine ? —
The hallway darkened behind her, voiding out the faelights in only a way shadow could.
“Alora.” Something brittle in Garrik’s voice, something cleaved wide open and vulnerable, caused her heart to stumble again.
She turned to find shadows in his eyes. His jacket was unbuttoned, displaying the top of his chest and neck scar she’d daydreamed of running her fingers along. It appeared as if he had run his hands through his hair in a panic. But now, standing feet away in that hallway, he looked … more different from before. More like someone she’d known for centuries, not months.
“You left.” Garrik didn’t step an inch closer. He only whispered, “I looked for you.”
And stars, did she hate herself for doing it.
He’d been looking for her… Just as she would have.
When he opened his mouth, it was Alora’s voice that shook. “Please,” she breathed. “Don’t say anything more.”
Soundless pain flashed across his beautiful face.
They lingered there for more than a few heartbeats, staring at each other as if a new light had fallen. But the small, small part of her mind warred with her entire heart and beat it bruised and bloody until all she could do was back away toward her door. Tears in her eyes as she reached for the handle and restrained a strangled sob.
Tell him. Just say it, her heart pleaded, but her mind argued, You loved another once. Trusted him until it almost killed you.
The tears… The fear and warnings and every life-threatening thing poured from her making it hard to breathe. Giving her heart to another. Trusting someone to treat it tenderly and not leave it bloodstained again was the hardest thing she’d ever considered doing. Harder than holding a sword to the Savage Prince’s neck. Harder than ripping the air from lungs with starfire or dragging a Raven through a forest while wounded.
This. This felt like dying.
Smokeshadows gathered around her. So close—too close—Garrik stood, knowing he was there to catch her if she fell. A shadow-covered hand brushed the underside of her wrist as she clasped the door handle, pushed her forehead against the wood, and closed her eyes at his touch.
Turn around. Turn around, her heart screamed.
Garrik slowly turned the handle, offering an escape when she blurted, “Lie to me.” Please, lie to me, she sent to his mind because if she spoke another word, fear would sob from her lips.
A ringed palm delicately clasped her waist as the other moved to stroke her cheek and tilted her face to his.
“I hate you,” he lied. It wasn’t more than a painful whisper. He leaned in, lips brushing her shoulder. “I hate you,” he repeated, like trying to convince himself. Icy lips traveled to her neck and kissed again. “I hate you.”
Her traitorous legs quivered, closing her eyes.
Garrik rasped, “I have hated you far longer than you can imagine and will hate you until my dying breath. And then, forever after.”His lips brushed behind her ear. “I hate you with such an intensity it out-burns starfire. I hate that you are the light my darkness has longed for, for so long. You have stolen my nightmares and replaced them with dreams, and I hate you for it.
“I hate that, with you, I desire to not solely survive until this war is over and I can finally end my haunted soul, but to truly live because the thought of dying without getting to call you mine might kill me. And I hate, because of you, I do not desire death but wish for a future I do not deserve.”
The leash she kept containing her tears snapped. Her chest tightened to the point of pain.
Gently, he stroked a settling rhythm, wiping the tears that wouldn’t stop. Just as she’d done for him in the protection of his tent not long ago. On his darkest night, when he desperately wanted to die.
His head dipped, meeting her wet lips. Licking soothing sweeps, collecting every drop, one after another. Kissing her with promises he didn’t need to speak because the reminders were a ruthless flood. Of every careful touch. The way he’d wait and allow her to decide before he did anything. How all these months, he had been the one who waded through the ashes Kaine left her in. Sparked her dying embers to ignite.
“I hate you, Alora,” he repeated against her lips. His own trembled.
“I know,” she breathed with a quiver of hers before the handle turned and she pushed open the door, shutting it behind her. With barely an audible whisper, she lied, and murmured, “I hate you too.”
Alora rubbed her hands down her face when a shadow moved near her bathroom threshold.
A broken sob cracked from her mouth as Miwa stepped into the light. Those pearly-white wings tucked in tight, face critical, edging on something like sorrow, grief.
That cold shadow darkening her door had slipped away an hour ago like smoke in the wind.
Alora slid down the wood not long after. Now, her face twisted before she dove it into her palms and sobbed, “Why didn’t I say it? Why can’t I tell him?”
Miwa dropped to her knees and cupped Alora’s, but she didn’t get a chance to speak.
Alora cried, “I fell in love with a male who forced me to crawl through glass and then made me believe my blood staining the floor was my fault. That said he loved me, repeatedly, while he sunk a dagger deeper in my back and convinced me my prison kept me safe.” Blurry-eyed, she looked at Miwa. “But my High Prince… He broke the locks. Pulled the shattered pieces from my knees and carried me until I could stand. Crafted those pieces into a weapon so no male could ever do that to me again, all while teaching me to handle that dagger so I could stab it in Kaine’s memory.”
Then Miwa asked, “So, he finally admitted he loves you?”
She let out a sharp laugh, though it wasn’t humoring. “He told me he hated me.” And stars, she preferred that over the fake words of adoration and devotion from Kaine. “At least with the mighty prince, I know it’s a lie.”
A small, tragic smile before Miwa asked quietly, “Why don’t you say his name?”
Silence. Cold, damning silence.
Alora stared at the silver swirls of winter on her gown, not glistening half as polished and bright as her High Prince’s eyes. She picked at a loose thread, releasing a diamond onto the floor, but Miwa didn’t seem to mind much.
She’d asked herself that question for months. From the first time Garrik had toyed with her in their firesite, allowing—practically asking—her to say his name.
‘I should think that after the woods last night, you would call me Garrik.’
‘I think I’ll stick with mighty bastard instead.’
Meeting her maidservant’s tender stare, Alora admitted, “I didn’t say his name at first because I didn’t want to see him as someone I could know and trust.” Garrik’s smile. His beautiful and lovely, perfect smile flashed in her mind. She couldn’t stop the one growing on hers because of it. “Then, I couldn’t say it because I was afraid I’d fall in love with the way it sounded on my lips.”
“And now?”
Alora glanced into the darkness cloaking the mountain. At the star-gilded shadows dancing in the night sky. “And now I want to find him.” Her eyes drifted to Miwa. “And tell him…”
She could only think one thing as she stood, adjusted her crown, and opened the door.
The words she could never say.
I love him. I love him. I love him.
And spoke to the beautiful darkness that captured her soul, I love you, Garrik.