Page 57

And she stays like that.

The fire pops. Outside, the wind has died, and the silence is enormous. I can hear my own heart slamming against my ribs.

She doesn't look up.

I can't stand it.

Tonight keeps playing behind my eyes. At the table, laughing so hard she cried while Rhydian stole food off her plate. In the garden with her face turned up to the fireworks, gold and crimson light painted across her cheeks. Throwing her arms around my neck when I gave her that stupid little dragon. Kissing me like I was something precious.

Coming to us in that ribbon. Reaching for us.

Choosing us.

What if that's gone now? What if she looks up and all of it has vanished? What if she decides we're liars? That everything we gave her was a trick? That we kept her here, in our bed, under false pretenses?

We should have told her sooner. I know that. I knew it every single day.

I didn't want to. I was too afraid.

Because for the first time in my life, someone looked at me and wasn't scared. Someone touched my scar and smiled. Someone sat beside me by the fire in silence and seemed to like it. Someone loved me.

I don't know how to go back to before.

And I don't think I can.

"Elara?" My voice breaks on her name. I don't care.

She looks up.

"Can you forgive us?" I ask. "For keeping it from you?" I swallow hard. "And do you still want us? Now that you know?"

She looks at me. Her eyes are wet and bright and full of something I can't read. A dozen things at once. I search her face for an answer and can't find it.

She opens her mouth… and someone pounds on the cabin door.

I'm out of bed before I know I've moved.

Heavy fists. Three hard knocks, rattling the door in its frame. And now, finally, I smell them. I've been so drowned in her, so wrapped up in her scent and her skin and everything that happened between us tonight, that I didn't notice them coming.

Men. Several of them. Horses, sweaty and exhausted. Leather. Cold mountain air. Wet wool.

Strangers.

At our door.

Anger rolls up through me, hot and fast. Someone has interrupted the most important moment of my life. She was about to answer. She was about to tell me.

Whoever's out there is going to regret it.

We dress fast. Trousers. Shirts. Boots, this time. Behind me, Elara is scrambling into her clothes, too.

"Stay here," I tell her.

She ignores me. Of course she does. When we stride to the door, she's right behind me, on her toes, trying to see over my shoulder.

Zarek yanks the door open.

A man is standing on our porch.