“What in the stars does your quarrel with Marcèllian have to do with me?”
Tassarion looked at me as if I’d grown ten heads. He squeezed my shoulders with his wing, scrunching his nose, his eyes narrowing to slits.
“You aremy wife. Have you misplaced your senses? Thefirstthing that rot-eating swine would do is come for whom I love most. I lost my family once already, Nahomie. I’m not doing it again.”
My hearts stuttered.
Whom I love most.
I coughed, my eyes watering. I didn’t know how to process those words. Their meaning. Their truth. My body was engulfed in flames as I turned to give Tassarion my full attention. I looked at him as he looked back at me. Neither of us had the bravado to address his slip-up, so I tapped danced past it. To my relief, his shoulders relaxed in gratitude. He wasn’t ready to process what he’d just accidentally confessed, either.
“So now there’s a chance I can end up as collateral?”
“You should’ve known that when you said ‘yes’ to a king, Phantimèssa.”
He wasn’t wrong. It didn’t mean I liked it.
“The arrangement of our bond is not convenient. I get that,”Tassarion said after a moment.“Being with me is dangerous. I am cursed. Exiled. Hated.”
He looked away. His throat bobbed with emotion. My hearts twisted in agony for him. I hated that he carried so much emotional turmoil. Even when he’d come home, I could feel the weight on his shoulders weighing him down.
I scooted close to him, pressing my thigh against his. He sucked in a sharp breath. Bit his lower lip. A spike of heat pooled in my stomach, making my toes curl. I leaned closer to the king, hooking a finger beneath his chin, turning his face towards me. His eyes glistened, but he did a rotting good job of keeping his tears from falling. My throat swelled. I just could not see him like this.
I brought a hand to his cheek. Brought his forehead to mine.
“You are not a burden, Tassarion. Nor are you hated. Especially not by me.”
Tassarion was shaking. His breaths came in ragged bursts as he leaned into me.
“I am a monster, Nahomie. One such as I doesn’t have the privilege of dreams. Desires. Being wanted... Chosen. I’m too...”
He choked. His shoulders wouldn’t stop trembling. Without thinking, I pushed into his lap and wrapped my arms around him, holding him tight. He gripped my waist and took several deep breaths.
“Deformed,”he whispered down the bond.“An ogre. A monstrosity. A blight.”
It pained me to hear him speak about himself like this. I remember when I first met him, and his sheer size alone was intimidating. But his scars never scared me. They never pushed me away. If anything, they’d immediately triggered a desire in me that only grew with every dawn I spent in this manor.
I could sense he didn’t want answers right now. Didn’t need me to fix anything. To pretend that I could. So, I didn’t. Instead, I listened and sat with him in his pain. In his unexpressed grief. I held him tight, littering his forehead with endless kisses, as we listened to Vivienne’s enchanting voice.
For the first time since being brought to Everthorn Manor, I wanted to know Tassarion, and I meantreallyknow him, for who he was. He was more than a king with a hated throne and an empty court. More than what happened to him in captivity. He was more than whatever Marcèllian tried to break him into becoming. He was my husband. My wingmate. And I wanted to discover all the hidden parts of his six Mortent hearts. His mind. To soak up all of his wit.
I traced the many stitches on his face, neck, and chest, where he’d left his tunic untucked. I kissed his temple, and he sighed, leaning into me as if he was finally at peace. At rest. I petted his hair before resting my head on top of his.
So much of what I’d believed before coming here had changed. I initially thought he was a monster. A traitor to his angels. An evil unleashed on this island. But Tassarion was justa devoted king who wanted to love, lead, and care for all of his citizens well. And though he wouldn’t say it, he also wanted to be seen for who he wasafterhis captivity and still be loved, too.
We remained in silence, arms wrapped around one another, the walls between us broken. Vivienne sang brilliantly. She made me proud. I’d have to visit her and let her know. Tassarion swayed under the sound of her voice as if in a hypnotic spell. He took my hand, intertwining our fingers. He was lost in the music, but I was lost in him. I watched a veil of peace settle over his features. He brushed a thumb over my hand as he breathed deeply, sighing.
I understood it then.
The music helped him with whatever darkness he possessed. Whatever turmoil he fought against. Heneededthe music. But if the music could help him, why did he need to bond to me?
“Music is a balm, mi Phantimèssa. Your blood is a cure.”
I swallowed. My blood.Stars. Why blood? Why couldn’t it be a kiss? Or a hug? Or a homemade meal? Tassarion chuckled down our bond. I’d forgotten he could hear my thoughts.
“I’d happily take allof those. But alas. It will only break by bond and blood. Without both, I will remain cursed.”
I clung to Tassarion’s hand, lost in my thoughts. Then Tassarion leapt from the loveseat, distraught at the commotion below. I looked down and saw what I’d known would happen.
