“Wildfire, you're worth everything.”
Chapter 9
Reyla
Ithought I’d died and that the fates had bound me because I’d failed Lore.
Myself.
Instead, he’d come for me. He took me into his arms, and he showed me the way home.
Lore flitted us from the bed to our bathing chamber. The thick smell of soap wrapped around me, warm and familiar. I stood still, swaying until my knees remembered how to hold me up.
His arm tightened around me without a word.
The light was softer here, a gentle gold filtering in through the windows. I leaned into him, pressing my face into his neck. His heartbeat thudded, and I clung to that rhythm, to him, without shame or questions.
As he undressed me, his fingers moved with such care I couldn’t look up at him. He slipped each piece from me like they’d rip in his hands. Or I'd rip. I didn’t know how I remained standing.
He didn’t ask me to.
One wave from his hand, and water rose in the tub. Another twitch of his fingers, and the candles scattered on every crevice lit, casting a thousand flickers over us.
I began to breathe again.
A curve of his lips, and he was as naked as me.
“You could've done that for me,” I said with a limp smile that I felt more than I could show.
“And miss removing one item off you after another?” His smile also didn't quite reach his eyes. We'd been scorched, and we were both still singed. “I'd never miss the chance. Do you know how many times I imagined stripping off your clothing, laying you on my bed, and following?”
“One or two times?”
“Or three.”
My smile crooked up a bit farther, though it still felt jagged.
He lifted me into his arms and stepped into the tub, slowly lowering me onto his lap. The water welcomed me like the best embrace, and his arms remaining snug around me was even better. I slid my legs around his waist, nestling my thighs against his, pressing my forehead into his chest. Breathing him in. He barely made a sound, just a light, stuttering sigh I felt all the way to my bones.
Warmth moved through me. I tried to speak but couldn’t. Resting my cheek against his chest helped more than anything. He was all stormy sky and home. I breathed against the soft place where his pulse beat hard under his skin. His breath caught, and he kissed the top of my head.
“I thought it was over,” I whispered, though maybe I spoke only in my head.
“Never, as long as I still live.” He smoothed his hand down my spine. My ribs stopped shaking.
“How long left?”
“Six days. Plenty of time.”
The relief I felt…it stung in the back of my eyes and made my throat choke tight.
I trailed my fingers up to his jaw. “Yes, plenty of time.” It would be enough. This I vowed. “You smell like rain.” My voice came out cracked and too small.
“You smell like you're still with me.”
And just like that, I realized I hadn’t been. Not really. Not until now.
“I wasn’t only chained,” I said, my face buried once again in the crook of his neck.
