He paused, as if my question didn’t make sense to him. “You deserve easy. You deserve peace.” His thumb traced over my hip, the touch rough from his callouses but softer than his voice. “That's not in me.”
“Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think.” Sitting up straighter, I shifted my head back, noting the lines carved deep into his face. “You’re wrong.”
His eyebrows lifted. “About what in particular? After all, there are many things about me to choose from.”
“You’re wrong about what I deserve, and you’re wrong about what you are. Merrick’s kind. He’s thoughtful, warm in a way that makes me feel protected. But that doesn’t mean I want him more than you.”
His hand tensed on my hip. “The way you speak about him?—”
“That isn’t the point. You’re not the lesser half of him. You two, like life, provide balance. The night doesn't lack beauty just because you can't see in the darkness. And storms can cleanse the world as easily as they destroy.”
“I’m built to fight. Formed to take. My only role is to clawthrough the darkness to clear the way for the light.” His mouth curved into a sardonic smile. “But what use is that to someone who craves trust instead of torment?”
I shook my head, frustration bubbling under my skin. “You keep repeating what you’re meant to be like it’s a fact. It’s not some immovable truth carved into stone. But you’re not the lesser part of this curse, the piece of the cursed fae king who's been thrown to the side.” My fingers curled around his tunic, biting deep. “Whatever you think of yourself, you’re here. Holding me. Talking to me. Caring about whether I’m in pain. There isn't anything thoughtless in that.”
His throat worked as he swallowed, and I saw it—the barest flicker of surprise, almost relief on his face. The light from the fire shone in his green eyes a shade darker than Merrick’s.
“You find things in me I never let myself see,” he croaked. “And you… You make me feel whole in ways I didn't know I needed. Ways I don't know how to ask for.”
My chest tightened, my throat pinched and aching. “You shouldn’t have to ask.”
He pressed his forehead against mine, and his breath warmed my skin when he spoke. “You deserve a man who doesn’t need you to put him back together.”
“And you deserve someone who knows this battle is worth fighting.”
He stroked his fingers down my cheek, his touch lighter than a featherdorn, a mythical, tiny golden bird that flitted from one flower to another and was said to grant wishes if captured. This man was as elusive as that bird. If I caught him, would he grant me all my wishes?
His arms tightened around me.
I dozed…waking to go to the bathing area. He even helped me with that. True mortification right there. This was Lorant. He drew blood; he didn’t mop it up or magic rags to control it.
Except with me.
I woke with dawn’s light slicing through the room.
InMerrick’sarms.
Looking up, I took in the smooth skin of his face, his firm jawline, and the tortured fear shining in his lighter green eyes.
“Hey,” he said, his voice guarded.
“Good morning.” I held his gaze. “You didn’t leave before…”
“I won’t keep anything from you. Never again. I’ll spend what time I have left making this up to you. I promise.”
“You said you’d tell me what you can, and I can see now that you have. I understand why you haven’t told me everything.”
His posture didn’t sag—Merrick never allowed cracks in his façade like that. But the relief in his eyes cut through me, carving across my resolve like one of the blades he'd crafted for me with his own hands. The truth of it hit me harder than I wanted to admit. When I’d watched Merrick change into Lorant, I'd believed he'd held it back on purpose with no thought of how I'd feel. I’d painted him as the villain of my story. My anger was a sword I’d aimed straight at them both.
But now I could see that my fury had been misplaced. He wasn’t withholding secrets to manipulate me or wield some mysterious power over my life. He’d been incapable of telling me. Incapable because whoever had cursed him had made sure he couldn’t reveal the truth. They'd bound it so tightly around his throat that even trying could steal his air, his life.
And I'd doubted him. Doubtedthem.
The hollow ache in my chest stole the breath from me. I’d been protecting myself in all the wrong ways, shoving them out instead of pulling them closer. If I’d stopped long enough to reallysee him, to really seethem, maybe I wouldn’t have spent so much time chasing shadows of betrayal where there were none.
It was time to focus that anger on who deserved it most, the wizard who'd cursed his family, doomed him, and left me scrambling to pick up the pieces with barely enough time to fuse them together.
Five weeks.
