Page 127 of Until the Stars Fall

I can’t do this!

Yes, you can!

My mind continued to rage until finally I forced myself to focus on her alone. She threw my shirt open and shoved me back onto the bed, creating an unbearable chasm between us. My protest froze in my throat at the sight of her studying my inked chest. Her fingers traced the edges of the armor and glided over the words along my collarbone.

“Until the stars fall,” she murmured, sliding her eyes to mine, capturing me in those dark blues and pulling at the last thread of my resistance.

Then I had her down on the bed, rolling her onto her back so that I hovered above her, drinking in the cocktail of emotions swirling in her eyes. Sadness. Fear. Doubt. I wanted to save her from each of them, even if only here and now in this moment I alone would remember.

Gently I pushed a lock of her blonde hair away from her face and placed a kiss on her forehead before losing myself in her again. Lifting her hand to my chest, I pressed her palm against the family crest that covered my heart.

“Until the stars fall, Sapphire, I serve you. My bride. My love. My mate.”

CHAPTER 62

Lieke

Throwing the pillow off my head, I stared up at the ceiling, which was dimly lit by the soft moonlight pouring in through my open drapes. Although I was alone in my room, heat crept into my cheeks as I thought about the vivid images from my dream. It had seemed so real, as if we had truly been back at the inn, but it couldn’t have been anything except a dream. Not with how he’d looked at me.

And what he’d said.

My mate.

Don’t be ridiculous.Dream Connor simply said what you wanted to hear.

But was that, in fact, what I wanted to hear?

Reaching up, I clutched my hand to my chest, right over my heart. It thumped wildly, and I wished I could ignore the thought of his body against me. Dreaming of him and holding onto these fake memories would not help me in the long run. Even so, why had the dream ended before anything actually happened between us? Why had I woken up before he’d really touched me?

Grumbling, I rolled over and roared into my pillow.

Pull yourself together, Lieke. It will all be okay. It will all work out as it’s meant to.

But why had he run from me in the stables? Why had he ignored me when I stopped by his room yesterday? It was absurd to think he was legitimately scared of me. How my brain had come up with that gem of an answer was beyond me.

Well, he couldn’t ignore me forever. After all, we still had a betrothal to fake—and for several months, at that. If he refused to be around me or speak to me, this would all fall apart, and then where would I be?

The gallows appeared in my mind’s eye, and my hand flew to my neck protectively.

He wouldn’t let that happen.

But with how he was acting now, I wasn’t so sure that was still the case.

Embarrassed and humiliated by Connor’s dismissal, I refused to take my meals in the dining room with the Durands, and Gretchen was dutifully delivering my food to my room. But Mrs. Bishop had sent a message with my lunch today, insisting I come join her for supper this evening. As much as I hated risking a possible run-in with Connor—or anyone else, honestly—Mrs. Bishop was not one to be ignored.

So as soon as the sun began to sink below the treetops, I tentatively opened my door and stared straight across the hallway to his room. Had he come out at all since we’d returned? Or was he in there devising a way to spend the next six months without having to see his fiancée?

Without thinking, I tiptoed over and lifted my hand to knock. Faint footsteps inside his room gave me pause, and a new wave of fear crashed into me. It wasn’t like the fear of being sent to the executioner I’d experienced before. This was new, different. If I knocked again—if I tried to speak to him—and he refused me, the rejection would be unbearable.

Mrs. Bishop laid her fork across her now empty plate, which she pushed to the center of the small table in her room. She studied me quietly as I took the last bite of roast lamb.

“Have you seen him lately?” she asked, and the bluntness of her question had my hand freezing in midair, my fork hovering over my plate.

I blinked my initial surprise away and settled back in the stiff dining chair. “I assume you mean Connor?” She nodded, concern written plainly across her face. “No, I haven’t.”

She released a long, tired-sounding exhale and rolled her eyes to the ceiling before mumbling something I couldn’t hear. When she looked back at me, though, she smiled gently. “How are you faring, Sunshine?”

The question was simple enough, and yet I had no idea how to answer it. The dream had made a mess of my heart—and other parts of me. On top of that, there was the daunting and terrifying task of having to find a way to do the rebels’ bidding before my failure got one of the princes killed. Neither could be mentioned to her though, and I stumbled over one thought after another.

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