“If you see him like this, it won’t be the burns you’ll carry—it’ll be the choice. To bind yourself to a man the realm will never let you keep.”
Her eyes flashed.
“That isn’t for the realm to decide.”
His jaw worked, grief and anger warring in his face.
“Amerei, he’s Aerdanian. No title, no name the nobles will honor. They will call him nothing—and they’ll call you worse for choosing him.”
She drew a biting breath, but he pressed on, softer now, almost breaking: “I can’t let him destroy himself for it.”
Her fingers tightened around the latch.
“Then let me in, Gabriel.”
Her voice trembled, but her will did not.
“Because he already has.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
We Survived
“I’ve wanted this since I first saw you in the Glaston forest.”
Amerei set the candle on the table.
Its flame quivered as she knelt before him. Oil caught the light along her skin, turning her into something half divine, half mortal.
He lay broken—and yet when his gaze found hers, it still undid her. Trembling, she bent and pressed her lips to his hand.
“What have I done to you…”
Her voice broke, tears sliding hot and unbidden.
His thumb brushed weakly over her knuckles, blistered skin still aching to soothe her.
“Zeporah was stronger than we knew.”
Her tears fell faster. She pressed his hand to her heart, desperate to shield him from her guilt.
“I should have turned us back. I should never have—”
“Amerei…”
His rasp was low, unrelenting. His palm, ruined though it was, lifted to her cheek.
“We survived.”
She shook her head, her chest shuddering beneath his hand.
“How can you say that?” The words tumbled out. “Look at you. You’re burned, broken—because of me.”
“My love…”
Her breath caught.
He searched her face, eyes dark with pain and reverence both.
