Page 232 of Of Fates & Ruin


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She was surrounded by children like some kind of fairy tale come to life, and I could barely breathe for wanting her. Not only her body, though the fates knew I wanted that too, but this woman who loved so fiercely she’d break herself to protect these little ones.

Something primal and possessive roared to life in my chest. I wanted to give her a dozen children to love. I wanted to watch her tell bedtime stories inside our castle, to our heirs, for the rest of our lives.

You’re staring,I told myself, but I couldn’t look away.

This was my future. Not the crown or the throne or the battles, but this woman surrounded by children she’d die to protect.

“A king should not look at a woman with that much hunger unless he plans to make her his queen.” Amusement colored Fern’s voice.

I’d forgotten she was there. I couldn’t tear my eyes from Isi. “And what if he does?”

An all-knowing smile bloomed on Fern’s face. “Then he should be prepared to fight this world and the next to keep her. Goodness like that draws light, but it also calls to shadows.”

The truth of her words coiled in my gut. Every moment of joy with Isi came edged with the sharp, cold fear of losing her.

“This one’s different,”Fern said. “She sees you, not just the crown or the legend. That’s rarer than dragon’s gold, Trewyn.”

“It is,” I rasped.

“She’s the kind who changes a man for the better.” She patted my arm. “Don’t let her go, Your Majesty.”

“I won’t.” My words came out fierce, desperate. “I can’t.”

“Then stop looking at her like you’re afraid she’ll disappear and start looking at her like she’s already yours.”

If only it was that simple. “What if the pull of her old life comes between us?”

“Then you fight for her,” Fern said. “Do not surrender your kingdom without a war.”

As the sun bled orange and violet across the horizon, casting long shadows over the valley, Fern clapped her hands. “Alright, my little sparks. Dinner will soon be served. Inside with you now. Wash your hands. Straighten your clothing.”

Other women called out to specific children, who rose and ran to them, disappearing inside houses or the manor.

Around Isi, a chorus of groans and pleas filled the air, but thechildren got up and began to drift toward the warm, welcoming light spilling from the windows.

Isi rose to her knees, holding Leo’s face. “You have to go eat, sweet boy, and I have to leave.”

He looked up at her. “Will you come back?”

She leaned in and kissed his forehead. “I promise I’ll come visit you again. Be brave for me, alright? And be good for Fern.”

A small, wobbly smile rose on his lips. “I will.” With one last squeeze, he pulled away and raced to catch up with the other children, the wooden bird trailing behind him through the air. At the manor door, he stopped, turning back to give her a wave before going inside.

Isi’s shoulders slumped. The strength that had held her together evaporated, leaving her fragile. The first tear that slid down her cheek crushed me. The second one severed my heart in two.

I didn’t ask her to tell me what was wrong. I didn’t try to fix it with words. I just strode over and pulled her up and into my arms. I let her shatter against my chest, stroking her hair while she sobbed for the innocence her court had stolen from her. She clung to the front of my tunic, her body shaking with cries that tore through me.

“I’ve got you,” I said into her hair, a tear trickling down my own face. “I’ve got you.”

And I did. I’d catch every broken piece of her and help her put herself back together stronger than before.

We flew back with dusk deepening around us and the wind a cold caress. I held Isi against my chest. Kyreth’s wings beat a steady rhythm as I rested my chin on the top of Isi’s head, wishing I could hold her like this forever.

Her tears soaked through my shirt, and I didn’t care. I’d let her cry oceans if it helped ease her pain. She burrowed closer, her face hidden as another shudder wracked her body.

Finally, she looked up at me, giving me a watery smile.

A new tension hummed through her. I could tell she’d moved aside grief for later and let her rage roar through.