“Then we’ll keep it open.” Taavin took the bed across from her, laying down as she did.
Vi stared out the opening, the night sky barely visible over the rocking bow. Above her, Arwin stood, alone with her thoughts—and the knowledge of what she’d finally done to the person who’d harmed her.
Without warning, her chest was burning—brighter and hotter with every breath. She tried to slow her breathing, to stave off whatever was rising within her. But it was hopeless.
“Taavin,” Vi croaked. “Are you still awake?”
“Of course,” he whispered back. “What is it?”
“I…” Words escaped her. In the darkness, the burning of her chest flushed her cheeks and pricked at her eyes. All she wanted was comfort. Just the slightest bit of comfort. Why was that so hard to ask for? The longer the world forced her to be strong, the harder it was to accept weakness of any kind.
“Vi?”
“Can I sleep with you?” she forced out, finally.
Taavin shifted to face her, eyes shining in the darkness. Vi’s shone as well, but for a different reason. He pressed his back against the wall and lifted an arm.
Slowly, heart racing, Vi moved from her bed to his.
The cots were far too small for two people. Vi felt like half of her was hanging awkwardly over the side of the bed, which meant Taavin undoubtedly had no room for his considerable height. Even if she’d wanted to be modest, there was no room to be.
Vi’s eyes fluttered closed. No, she didn’t care about modesty. He was warm. His arm snaked around her back, hips twisting, legs intertwining… Taavin’s whole body fit flush against her, as though it were made to be there. His comfort was enough to soothe the burning of her chest and racing of her mind.
“I find myself thinking, more and more, that I am cursed.” Her fingers laced with his.
“You are not cursed, you are chosen.” Taavin held her tighter.
“Are they really so different?” Beingchosenhad led her down a path she had never wanted to walk—a path laid well before her birth. “If I try, I can tie everything together. My mother’s illness, my father’s plight… It all leads back to the Crystal Caverns, Raspian’s return. It’s all connected. Were they being punished for me?”
“I can’t claim to know the will of Yargen. None of us can.”
Vi closed her eyes, shutting out the world. “What if it’s all my fault? What if they suffered because they had to be the parents of the Champion?”
“Or what if everything was merely chance? Or what if their actions were what made you, out of everyone, the Champion?” His voice was low and soft, whispering across the shell of her ear. “I don’t know what the truth is. I don’t know if it lies here.” His hand freed itself to rest on the watch around her neck. “I don’t know if it’s in the scythe. I don’t know if there’s a greater meaning to any of it.”
“That’s hopeful,” Vi said sarcastically.
“I won’t lie to you.” The words sent chills down her spine. “I can’t promise your mother will live, or your father will be saved. I can’t assure that you will find your way back to your family and homeland, and selfishly… selfishly I…”
“You what?” she probed when he hadn’t continued the thought after several breaths.
“Perhaps, selfishly, I don’t want to see you go.”
A sad smile crossed her lips.
Romulin had accused her of deserting her post. But everything Vi had done had been for her Empire and for the greater good of the world itself. If anything could inspire her to act selfishly, it would be Taavin. Perhaps, after all she’d been through, she wanted to be selfish, too.
“But…” Taavin continued, finally. Sorrow filled his voice, matching the sorrow that was beginning to fill her chest, extinguishing the burning fears that had risen there earlier. “I can guarantee one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Should you want it… allow my arms to be your home. Here is home. Because, as I told you once, here is where you are safe.”
The last holdouts of her stress and tension vanished. Vi sank further into his embrace, and his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her to him. There wasn’t a part of her that wasn’t flush against him, and Vi savored every bit of warmth he had, wrapping it around her like a blanket.
Despite feeling the most relaxed she’d been in some time, Vi disrupted the comfortable position they’d found to turn to face him. He didn’t seem surprised; a small smile played on his mouth, and his eyelids were heavy but not with slumber. Her arms were tucked between them, fingertips on both of his cheeks. Vi looked from his lips to his eyes.
This was not the man she’d kissed in Solaris. She was not the woman who had seized a moment in a tent for fleeting joy. She saw him for who he was—tortured and hopeful. A man who had done wretched and wonderful things alike. And she was no different.
