A scathing laugh escaped me. The Goddess’s words blistered through me then, raw and wounding—maybe I didn’t know my power either.
“I’m serious, Sylaira.” He gripped my shoulders and forced me to look at him. “Before our bond snapped into place, something in me was already moving toward you. Call it instinct, call it our dormant connection, I don’t care. I tried to ignore it, but I failed. You were carved into my soul long before I understood why. Your defiance, your quiet loyalty, your refusal to break…I admired you before I even touched you.”
I stuck my tongue into the side of my cheek, weighing his sincerity. My attention drifted to the scarred words over his heart.
DUTY ABOVE ALL
“You are a storm, Sylaira. The only one I’ve ever walked into willingly.”
He picked up one of my hands and placed it on his chest. The pads of my fingers traced the raised runes as the steady thrum, thrum, thrum into my palm grounded me.
“You will find your way again,” he promised, soft and shattering. “I’m going to make sure you dance again, and soon. That will help you more than anything else, I think.”
Air lodged in my throat. It had been so long since I’d properly risen to the tips of my toes, arms lifted toward the sky. Since I’d airstepped across a space. Since I’d spiraled beneath the sky.
Movement always helped me process my emotions, but since Vaeron had chased me into the mountains, I’d been denied what I’d spent decades honing to cope with the weight of my power.
I desperately needed it again.
“If you ever feel lost in the downpour, know you can tug on our bond and I will lead you home,” he promised, the velvet of his tone pebbling my skin. “I have failed you in so many ways, and I will spend the rest of my life atoning for those moments. I want to be your sanctuary, Sylaira. Trust me. Even though it’s terrifying.”
How was it that this male perfectly understood the tumult raging inside me? Surely our connection couldn’t convey the depths of it in such a way. I didn’t even understand it myself.
“Thank you,” I managed to say.
Vaeron swiped his thumbs across my cheeks, catching my tears. “Always.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my lips.
The release had left me feeling oddly…cleansed. Like by admitting my fears, I was free of them. That didn’t remove the ache of grief and guilt, but it abated. I sighed against him.
“While I would prefer to spend the rest of the day in bed with you, we really do need to get moving. I won’t risk Iaoth’s wrath on you today, not while her anger is still so fresh. At least for the next few days, we have to be perfect, dutiful servants of the crown.”
I nodded, and he released me, his touch lingering to the last moment. Rolling out of bed, I found my rumpled clothes and shimmied into them. Vaeron tugged on a loose pair of pants and nothing else. His sculpted physique drew my attention immediately.
I couldn’t help but drink in the sight of him.
At least if my choice in life partner was outside of my control, I’d gotten someone who looked likethat.
And who fucked like a God.
A smirk curved his lips. I realized then I’d been caught staring. But Vaeron dragged his gaze over me as if he was undressing me in his mind. Images of positions he’d put me in flitted down our connection. After everything we’d shared through the night, I found myself eager to return that night so he could be inside me again.
Yet as we parted ways, so too did the fog of bliss that had hidden the reality of our new situation.
Vaeron would face a judgement, a reckoning, beneath the divine eye of the Goddess.
Ice slithered through my veins as a singular worry rose.
What would happen to me if She found him lacking and killed the one person who protected me like I was something sacred?
49
Light trickled into my room through the half-open curtains as I limped inside. My thighs ached—and not from walking on my injured knee. A shadow darted from the dark bathing chamber, nearly knocking me over.
“Sylaira! There you are,” Heraphia said, her pearlescent hair plaited and rolling down her back. But instead of one neat braid, shimmering strands hung loose, like she’d been tossing and turning and tugging them free.
“Goddess, Heraphia, you startled me,” I gasped, hand flying to my chest. My heart beat a staccato rhythm into my palm. What if she had been someone sent by the Korona to capture me and drag me before her as some sort of public spectacle?
I wouldn’t put it past my mate’s sister.
