Bastien and I shared a smile. “A truly horrifying prospect,” he said. Then shouted back, “I couldn’t possibly forget.”
My friends joined us on the road, riding beside us. Natalia. Tyson. Everyone. We’d all come so fartogether. I took a moment to really look at all of them. To memorize their faces. Even the soldiers we’d brought with us.
The wind picked up as we rode out, carrying with it the scent of frost, distant pines, and old magick. For what felt like hours, we saw nothing but snow and ice. Bastien and I rode in silence. And soon, my tired eyes closed, and I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 46
Apaiser
CLAIRE
We made camp one last time as the sun dipped below the horizon. Bastien explained it was tradition to rest for a night before the trek up the mountains. One night to prepare the soldiers to see their families and mourn the dead privately. The sky was painted in golds and pinks and soft purples.
Our tent was small, but I didn’t mind. The deer hide kept out the worst of the cold. As I ducked inside, the weight of the day settled over me until I couldn’t hold back the tears. They dripped down my cheeks like hot streams, and I wiped them away as I collapsed on a pile of furs.
For a while, I was too tired and heartsick to do anything but lie there and stare at the flicker of the campfire beyond the tent’s opening. Muffled voices nearby reminded me I wasn’t alone.
We’d won. We’d negotiated the peace that Bastienhad been chasing for centuries. Mama was gone. The choker was nothing but a scrap of lace. I had my sister back. But the cost was high. We’d lost Devlinn. And many families had been torn apart. Like the children that we’d found in the tunnels.
If I let myself think about it for too long, I would collapse. So I let myself imagine the future—a quiet life, far from battles. A life where Bastien and I could be at peace. Where the orphans we were bringing back with us to Château Rose could start a new life. I couldn’t give them their parents back, but we could offer them a safe place to heal. Where they didn’t need to worry about food or about someone stealing them in the night.
The flap of the tent stirred, and Bastien stepped inside. I sat up, wiping the moisture from my face. His pale blue eyes met mine, and for a moment, the storm in my chest calmed.
Whether it was our bond or just the sight of him, I wasn’t sure. But when he sank onto his knees beside me and took my face in his hands, I closed my eyes and kissed him, fingers tangling in his hair, tears still falling.
With my lips pressed against his, I said, “We did it.”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he kissed me again. Hungrier this time. Like it was the only thing he needed. Not my blood. Not my body. Just the heat of my mouth. Just… me. His hands slid from my face, trailing down my neck to my shoulders, his cool touch soothing and familiar. I clung to him, my fingers tangling in his hair, the silky strands a sharp contrast to the rough calluses of his hands.
His breath was uneven when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against mine. “When we return home, we’ll send outinvitations for Tyson’s Investiture. And we’ll make preparations to leave.”
The tears spilled freely now. I loved Château Rose. It was my home. But I was relieved to find a quieter life. Bastien wiped my tears away with the rough pad of his thumb.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”
His hand cupped my cheek, tilting my face so I couldn’t avoid his gaze. “Don’t,” he said, his voice firm. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Not with me.”
The bond between us threaded through the spaces where words weren’t enough. He tilted my chin, his lips brushing against mine again, this time softer, slower. The grief that had been sitting on my chest eased, one breath at a time, as his hands moved to my dress, fisting sections of the heavy fabric and pulling it up. Cursing under his breath when he found the soft stockings I wore underneath.
“Must everything about you tease me?”
He ran his hands up the smooth fabric and unhooked my stockings. His fingers on my bare thighs sent sparks down my spine.
“I need you,” he breathed against my mouth.
I pulled him closer and unfastened his cloak. Its weight fell away, leaving only him.
There was nothing restrained about the way his hands roamed over my body, claiming every inch as though he could rewrite the hurt written into my skin. His lips followed, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along my neck, my collarbone, each touch lighting a fire that chased away the cold.
I didn’t think of the war, the witches, or the wolves. For now, there was only the sound of our breaths and the slide of skin against skin as he pulled himself free and guided me onto his lap. I gripped his shoulders and sank down on him. Letting myself drown in the moment, in him.
With our foreheads pressed together, I didn’t care who was listening or what they thought about it. I moaned for him. I twisted my fingers into his hair. Riding him up and down. Over and over. It felt good, but I was distracted. Too much had happened, and I felt disconnected from my own pleasure.
When our eyes met, his were burning with an intensity that left me breathless. He knew I wasn’t close. He could tell this was different for me. “Do you want to stop?”
I shook my head. “No. No. I need this too.”
“Do you want me to open our bond? I can help you forget, just for right now.”
