He reaches for the ribbon at the end of my braid. The bow has come undone and for a moment I think he’s going to tie it back up, except that he slides it loose instead, pulling the ribbon free. Without a word, he folds it in half and places it inside the book, a pale blue curl next to the picture of me, tucked away safely.
The book meets the ground slowly, deliberately. His chest rises and falls. His breathing is so even that he could be resting. He looks as purposeful as he does when he draws.
He closes the gap between us with a single powerful stride, stopping inches away from me. His chest is closer to mine than he’s ever been before. His forefinger grazes my cheek, the lightest touch, tucking my hair behind my ear, following the curve of my neck down to my braid, loosening it from the bottom up until my hair cascades across my shoulders, flowing freely.
Shivers run up and down my spine as his hand remains tangled in my hair, his fingers light against the back of my neck, his thumb stroking the curve between my neck and shoulder. He tilts his head down to mine, but doesn’t move any closer.
“May I have your permission?”
I lift my lips to his, overwhelmed by the searching question in his eyes. As his hands run through my hair from my neck to my lower back, I sway into him, closing the gap.
“Yes.”
When his lips touch mine, his hesitation is gone. He lifts me up to meet him, our bodies molding together. His kiss is soft and gentle at first. A light press of his lips against mine. He follows the shape of my lips from the corner to the curve at the top, gentle brushes sending tingles all the way down to my toes.
He tastes like a warm breeze and I respond by fitting my lips to his, curve in curve, our mouths moving against each other until I gasp for breath. I tilt my head back and he follows the line of my cheeks and chin, planting kisses against my throat and up across my earlobe.
He lifts me, still kissing me, and carries me to the flat rocks at the side of the cave. When he sets me down on the lowest one, I find myself at eye height with him for the first time. His are serious, determined.
“I’ll be gone for three years. I know it’s a long time. But when I get back I’ll be able to make my own choices. I know it’s a lot to ask but… will you wait for me?”
I pull back, but not too far, just far enough to run my hands across his cheeks and kiss the path my fingers follow.
I whisper, “I would wait a lifetime for you.”
My lips graze against the fine stubble along his jaw, his cheekbones, finding his temple and the soft skin next to his ear…
He twitches and I stop, my fingertip resting lightly on his earlobe. “Baelen Rath, are you ticklish?”
He shivers against me. “Give me mercy, no. Not ticklish.”
I gasp as he presses me close again, his lips crashing against mine. A burn grows inside me. It swirls across my lower back and through my stomach. His hands flatten against my spine, sliding beneath the back of my cloak. I rest my own hands across his shoulders only to find myself sliding my fingers behind his neck, drawing him closer still.
The sky rumbles above us but I barely hear it. The first drop of rain lands on my cheek but Baelen kisses it away. Another one lands on my eyelashes and he kisses that too. The wind tugs on my cloak, finally forcing me to look up.
Baelen keeps me close, his voice a rumble in my ear. “The storm’s coming over fast. We won’t make it down the mountain in time.”
I answer, “It would be dangerous to try. We can stay here. It will blow over fast.”
He takes my hand as I step down from the rock and leads me inside the cave but he stops at the entrance. His book is still outside.
He looks back as his hand slides out of mine, holding on right to the end before letting go. He takes swift steps to retrieve the book, returning just before the clouds break and the rain falls down.
I stop at one side of the cave as he backs up to the other. We’ve been caught in the rain once before. He stayed on his side of the cave and I stayed on mine.
As clouds cover the afternoon sun and the sky darkens outside, so does the space around me. A match flares and Baelen lights the lamp he keeps at the back of the hollow, leaving the light on a rock to cast a soft glow around us.
He leans at his side of the cave, watching the rain fall outside, fat drops hitting the ground and running along the slight slope to the edge of the cliff beyond. I watch them too, knowing that we could stay like this for hours and when the rain stops, he will make sure I make it safely down the slippery rocks to the bottom of the mountain. He will see me home and then he’ll be gone for three years. And I will wait for him without question.
I know he won’t ask. I know it’s my choice. I am the daughter of a servant in his father’s house. He will never use his position or his power to persuade me. He will never take advantage.
He won’t speak. He’ll wait in silence. He won’t say the words.
So I say them for him. “I want to be yours.”
He focuses on me, but remains where he is, and I realize that what I said could be interpreted in different ways. I leave my side of the cave as thunder rumbles outside. Closer to him, I reach for his hand, lifting it and placing it against my waist. His fingers flex around the small of my back and splay across my hip.
I reach up on my tip-toes to plant a kiss on his bottom lip and watch the question grow on his face. Then I untie the sash that keeps my cloak around my shoulders and let it drop to the ground.
I say, “You have my permission.”
