“Will the glimmer in the forest become brighter?” she asks softly.
“Yes. Once ussha finishes spreading to these parts, the forest will be much brighter. A fully ussha-blessed forest is a sight to behold.” I glance at her profile as I imagine taking her on a walk through a Winter Court forest, only to remember that ussha is leaving my homeland. During my last visit to the Winter Court, the glimmer of ussha was disturbingly faint, an echo of what it once was.
She gives a thoughtful hum. Her gaze remains fixed on the forest beyond the city, but I feel the weight of her emotions pressing against my mind. Sadness, longing, even guilt.
I tighten my arms around her, wishing I could banish the shadows from her consciousness.
“You are safe with me, Helena. Always. I will never let anyone hurt you, and I will never hurt you.”
Her shoulders rise and fall with a slow breath. Then her gaze finally lifts to mine.
“How can you make such a promise?” she asks. “What if I… tried to escape you? Or what if I… conspired against you?” She swallows. “You can’t predict the future, King Theron. You can’t account for every dark possibility. One day you might want to hurt me. Even kill me.”
I grip her shoulders, turning her to face me. “Never.” My voice resonates with conviction. “Never,” I repeat. I give her a gentle shake, as though I can force her to understand.
Her eyes flare wide, and she blinks rapidly. “I wish I could believe you. I want so badly to believe you. But everyone I’ve ever loved has either died or gone missing.” Her voice cracks. “Surely I’m next. It’s going to be my turn soon.”
“No.” I pull her closer. “I won’t let anything happen to you, darling human. I swear it before the gods themselves. I will keep you safe. Always.”
She gives a slight nod but doesn’t say anything. Her thoughts soon reach my mind:
I pray he’s telling the truth.I pray he’ll never lose control, no matter what he learns about me.
Why did she just mention escaping me? And conspiring against me? Does the latter tie back to her visions, the visions she is so desperate to keep hidden?
I want to tell her everything. That the bond’s partial silence frightens me. That hearing her thoughts while she cannot hearmine feels unbalanced, unfair. That I know about her visions, even if I don’t yet understand them. That I know she fears what the priestess might reveal. That I suspect there is more to her than she realizes.
Instead, I lean down and press my lips to her temple.
She stills. Then, slowly, she leans into me.
My heart stutters as she wraps her arms around my waist and hugs me back.
Gods, I adore her. I care for her. The feeling is so powerful it rivals the mating bond I once shared with Elssandra, and guilt flickers at the comparison. I push aside thoughts of my late, traitorous mate and focus on Helena instead.
The one female I now realize I cannot live without.
We stand on the balcony, hugging one another, as snow flurries fall from the sky, surrounding us with traces of my winter magic. She doesn’t mind the cold or the snow. She only truly shivers or gets goosebumps when I’m touching her with a slow, teasing caress. Or when I place my lips to her ear and whisper something. I find myself doing that now, letting my lips graze her ear as I whisper, “Let’s go back inside, Helena. I’ll have a bath prepared for you, then we can spend the rest of the evening in bed. I want to hold you as you fall asleep.”
I want far more than that, and I know she senses it, but I keep those thoughts to myself. Tonight, what matters most is that she feels safe. Safe with me.
The very idea that I might ever hurt her is startling. I never want her to doubt my desire to protect her from every danger this realm holds. And if I ever believed I might lose control, if I ever thought I could become a threat to her, I would fly straight into the heart of a blazing volcano, letting the molten lava consume me before she could ever feel pain at my hands.
“A bath sounds nice,” she eventually says, then peers up at me with an open, vulnerable expression that steals my breath. “And so does falling asleep in your arms.”
Her confession warms my icy soul. I give her a brief smile and turn her toward the balcony doors. They open under a gust of winter magic, and I escort her into the warmth of the bedchamber. I get her situated near the hearth, then leave her side only long enough to give orders to the glamoured slaves.
On my return, I approach Helena with careful steps. Given her most recent thoughts, I fear any sudden movement might startle her. I pause beside the sofa, watching her profile as she stares into the fire. The orange glow washes over her, accentuating the darkness of her hair and her pale, almost luminescent skin. If she were a bit taller, with pointed ears, she might pass for an Unseelie princess. Yet she is perfect as she is, beautiful, enchanting, and virtuous in ways I could never hope to be. Despite the darkness she’s endured, she radiates goodness, a purity of spirit, and compassion for her fellow humans. She has not hardened, nor turned cold and vengeful as one might expect.
“Helena.” I whisper her name like a prayer, and she slowly turns her head.
Our eyes meet. To my relief, I sense her growing calm. Her peace and her sudden hopefulness, a spark that she recognizes as a rare trait in herself. She often tends to worry that the worst will happen, but as she looks at me, she hopes and prays with all her might that I meant what I’d said, that I would never hurt her.
I round the sofa and fall to my knees before her, heedless of the slaves that enter the room carrying buckets of steaming water. I cup her face and stare into her soulful gaze.
Then I lean forward, close my eyes, and press my lips to hers.
But this kiss is different from our first. This one is filled with promise and sweetness. I slowly glide my tongue into her mouth, my low growl mingling with her soft whimper. She reaches forme, placing her hands on my chest, not to push me away, but to grip my tunic and pull me closer.
