Page 105 of Feathers and Thorns

“Don’t,” she replied, grasping his wrist that had been reaching for her leg. He was about to comment about her being stubborn, but before he could, she said, “Not before I say what I need to say.”

He let out a strained breath and sat, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands shook, and he could still feel the coolness of his father’s blade penetrating his chest. He itched for his rapiers that were no longer by his side, wanting to rejoin the battle, but he would give Soren this moment. Because, as beasts and men fought and fell around them, there was still only her.

“Okay, little bird,” he said softly, waiting.

“I love you!” she half-cried, half-yelled then slapped her hands to her mouth.

Rook let out a whisper of a laugh before he replied, “I love you, too, little bird.”

She looked at him sheepishly, wanting to elaborate. “I need you to know what I mean when I say those words,” she continued. “People say I love you all the time, for all sorts of different reasons, and I want you to know mine.”

He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Go on,” he coaxed.

She blew out a breath and spoke again, laying her emotions on the ground before them. “When I say those words, I mean I want to start and end the day with you. Every moment with you, no matter how small, is important to me. I want to bottle your laugh. I want your every kiss and every touch to brand my skin and forsake me to all others. I want you to know that you are mine, and I am yours, and no being in Entheas or Anistera can take that from us. And when we die, I will follow you into the after to float with you amongst the stars until we cease to exist. You are it for me.” She was breathless when she finished, and her heart was hammering against the cage of her ribs.

“I am yours?” Rook asked softly, testing the words on his lips.

“Yes,” Soren breathed.

“And you are mine?”

“Always,” she replied, and he pressed his mouth to hers.

Something happened then. As they kissed, an invisible tether took shape inside them, bonding them to each other forevermore. Their hearts were two pieces of the same flame that ignited both of their souls, their love burning hotter than a thousand stars and a thousand blazing suns. The sky seemed to rise and fall with their breaths as the bond fell into place, confirming something they had known for a long time.

They were mates, and even though fate had destined their paths to cross, it would never change the fact that their love was what truly bound them to one another.

They picked up every broken piece of each other to build something new, together. A perfectly imperfect love. A love built on broken promises and shattered dreams. On darkness and trauma. They were the light to each other’s day and the sun that broke through each other’s storms. They were more than mates; they were twin flames. Two pieces of the same soul searching the earth and heavens for its other half.

Maker help anyone who tried to keep them apart.

“We can destroy him now,” Rook breathed, the mating bond sizzling between them. It was then Rook noticed his armor, along with the Oculus, were gone, and Soren’s hope fell.

“We have to get it back,” Soren said, trying to get to her feet.

Rook had found another healing draught from a nearby med kit for her leg, but it was still weak.

“I’ll get it and come back to you,” Rook said, standing and moving out of her reach.

“No!” Soren cried. “I just got you back.”

He leaned forward and held her chin gently. “You can’t walk, little bird,” he said softly.

“No”—Soren smirked—“but I can fly.”

* * *

Soren lifted her bow, providing cover fire for the Anisteran rebellion. She nocked an arrow that was stolen from a dead man’s quiver and let it fly. The feathered shaft cut through the air, whistling softly, before embedding through the side of Adriel’s beast.

Soren cursed and readjusted her aim. She had hit her target, but not where she had wanted to.

Bows from Nuraka were designed to be used with a thumb draw. It was an archery style unfamiliar to her. That, mixed with the fact that she was flying bareback on a winged horse, hindered her accuracy further.

“Come on; let’s circle again,” she said sternly, nocking another arrow. This one met its mark, striking one of Adriel’s followers through the chest.

She cheered silently and continued assisting from above while Rook darted from one enemy to the next, zigzagging a path toward his father. She squeezed her eyes shut, sending a prayer to the Maker to watch over him.

She had realized weeks ago that her prayers were unfounded, considering that Adriel was now the Architect of Anistera, the new god they were expected to worship, but she sent her hopes skyward, anyway. Maybe the previous leader of Anistera would somehow hear her prayers and provide assistance.

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