To deny it, to pretend it didn’t exist, would be a rejection of that honor.
Bracing herself for his reaction, Alashiya forced the words through the constriction of her throat. “Taevas, I… There’s something I didn’t tell you about what happened when we were driving here.”
Unable to look at him, she reached for his right hand. The one with the scar the healer couldn’t fix. The one that she bound to her in that stolen car. The one that made him hers.
Holding their hands side by side and palm up, she aligned the silvery lines. Hers had already begun to branch into fine roots — a visible extension of the vast network that permeated her body. His was shallow and thin, a testament to how unwilling she was to hurt him.
Her eyes stung as she stroked his scar with the tip of her finger. “I thought you were going to die. I felt you just— just slipping away and there was nothing I could do. We were too far away from help. I didn’t know how to save you.”
Taevas stroked her damp hair back from her cheek with his free hand. In a soft voice, he asked, “What happened, my queen?”
Turning her hand over, she pressed their palms together. Their scars aligned, hyphae to hyphae, blood to blood. She didn’t want to cry. She wanted to own what she’d done and why she’d done it. But the tears came anyway. They were a violent release of grief and the shadow of a loss that would’ve buckled her.
A tear streaked down to drip from her chin when she confessed, “I didn’t know how to save you but I couldn’t let you go. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
His fingers curled around the back of her neck. Tilting her head up so she was forced to look him in the eye, Taevas growled, “Whatever you did, you havenothingto be sorry for. You saved me, Shiya. You saved me again and again and again. I promise you, whatever you did, you’re forgiven.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do know that.” He squeezed the nape of her neck. Pressing their foreheads together, he insisted, “Because I know you. Whatever you did, you did it because you had to.”
“That’s not true. A part of me just wanted to,” she admitted,breathing hitching. “A big part of me was too selfish to let you go. Even if you hated me— I didn’t care.”
He huffed. “I could never hate you.”
Alashiya squeezed her eyes shut. “I married you, Taevas.”
There was a long pause. She couldn’t look at him. Instead, she reminded herself that he was alive. That she’d brought him back to his clan and his people. That she’d been selfish, yes, but she couldn’t regret it when it saved his life.
“You… what?”
“I married you,” she repeated, voice hoarse. Squeezing his scarred hand, she explained, “I cut your hand and I cut mine and I— I married us. I brought you into the hyphae because I thought it could stabilize you or— or give you some strength or?—”
“Shiya,Shiya.Stop. Open your eyes.” The strangled note in his voice made her flinch away, but her eyes opened.
Taevas stared at her with a fervent, incredulous expression. His eyes were wide, the skin pulled tight over his cheekbones, and his mouth pressed into a rigid line. She had no doubt that his wings would’ve mantled if they hadn’t been strapped to his back. The hyphae buzzed with activity in the back of her mind, whipped to a frenzy by whatever intense feeling he was experiencing.
She knew she could tap into it if she wanted to. She might even be able to speak to him if he could already hear snippets of her thoughts. But she didn’t dare. She’d violated his trust enough.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I understand that you’re angry. You should be. Just— please don’t send me away.”
To be hated was one thing, but to be physically separated from her husband would be a misery beyond comparison. They were bound in the hyphae now. Prolonged separation would diminish them both, physically and mentally.
Maybe she deserved that misery, but he didn’t.
“Of course I’m angry,” Taevas hissed. He grabbed her hand and held it between them, palm up to show her scar. “Are you telling me that I missed ourwedding?”
Alashiya stared at him, unsure how to react. “You were dying. I didn’t know what else to do.”
“Can we do it again?” he demanded through clenched teeth.
She blinked. “I… Huh?”
“Can we do it again, Alashiya.” It wasn’t a question this time.
“No,” she answered, “it can only be done once. Why?”
“Because I can’t have missed our fucking wedding, Shiya!” he exclaimed, voice raw.
