Gods, it was so raw, so overwhelming, tears prickled at the corner of my eyes. But beneath it—something bittersweet. Something thathurt.
“Am I… can I feel what you’re feeling?” I whispered into the moonlit dark, unsure if I was slipping back into madness.
“Yes.”His voice unfurled through my mind, and I stiffened in his arms.“I can feel you as well.”
I shuddered, his hand drawing circles on my hip. He could feel everything. My confusion. My fear. The soft, shameful truth that I felt safe in his arms.
“When the Nightbourne attacked me, your voice in my head was real wasn’t it?” I had put it down to my own madness.
He nodded against my head.
“Please, never do that again,” I whispered.
His body stiffened behind me, and I felt his rejection flood me.
“I’ve heard voices in my head since I was twelve, sometimes I can’t tell what is real,” I explained slowly, sharing the last of my broken soul with him.
“Then I will speak out loud,” he murmured into my hair, punctuating it with a kiss. That overwhelming feeling of grief slammed into me from the bond and I gasped.
“Why are you sad?” I asked him.
For a moment he didn’t answer, and I let my eyes fall shut, sinking into him. Letting myself enjoy this quiet, impossible moment—his warmth, his steady breath against my neck, the way our souls tangled like they had always known each other. His voice finally brushed the shell of my ear, barely a breath. “Because this is all I have ever wanted…” He paused, a surge of anguish pouring down the bond, “and it’s going to be ripped away.”
“I will drown anyone who tries,” I promised him and he chuckled darkly, but Ifeltthe affection beneath it.
Sleep dragged at me, pullingme under, but I thought—just faintly—I heard him whisper one last thing: “Monsters do not deserve a happy ending.”
As I drifted off, something unsettling slithered through the bond. Or perhaps it was a dream. There was a ripple, tremor of violence. The urge tokill.
The Commander exhaled against my neck, warm and gentle. “Sleep, my Little Drownling.”
Thirty-Seven
Imbuement
The sun beat down without mercy, pulling beads of sweat from my skin. After spending the night tangled up with the Commander, my energy felt renewed. Waking up in the Commander’s arms had felt like a gift I didn’t deserve.
He’d kissed me lazily, lips soft and warm, pulling an orgasm from me with nothing but his fingers and a low murmur against my throat. But when I’d tried to reach for his hard length, he had chuckled. “As much as it pains me,” he’d murmured against my ear, “I need to make preparations for the Mortals’ and Fae lords’ arrivals.”
I’d pouted and made him promise not to stay away too long. We’d shared a quiet breakfast in his bed, knees brushing, his thumb stroking idle circles on my thigh. It had been… intimate. Comforting. Except for the intense heartbreak that oozed down the bond, dousing my quiet contentment with questions. What wasn’t he telling me?
Now, not even an hour later, my chest ached. I could still feel him through the bond, a faint simmer of frustrationon his end, like he was fighting the urge to come straight back to me.
I had been led through open hallways lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed breathtaking views to a training field carved into the side of the mountain.
Bright green grass extended through the clearing despite warriors sparring, launching arrows, and using magic. Fae magic lit the air like sparks off steel. They called lightning, flame, and wind. Sanctums werenothingcompared to this.
I was in awe, and suddenly I understood the need for the Iron Guard, without them, the Mortal Kingdom stoodnochance against this.
Solas beamed down at me as I approached him, his smile almost as blinding as the sun. A kindness I didn’t deserve after yesterday.
His nose crinkled once, and his eyebrows raised. His gaze crashed to my left hand. The mark had grown last night, during our bonding. Intricate lines wove just past my wrist and extended down over my fingers around the original wave and pointed stars.
“You bonded!” His arms wrapped around me in a tight hug. “Oh, I am so happy right now.”
His voice sounded warm, genuine, but worry creased his brow and his smile slipped.
“Does Cerilla know?” he asked as he stepped away from me and passed me a sword.
