Page 100 of A Sun Scorched Bloom

Janelle’s gut twisted at the pain on Erik’s face, and she wished desperately that she hadn’t said that. The truth was, she did feel safe; she knew that Erik would protect her at any cost. But when he hadn’t shown up to drag her to training, it had sparked some deep insecurity inside her. It had been irrational, but the feeling that she wasn’t important enough had been all consuming.

She was just a human, and not even the one who was going to save them all from the Black King. It didn’t bother her, really. She loved Lea, and was proud of her friend for embracing her fears and trying to make the world a better place. Janelle was fine with being the sidekick to the future queen of Desia. But not to Erik. To Erik, she wanted tomatter. "You asked me if I’ve ever been loved before. Years ago, I thought I was. I was only seventeen. I met a boy on Fire Night—a soldier."

Erik stiffened, his eyes flashing with red hot fire. Letting go of his hands, Janelle placed herself between him and the balcony railing, bringing his arms to rest on either side of her so they could both look out at the water. It would be easier for him if he couldn’t see the pain she knew would be in her eyes—and easier for herself, too, if she was being honest. She wouldn’t be able to hide the sharp, stabbing agony. Not from Erik. He’d always seen right through her.

"We were… together, I guess. Jakob found a way to always be among the soldiers sent to Bearswillow, and he would come see me whenever he could. We kept it a secret." Janelle’s hand traced the scar on her hip.

"If you weretogether," the word sounded like poison slipping from Erik’s clenched jaw, "why would you keep it a secret?"

"Plenty of girls in the village have a little fun with the soldiers on Fire Night, but to actually start a relationship with them? With a man who serves the Black King? A soldier who helps keep our village hungry and our men working to the bone? It wouldn’t be tolerated. Not to mention that not everyone is so accepting of relationships between humans and Fae."

Erik leaned down and pressed his forehead to the back of Janelle’s head, and she sensed him trying to control his breathing as she continued on with her story.

"One day my parents were gone, and Jakob came to see me. We were, um, being intimate." Smoke began to twist up from the railing, Erik’s hands leaving scorch marks that spread from beneath his palms on the stone, but Janelle ignored it. If she didn’t get it out now, she never would.

"His brother had found out about us, and he was furious. He came to find Jakob, and when he saw us together, he flew into a rage. They took turns beating me, Stefan and then his friends, and Jakob just stood there. He couldn’t even look at me, fucking coward." Janelle swallowed down the bitter recollection of blood in her mouth, wincing at the painful memories. "Stefan threw me into a table with a clay vase on top. It was my mom’s. My dad made it for her when I was born. I can still picture the little flowers that he painted along the top rim."

Janelle sniffled. For some reason, the devastated look on her mother’s face when she’d seen the pieces of the vase in a pile by the fireplace was always what she pictured when she thought of that day.

"It shattered and cut my hip." Janelle swallowed, wishing she could keep the last bit of the story to herself, but knowing that she needed to tell Erik the complete truth. "Stefan took a large, pointed shard and—he pinned me in place as his friends held my arms above my head. I was just laying there, naked and bleeding," Janelle felt Erik’s ragged breaths and the heat from the fire flickering across his skin that he was somehow preventing from burning her. His hands were now consumed with flames, but for some reason the heat against her back was reassuring.

"Did he…" Erik couldn’t say the words, but Janelle knew what he was asking.

"No. They didn’t." Janelle took a deep breath, knowing that what she was about to say could change everything. "He said I was human filth, unworthy of his brother, and unworthy of mothering his child."

"You were pregnant?" The railing of the balcony cracked, fissures spreading in long irregular crevices from the burned surface. "He hurt you, while you were pregnant!?" Erik seethed.

"No!" Janelle said hurriedly, shaking her head. "No, I wasn’t. But we’d…" Janelle trailed off, clearing her throat. "Stefan said he wouldn’t allow his brother to risk it. He stabbed the shard into my stomach, starting from the cut at my hip and twisting and ripping my insides to pieces. I think he wanted to make sure that not only could I not carry his brother's child, but that I would never be able to carry a child at all." Her voice cracked at the confession. She’d never told a soul, not even her closest friend. Admitting it out loud made it feel real.

Erik opened his mouth to speak but Janelle continued, needing to get the rest out. Needing it to be finished.

"He left me there, bleeding. Jakob told me that he’d come back for me someday, that he’d get me out of Bearwsillow and we’d run away together, but I told him if he did, I’d gut him. I never saw him again."

Erik exhaled slowly, and Janelle swore she saw smoke from his nose dispersing into the air.

"Somehow, I made it to Lea’s mom. Adelaide healed me as much as she could, but the damage was done. I swore her to secrecy. She’s the only one that knows what happened to me—besides you, now." Janelle hung her head. "I was doing okay. I’d moved on, and then the tirror in the woods showed Stefan to me. Showed me all of them. They beat me, again, and now I can’t get them out of my mind. I’m broken," Janelle admitted with a sob.

Erik slowly turned Janelle around until she was facing him and caged between his large body and the balcony railing, his hands still crushing the fissured stone. "Are you finished?" he asked gently, a severe juxtaposition between the fury in his eyes and the softness in his voice.

Janelle nodded, unable to speak. She worried if she opened her mouth, years of pent-up screams would come rushing from her throat.

"You arenotbroken." Erik lifted her face, holding it firmly in his scalding hands and refusing to allow her to look away. "You are a survivor. You put yourself back together, so much stronger than you were before. You areeverythingthat I want, and so much more than I deserve."

"Weren’t you listening, Erik? I’m damaged. I can’t have children, and—"

"You arenotdamaged," Erik interrupted. "From the moment you stole that dagger of mine as we walked back from the gardens in Auropera, I knew I had to have you, in whatever way you would let me.Youare what I want. Not children. Notanythingelse. Only you." Erik was shaking her, and the passion in his voice almost made Janelle believe him.

"You don’t mean that," she sobbed. He couldn’t.

"I have never meant anything more. For months, I’ve tried to understand why you refused to let me in. But I told you, I’m a patient man. I knew that someday, when you felt safe, you’d tell me the truth. And I knew that whenever that time came, nothing you could say would make me change my mind."

"I’m scared Stefan will try to find me again, finish what he started," Janelle admitted, blinking away the image of his cruel face as he’d plunged the shard into her belly. The image that followed her into her nightmares.

"He won’t have the chance," Erik vowed, the heat from his hands on her arms almost unbearable. "They can count their days, every one of them, because their deaths aremine. When I find them, I’ll incinerate them inch by inch until they beg for death. And I will look them in the eyes as I tell them that I am here because I loveyou, the human they deemed worthless. The woman theythoughtthey broke." Erik’s words held a sense of finality to them, as if fate was sealing them in the stars as he spoke them.

Janelle had no doubt Erik would follow through with his promise, and then, it would be over. The nightmares, the memories. She would never have to worry about them finding her again. Relief filled her lungs as she shared the burden of her pain, her past. A weight lifted off her shoulders as she realized that even though she was broken, Eriklovedher. He lovedher.

Janelle’s heart raced, and wings the size of the heron’s she watched soaring over the ocean beat in her stomach. Janelle didn’t often cry, and yet she was, a sob working its way up her throat. It had terrified her to be vulnerable, to confess her deepest insecurities, but Erik had somehow made it easy. And even with her soul and past laid bare, he loved her anyway.

---