“It’s beautiful,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
“She was.” His voice held a sadness I couldn’t comprehend, and something felt heavy in my chest at seeing his small broken smile.
“I am so sorry for your loss,” I whispered.
Solas nodded, his eyes glistening with something unsaid as they slipped down to the mark branded to the back of my hand from the blood bargain.
“So am I. One day I will avenge her. For now, I take comfort that she is amongst the stars, watching over me until I join her.”
I wanted to ask him what happened, but the distant look that crossed over his face told me not to ask right now. Instead, the silence stretched comfortably as I watched the flames dance and crackle.
I looked up at the hulking Fae Commander, reaching up and flicking his nose gently. He raised his eyebrows at me in disbelief. “If I marry your king, I get to order you around,” I mused, unable to hide my smirk.
“Unlikely,” he growled down at me, barely tolerating my closeness.
“Shame, I had some very fun demands for you…” My words trailed off into a yawn, my eyelids heavy. “I am tired,” I stated slowly.
Cerilla rose, her dark curls pooling around her. “I’ll help you clean up,” she said and offered me her hand.
I shooed it away, curling myself against my captor’s chest, clinging to his body any way that I could. “I will sleep here,” I responded, unbashful. Cerilla began to protest, but the Commander cut her off.
“It is fine, Cerilla, just leave her,” he seethed. “She will go back to despising me in the morning,” he muttered, and I thought I heard a hint of sadness in his voice.
The forest stirredto life around us, bathed in unearthly beauty that mocked the growing shame clawing at my chest. Winston, the enormous dark stallion, trotted along the narrow path. The sun trickled through the thick canopy above, illuminating the dense greenery and delicate flowers that surrounded us as I tried to clear my head. The venom had steadily trickled from my system. It leaked from me slowly, like fog lifting after a storm, leaving everything sharper. Harsher. Real.
My gore-splattered body sat rigid in the saddle, my spine pressed against the broad chest behind me. I longed to scrub my skin clean, of more than just the remnants of the Nightbourne, but from what I had done. The haze clinging to my thoughts had thinned enough for clarity to bite. Shame curled hot and merciless in my gut, my cheeks burning as fractured memories flickered like lightning. My hands on him. My mouth against his skin. I had begged. Moaned. Pleaded. I had fallen asleep against his chest, only to wake on the ground… Alone. I shifted, trying—and failing—to put space between us. The weight pressing down on my chest wasn’t just humiliation. It was disappointment. I had been violated so many times in my life, and now I was upset that I wasn’t?
Gods, how broken am I?
Something inside me cracked. My breath hitched, then stuttered. Air scraped into my lungs but didn’t stay. Monsters were hunting me. A ghost was haunting me. I was supposed to save everyone from the Seven Hells. I was captured by my people’s most feared enemy. I still had no idea what I was,andI had offered myself up for marriage for a war. My chest tightened, a crushing band pulling tighter with every shallow inhale. Too fast. Too shallow. I couldn’t slow it down.
Why can’t I breathe?
I leant forward in the saddle, clutching at air that refused to fill me, breath after breath tearing in against the frantic hammer of my heart, panic flooding my veins before I could stop it.
“Lyra?” The Commander’s voice cut through the spiral, low and steady. “What is it?” he asked.
Instead of answering, a sob tore from my throat, hot tears spilling down my cheeks without permission. “Look at me,” he murmured as he pulled on Winston’s reins to slow our speed. Solas and Cerilla were in front, and they rode ahead, not realising we were falling behind.
“You are safe, Little Drownling. Breathe.” His hand came to my waist, firm and anchoring, keeping me upright. The other hand splayed over my chest. I tried to shove him away, but he only held me tighter.
“Breathe with me. Slow. In through your nose.” He drew a deliberate breath behind me, deep enough that I felt it expand against my back. “Out.”
I tried. Failed. Tried again. But he kept filling his lungs with long, slow breaths behindme. And eventually, I managed to mimic one, my body obeying him before my mind could argue.
“That’s it,” he said quietly, as if every word was chosen with care. My lungs stuttered, then caught, dragging in a breath that burned butstayed. My chest ached, tight with something dangerously close to relief, and I hated myself for leaning into his steadiness.
“You did so well for me,” he praised, sending a shock of heat through my system that I tried to run from. “I was worried you were going to spook Umbra,” the Commander mused quietly.
“Who is Umbra?” I asked between measured breaths. I needed to take control—to anchor myself before everything slipped beyond my grasp again.
“My horse.” He took his hand off my chest to pat its dark mane, keeping the other wrapped around my waist. I squirmed away, almost toppling to the ground. His gripped tightened and he pulled me against his body. “Easy now,” he said low and smoothly.
“I had named him Winston,” I muttered through the easing panic. His laugh rumbled through me. A genuine laugh. Gods help me, it was a noise that did something to my heart. I pushed that feeling down and locked it in a cage where it belonged.
“Do you think your High Lord will accept my proposal?”
A knot of tension worked its way in my shoulders. Gods, I wanted a bath. A long, hot bath was my only reprieve in the castle.
