Page 108 of The Dragon Queen

“But he did.”

There was no heat, no hint of accusation in his voice. Brom merely leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead before pulling free and walking off into the darkness. That was when the tears finally began to roll down my cheeks, when I lost sight of him completely.

Chapter 52

Could anything hurt more than watching someone you loved walk away from you?

My vision was blurred by tears, but my eye sockets ached as I strove to watch every step Brom took towards the trees. His dark hair, the black of his leather uniform, blended with the shadows of the nearby forest, the gloom swallowing him up until he was gone.

And I needed to let him go.

My brain told me that clearly, but my heart? It was ever a stupid organ, tugged to and fro by each one of my lovers, but never more than Brom right now. I didn’t follow his advice and return to my rightful place beside my king. If the archbishop himself stood before me, a golden tiara in his hands, ready to crown me queen, I’d have thrown it into the dirt and pushed past him, just like I did now. My feet skimmed across the earth as I ran towards the forest.

“Brom!”

That was the desperate hiss of a woman trying to hide the fact that she loved a man she shouldn’t, and that wouldn’t do.

“Brom!”

My voice rang out through the trees and beyond, announcing to all what I was doing. I didn’t care. Let them hear me, discover whatwe were to each other. Let the truth come out, my heart beat furiously. My brain had thoughts about that, but right now I pushed them aside like I did the underbrush as I ran forward.

Birds were woken from their sleep by my blundering steps, forced to take flight from their perches, but they weren’t my focus. There. Just the sound of a twig snapping had me spinning around in time to catch sight of Brom striding deeper into the forest. I quivered like a hound on the hunt, then went running after him.

Dodging between trees, jumping over fallen logs, it felt like he would always be out of my reach. Those same long, strong legs I sat between when in Obsidian’s saddle took him further and further away from me.

But I couldn’t let him succeed.

I broke into a run, my breath too noisy in my ears as I sprinted forward, until the point I finally stumbled upon him.

“Brom…”

He whirled around, face like thunder as he glared at me.

“You shouldn’t be here, Pippin. Go back to the fire, to Draven?—”

“No.” I shook my head, moving slowly now, like he was an easily startled horse, not my love. “No, I won’t.”

“You must.” I watched him smooth away that frown with some effort as he put away the man to become the commander. His hands were gentle as they came to rest on my arms, his thumbs brushing against my bicep just once. It was his voice that broke me, rich, deep, and calm now. “I know…” That little break in his speech, it gave me hope, but he forged on, completely under control. “I admit a selfish part of me is gratified that this hurts you as much as it does me, but you must see.” I pressed my face to his chest when he drew me close, the cool slick texture of his leather armour not what I needed right now. “This is for the best.”

“How can you say that?” I jerked my head away, staring into his eyes. “How can anything that’s ‘for the best’ hurt so damn much?”

“You know, Pippin.” He stroked my hair in reassuring sweeps. “Who knows the depths of pain better than you? Forced out of your own estate, treated like an animal by the family that was supposed tocare for you. Nothing they did was fair. Life’s not like that, as well you know.”

“But what if it was?” Draven was still here, standing between us, because I was possessed by his spirit, daring to dream of a future that would never come. “What would happen if it could be?”

“It isn’t?—”

“What if it was? How would it be, Brom?” He sucked in a breath and I heard the rattle there, watched him shake his head. My hands clawed at his chest, as if I could tear his refusal to even consider that possibility out of him. “Brom?”

This was the last time I would ask. I’d shamed myself enough chasing after him, and perhaps he saw that. His gaze softened, that molten warmth there warming me far more effectively than a fire’s flames.

“Gods…” He looked out at the trees as if they would provide inspiration, though not for long. I wondered then how no one had guessed what was between us, because his eyes found mine just as mine did his, as if we couldn’t get enough of the other. “A quiet life. Would that be too boring after all this?”

“It sounds like heaven,” I replied earnestly. “A bed to sleep in. A fire to warm my hands on and a pantry full of simple food. If I never eat foie gras again, it won’t be too soon.”

That was the first genuine smile I’d seen on him all afternoon, and I bathed in the glow it inspired.

“Disgusting stuff,” he agreed. “I am no great cook, but I do make a decent lamb stew.”

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