“Of course I was worried.”
“It’s been a long few days. Everything that’s happened. It would make anyone anxious.”
“I was worried because I love you.”
He froze. His expression folded in on itself. “You didn’t mean to say that.”
“Yes,” she said. “I did.”
His gaze came back to hers. The moment was like an empty glass, open to whatever Ellina might pour into it. She thought of all her missed chances. Her voice, lost and then returned. Her heart broken open, but sweetly, sweetly.
Ellina set a hand to Venick’s chest. His pulse was wild. Hers was, too. She could not quite keep her voice from shaking as she said, “I never explained what happened that day, after the everpool.”
“No,” he said. “You didn’t.”
“Did you know,” she started, spreading her fingers wide, “that the first time I lied in elvish was the day of your trial? I had been practicing. I knew about the rumors. Elves were talking about us. I worried what that might mean for you. That day in the stateroom, I was terrified…”
“Of what would happen if you were discovered,” Venick finished.
“No.” Ellina shook her head. “No, Venick. I was terrified of what would happen ifyouwere discovered. The everpool. That kiss. All the things you had just admitted to me about…about how you felt. What if they made you say it in elvish? My mother forbade humans from pursuing elves. That was law, punishable by death. I thought I was going to watch you die.” A hard swallow. “You once told me that if you died, I would be fine. That’s not true.” She closed her fingers, fisting his shirt, and said it again. “That’s not true.”
She continued speaking. She told him everything. How difficult those first lies had been, how painful. The way she had lied again on Traegar’s balcony to prevent the conjuror Youvan from discovering Venick’s secrets. Later, on Irek’s beach, how she had tried to tell Venick the truth about her. How everything had gone so wrong.
Venick listened to her story without interruption. She might have kept talking, continuing her seemingly endless list of recountings and regrets, except at some point, she caught the look on Venick’s face. His expression had changed. Ellina thought of how a stained-glass window changes, seemingly unremarkable at night, but glorious with the dawn.
Her voice trailed away.
Venick reached a slow hand to touch her face. When Ellina did not pull away, he closed the remaining distance between them, slanting his lips over hers.
A noise, deep in his chest. His hands, everywhere: at her hips, her ribs, the back of her thighs. Then he was speaking, too, whispering against her neck all the things he wanted, the things he needed. Her. Now.
Her answer came on a breathless exhale. Venick pulled back a little, toying with the hem of her shirt before lifting the material up and away. Then his shirt was gone as well, and they were stumbling towards the thin mattress, peeling off more layers, lips coming to skin. Ellina’s head was hazy. She thought, blurrily, that she should try to focus, try to remember these details, but her mind could only offer meaningless words, likeahandhereandthis, this.
She stopped trying to think. She found an old scar on the back of his hand, traced the pink ridge with her open mouth. Venick watched her do this, color rising to his neck. He seemed torn between the desire to study her and the desire to drag her mouth back to his. His torment was a pleasure. Hers was, too.
As his weight finally settled over her and Ellina’s cheeks pinkened and he moved inside her, Ellina was glad that words were not needed. So often, she struggled to make herself seen and known and understood. But not then.
Outside the room, the city was drifting like a boat on a wave, rocking softly to sleep. Beyond the city, the enemy was on its way, bringing shadows and darkness. But there in that room, illuminated by the embers of the dying fire, it was only the two of them, finding each other at last.
THIRTY
Ellina woke with a sigh.
There was a heavy arm across her body. Morning rays streaming in through the open window. The tickle of breath in her hair.
She turned over.
Venick squinted open an eye. Smiled. His voice was soaked in sleep. “Morning.”
“Good morning.”
He came more awake. Ellina was awake, too, to the quality of his gaze, the way it caught on her form, which was naked beneath the covers.
He touched her cheek. “Sleep well?”
“No.”
“Ah.” He winced. “My fault.”
