His voice drops, rough and almost broken, like it hurts to admit the truth now that it’s spilling out of him. “I’ve been encased in my shadows,” he whispers,the admission falling between us heavily, “because it’s the only thing that’s kept me from unraveling.”
My lips part, but the words don’t come. There’s too much fire in my chest and an ache growing where it shouldn’t. Not when what’s between us is still so broken and jagged.
He mutters a curse so soft I almost don’t hear it.
“Fuck it.”
He lunges, closing the space between us in a breath.
His mouth crashes into mine without preamble or apology, a snarl caught at the back of his throat as his hands tangle in my hair and drag me closer, as if he doesn’t trust the air between us not to steal me away. Shadows surge in tandem, slipping around my thighs, up my spine, curling across my ribs like they can’t bear to let me go. Every inch of me feels marked by the press of his power, not in violence, but in desperation to claim me.
The kiss alone is enough to strip the breath from my lungs, but even more so, in the way his entire body folds toward mine like this is the release he’s been searching for. The answer he’s been desperate to have.
I clutch at the front of his shirt, grounding myself, because I swear the floor isn’t beneath me anymore.
Only him.
Only this.
When he finally tears his mouthfrom mine, his breath is ragged and uneven, chest heaving like he’s just surfaced from drowning.
He stares at me, eyes blown wide, shadows recoiling from me all at once just before he stumbles back.
He turns without a word, throwing the tent flap open so violently it slaps against the outer side, and then he’s gone before I can find my voice…before I can understand what, exactly, just shattered between us.
Chapter 29
Wren
The tent is too quiet and empty in the wake of Azyric’s exit.
I haven’t moved and my pulse still thrums from the feel of his lips against mine and the confession that split open something unknown between us. My goal was to mend the gap that had grown since I left the wraith’s castle, yet somehow it seems to have only grown wider.
My fingers tremble slightly at my sides, but I ignore them, staring at the entrance as if he’s going to walk back in. When it opens, my breath rises in my throat, but three figures appear.
Not one…and not four.
He still chooses to avoid me and this confusion that brews between us.
The knot that formed in my chest tightens as Irealize he isn’t coming back, yet the presence of these three soothes a part of me that feels rejected from Azyric’s departure.
They came for me, even after I continued to claim neutrality in this war. Despite the hurt I saw reflected in each of their eyes from my admission, the explanation of my power discovery, or maybe even a mixture of both.
They all come to a stop a few feet away when they see me standing alone, each of their gazes running over me, offering warmth and understanding as the silence stretches.
Sylvin’s voice breaks it first, soft and gentle like when we were in the grove of the Summer Court. “He’s an imbecile, little echo. You don’t need him if he’s going to act this way.”
I swallow and nod instinctively. He may be right, but it doesn’t erase the tiny part of me that wants his words to be wrong.
Torryn tilts his head slightly, the muscle in his jaw ticking before his voice rumbles low. “No matter what you decide to do tomorrow, you still need to eat and rest tonight.”
I blink slowly, some part of me grateful for the simplicity of the words. He’s always such a grounding presence for me, even when everything inside me feels like it’s been torn loose.
Riven’s voice follows, softer than his usual. “Where do you want to sleep, darling? We need to get an extra cot in one of the tents.”
My breath catches. It’s a simple question, but the weight that presses down on my chest is overwhelming. Their gazes shift concurrently, displaying the same emotions for the very first time.
Hope. Fear. Vulnerability.
