Page 92 of Crown of Slumber

I closed my eyes, concentrating on the feel of his hard chest against my fingers. He was warm and solid, and I concentrated on that. He was real. He was here.

His chest rose with his inhale. Long and slow. Then it dropped as he exhaled.

I concentrated on that singular movement. Up and down. In and out.

Eventually, the blaring in my ears settled. My pulse slowed, and my breaths calmed to match his. Tears streamed down my face, but I couldn’t even feel the moisture. All I could think about was his chest moving with his calm, steady breaths.

I wasn’t sure how long we stood like that—how long he held my hand to his chest—but after what felt like an eternity, I opened my eyes and looked at him. His emerald eyes shone in the darkness, gazing at me with a tenderness I did not deserve.

I had been terrible to him. I had flung unfair accusations at him and cast judgments I was in no position to make.

As much as I hated to admit it, I needed him. Not just for our bargain or for my own protection, but for myself. He grounded me. He understood me.

I needed him.

My mouth opened, and an apology was on the tip of my tongue. I was ready to unleash everything, my sorrows, my secrets, my trust—I wanted to give it all to him.

But instead of an apology, I blurted, “I attacked the witch clans.”

His brows knitted together. “I beg your pardon?”

I took a deep breath, my head finally clearing, as I said, “Five years ago, I visited the witch clans to find a solution to my blocked fae magic. Samiria refused to treat me, citing some vague and unhelpful reason—which I now know had to do with my witch rune—but one witch wanted to help me. Her name was Shay.” Emotion clogged my throat, and I paused, finding it difficult to swallow. Fenn traced circles along the back of my hand, and I focused on the motion. It pulled me from my chaotic thoughts for long enough for me to continue.

“She cast a spell for me and painted a rune on my hand,” I went on. “It was a rune to awaken.”

Fenn sucked in a sharp breath. He clearly knew what this rune meant.

I nodded, my eyes closing again. “My magic…exploded,setting ablaze all the tents in the encampment. And Shay—Shay—” I broke off with a sob.

“Oh gods, Aurelia,” Fenn whispered, using his free hand to stroke my cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

“She only wanted to help me,” I wailed, my face crumpling with grief. “She was the only one who would help me! She was just an apprentice; she didn’t know any better. And I killed her! I k-killed three witches that day, Fenn. So you were r-right. I’m in noposition to judge you for your magic. Because m-mine is far worse.I’mthe monster. You were right. I’m unseelie. I have to be. No one else would b-be capable of such destruction and pain.”

“Aurelia,” Fenn said. On his lips, my name was both a comfort and an admonishment. He brought me to his chest, his arms encircling me. He continued tracing those soothing circles along my back. The motion was relaxing, but it was far more than I deserved. I shouldn’t be comforted right now. I should be punished for my crimes. My magic was volatile and dangerous. I needed to be locked up.

How was I any better than the Dream Mage?

I clung to Fenn’s thin tunic, my tears soaking the fabric. I burrowed my face in his firm chest, unleashing all my grief. And still he held me, continuing to rub my back, his cheek against my head as he pressed kisses to my hair.

At long last, I withdrew from him, trying to duck my head to hide my swollen face. But he slid a knuckle under my chin, tilting my face up to meet his. With his other hand, he swiped the tears from my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek.

“Why did you cry when Tyrone died?” he asked.

I blinked. I hadn’t expected him to ask that. “What?”

“Why did you cry for him?”

I frowned, struggling to recall the emotions of that moment. “I—I was in shock. A man died in my arms.”

“But that man was vile,” Fenn said. “He assaulted you. And you probably weren’t the only one. He wasn’t worthy of your tears.”

Not to mention Father made a bargain with him offering either my dragons or my hand in marriage,I thought. Although, it occurred to me that, with the man dead, that bargain had been nullified.

I shook my head. “In that moment, it didn’t matter. He was a protector of his people. Despite the mistakes he made, he was a good king. And with his death, his people lost their ruler. I mourned that.”

Fenn’s eyebrows lifted, a small smile lighting his face. “Exactly.”

My brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

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