My hand remained clasped around Belekoroz’s the entire way. I did not care what it might reveal to others. Part of me was in too much turmoil to let go, as if I feared that the moment I stopped touching him he might vanish, and this time be lost to me forever.
When Sha’am and Aramaz had laid him down on a bed in one of the guest rooms in the back of the hall and I had tugged a blanket around him, I sank into a chair beside the bed, my fingers still entwined with his. I did not react when Sha’am left and even ignored the king’s gaze on me. Silence descended in the room, only disturbed by Belekoroz’s soft breathing.
Aramaz sighed and stepped closer to the bed. “You know what this means,” he said, his voice low but holding a tense edge. “What kind of power he now wields.”
The power of the Abyss. As Enlial had warned us, and despite all our efforts to prevent it, Belekoroz had become the Adept of Chaos.
My fingers clenched around his cold ones, my gaze resolutely staying on his face. “He did it to save us,” I pressed out, knowing all too well it was not so simple.
“Did he?”
Aramaz’s sharp tone made me look at him, catching the ironic twist of his mouth. So he had sensed it, too. It might have been the desire to protect us, to protect me, that had made Belekoroz step in front of the terrible force of the Abyss. But it had been something else entirely that had prompted him to claim it as his own.
As dangerous as it was, he had wanted that power to be his.
Aramaz scrutinized me for a long moment, his blue eyes unreadable. “I wonder,” he finally said, “if he had not been able to control this power… would you have used the Flame to stop him?”
I stared at him in utter shock. Would I have destroyed Belekoroz like that monstrous Kritak? Would I have obliterated him with the Flame? It awakened inside me at the thought, simmering just below the surface of my skin. But not to destroy. The violent urge rising inside me only wanted to protect.
“He was able to control it,” I answered, not hiding the growl building up in my throat. “He reined it in.”
“Yes, he did, didn’t he?” Aramaz said softly, surely noting the change in my tone, the sudden pressure of magic in the air. “For you.”
A knock on the door saved me from having to answer. Aramaz’s herald, Tayshren, stepped into the room, back in his mortal form. A few unhealed cuts and bruises were still visible on his body, I notedas he bowed, his amber eyes coldly sweeping over me and Belekoroz’s prone form before settling on Aramaz.
“My king.” His tone was carefully controlled, giving no hint of the brief flash of disapproval I had seen on his face. “You should come back outside. The mortals need reassurance.”
“Of course.” Aramaz nodded and moved to leave. He halted at the door, though, and looked at me, his mind brushing against mine, an odd sadness accompanying the touch.“I hope you are right, Baradaz. For all our sakes, I hope you are right, and he can control it.”
It took a long time after the king had left for the Flame to quiet once more, the wild, primal urge to shield Belekoroz from harm still raging within me. I had remained seated beside him, a deep weariness permeating my very being. I knew I should have gone to help in the aftermath of battle, that it was my duty. Yet I could not bring myself to leave. My hand clasped his in an unbreakable grip, my gaze on his unmoving face.
He reined it in… For you.
Aramaz’s words echoed through me. For so many centuries I had wondered if what had been between Belekoroz and me was real, if he cared more for me than for his games and his ambition for power.
And he did. My eyes closed, my heart beating hard and fast. Stars above, he did.
Some time later, a faint twitch in Belekoroz’s fingers told me he was waking up even before his lashes fluttered. His eyes were unfocused as they darted around the room. Then he noticed my presence, and a slow smile lifted his lips.
I smiled back and did not protest when Belekoroz tugged me forward, all the emotions swirling within me—relief, worry, longing—making me forget why this was unwise. My hair cascaded down like a curtain of flames as I hovered above him, one of his hands reaching out to close around my nape.
“There you are, my queen,” he said, his voice a low murmur meant only for me.
I bridged the remaining distance between us with a small sob and kissed him. It wasn’t soft or tender, but a frantic, desperate meeting of hungry mouths, as if we both suddenly realized what had happened, how close we had come to losing each other.
“Baradaz—stars, Baradaz—”
I was nearly delirious with the sensation of him so close, a giggle bubbling up from my lips as he nipped along my jaw between broken-off whispers.
“You have no idea how much I missed you.”
One warm hand cupped my face and tilted it up to him. His gaze was heartbreakingly tender as his thumb swiped over my cheek to the corner of my mouth. I trembled beneath his touch, yearning for more. Then his expression shifted. The warmth in my heart turned into the icy bite of dread as lightning flashed through his eyes. Lightning the colors of amethyst and emerald, the colors of Chaos.
Belekoroz’s fingers tightened on my skin, his voice reduced to a growl, a possessive claim. “I am never letting you go again.”
CHAPTER
48
