Chapter 46 #2
After the last stroke of cloth against her silken skin, she mirrored the act. Washing away the crusted sand that clung to dry blood on my face. With every brush of her hand there was a brush of her lips, kissing me gently. On my eyelids. The tip of my nose. My cheeks.
Every touch caused my heart to swell bigger, and I drew her closer. Once most of the muck of Oscuro had been washed away with the cloth, I filled the tub. When it was full I turned to her. “It’s warm. I’ll give you your privacy.”
I started to step away, but her hand closed around my wrist.
“Stay,” she whispered.
I looked down at her, searching for hesitation, for doubt, but found none. Only the hopeful gaze of a woman holding out her heart, trusting me with it. An honour that I would gladly bear for the rest of my days.
“Only if you’re sure?”
She nodded once, body slow in movement but her eyes filled with light. The heavy cloak dropped to the floor, the scrap of a gown joining it. With careful steps she got into the water. I dragged a stool from the corner of the room to sit beside her.
A quiet breath escaped her lips as she sank down slowly, heat pulling some of the tension from her body. I waited a moment before reaching for a fresh cloth. “Is it alright if I wash your wings?”
Blue eyes found me. “Please.”
Minutes slipped by as I lost myself in the act of adorning her with a tender and unhurried touch.
I bathed her arms, her shoulders. Beneath my fingers, bruises bloomed in muted shades of yellow, purple and brown.
I tried not to linger on the thoughts colliding in my mind, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of washing her skin.
It would heal with time.
When I reached her wings, my touch slowed.
I rinsed the cloth and drew it carefully along the edges where plumage met bone.
With every stroke, the black feathers resisted—then bent, then broke apart into something softer, lighter, like shadow being peeled from bone.
It felt wrong to touch at first, like I was reaching into something that wasn’t meant to be undone.
Then the grey came through.
It spilled beneath my hands, feather by feather, as if the darkness couldn’t hold it anymore. As if it had never truly been hers to begin with.
“Blythe . . . your wings,” I murmured.
She shifted to look over her shoulder. Tears gathered in her jewelled eyes. “They’re not black anymore,” she whispered.
Steam gathered and faded as I continued until every feather gleamed.
“I thought this is what people did for kings,” she murmured. “Not common women.”
I looked up and met her gaze. “You’re not just any woman.”
Blythe huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m certainly no king.”
“It is true,” I leaned forwards, pressing a light kiss to her lips. “But you are just as worthy as any royal to be seen and loved.”
Tears slipped free, silent, unashamed as the final shadows lifted from her wings, leaving them pale and light against the steam. “Thank you for coming to get me.”
My throat closed, tightening something in my chest. I knew then that she wasn’t thanking me for saving her life, but she was thanking me for believing she was worth coming back for.
I reached out and tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t realise this yet, but there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you.”
She offered me a smile, her eyes filling with hope for a future that would be brimming with life. “I kinda feel the same way.”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I replied, not able to stop the grin forming on my lips.
She stepped out of the bath and reached for clean clothes. I turned away without being asked, already refilling the tub. The water ran as I stripped out of what was left of Oscuro, internally reminding myself to burn it all at the earliest convenience.
Blythe slipped from the room, but not before she threw a glance my way, a pink hue flooding her cheeks. She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
When I was done, I dried off, pulled on some fresh trousers and headed out of the washroom. I found her offering Wisp a dish of milk.
Her gaze locked on me as I sauntered towards her.
“Nik—” she said breathlessly.
I didn’t ask. I scooped her up gently, one arm beneath her knees, the other braced at her back. She made a small sound of surprise before relaxing against me, trusting me with her weight in my embrace.
The house was quiet as I carried her down the hall, and into my room where I laid her gently on my bed.
She shuffled over, and I climbed in beside her a moment later, easing my body down slowly.
Pain flared and then dulled. Exhaustion pressed in hard, heavy, and relentless, but I fought sleep.
Not yet. I wanted to stay here a little longer.
She turned onto her side to face me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her breath. A rose scent washed over me, flooding my senses, and my hands instinctively reached for her.
For a moment, it was just us. She was here in my arms. Safe. Free from anyone who might harm her. It was over. The fear. The threat of darkness.
She reached out to brush her thumb over my bottom lip. “I want you to know,” she said softly, “that I heard you that night. When you told me you were falling in love with me.” She swallowed, steadying herself. “I didn’t leave because of anything you did. I hope you know that.”
The weight I’d been carrying since that night finally shifted. Not gone—just eased enough that I could breathe again. I’d told myself a thousand times that she’d left because of me. “Blythe—”
She shook her head, just slightly. “I need you to know something else.” Her eyes never left mine. “I choose Lucius. I choose happiness. I choose you.” Her voice trembled but didn’t break. “I want to be yours, wholly and unconditionally.”
Something in my chest finally gave way. I smiled before I could stop myself.
“You were always mine. I just needed to find you. And I need you to know that I can’t wait to live a good life with you.
To have tea in the mornings, Wisp curled at our feet.
To make love in the mornings and evenings.
I can’t wait to go back to the ocean. To hold your hand.
To watch you fly. To kiss your face. To love you loudly, in front of everyone and then quiet again just between us. ”
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. “I love you, Nikolas.”
I reached out to catch the tear with my thumb. “I love you, Blythe.”
I drew her closer, careful of bruises, careful of us.
Sleep finally reached for me, and this time, I let it.