Page 106 of Crown of Wrath

Even now, something of it lingers. Our minds remain tangled at the edges, the separation between us still blurred. As I trace my fingers over his skin, I feel both the movement and the sensation of being touched. My body. His body. The distinction feels unimportant.

Cole’s breathing slows beneath me, deep and steady, but I stay awake. I trail my fingers down his arm again, lost in the impossible intimacy of feeling him from both sides. My lips curve in a secret smile.

“You’re mine,” I whisper. “All of you. Forever.”

“I am,” he murmurs. “But you’re mine too. Nothing and no one can take you from me now.”

Yes, I am. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.

Chapter 51

She believes she was the villain, but she is not. No one is completely self-less. No one devotes every bit of themselves to others. I certainly couldn’t. My selfishness was marrying Maeve. I knew what would happen, and if anyone was the villain, it was me.

~Cole Cyrus, A History of Flames

Cole

Maeve’s asleep beside me, and I struggle to keep from reaching out to touch her. Her breasts peek out from the blanket, and her breath comes out in soft snores that are the most adorable sound I’ve ever heard her make.

Echoes of our entwined bodies and minds flash through me. It’s more than I ever imagined it could be. Nothing could have prepared me for the way it had felt.

Scorch marks on the walls are permanent reminders of what happened here tonight. I can’t believe that nothing else was destroyed since I stopped worrying about controlling myself or my flames. Somehow, Maeve’s shadows had protected the world around us—something that should be impossible. Yet, here we are, sleeping on a bed that should be nothing but ash.

I give into the need to touch her, desperate to re-unite our bodies if only through the slightest bit of touch. My fingers trail over her skin, and goosebumps rise in their wake. I barely graze her skin, not wanting to wake her up. Just like before, I’m not sure where my finger ends and her skin begins. Our bodies are no longer our own any more than our souls are.

It’s better than any dream I could have had. Darian had asked me if this was what I’d wanted. He’d assumed that I was feeling pressured to fully bond Maeve, but he hadn’t understood.

Yesterday is all I’ve wanted since I felt her soul for the first time. That night before we walked through the gates of Draenyth, I realized that there’d never been anyone I wanted to share my life and soul with as much as Maeve.

My fingers move up her shoulder and down to the curve of her breasts. Her snores turn into soft moans, and those sounds remind me of just how wonderful it had felt to let all the separation between us disappear. The thought has me considering waking her up with a few soft kisses in the right place…

The oil lamp that glows in the corner makes shadows dance along the walls, and it only reminds me more of her. She may be the Queen of Earth, but she’ll always be the Princess of Shadows to me. No matter how strong and unyielding she is, no matter how perfectly suited she is to being the Queen of Earth, there will always be a part of me that remembers the stupid Wyrdling that needed to be taught to use her shadows.

I know I should go to sleep. I should rest because tomorrow everything will go back to madness. There’s a war to fight. There’s an end in sight, but this is where everything becomes both terrible and hard.

That’s why I can’t sleep. Something inside me screams that I may not have very much time left with Maeve. I may never become the King of Flames. Something just as real as the love I have for the woman sleeping beside me begs me to enjoy the time I have. Who knows how many more nights I’ll have with her? Tonight is perfect, and I want to relish every single second of the bond we have together.

My hand digs into the blanket, my fingers becoming talons and leaving tiny holes in the cloth. She is perfect. She is everything I ever wanted. She has the strength to stand against everything and everyone that is wrong about the world. At the same time, she loves more than anyone I’ve ever met. She is exactly what the world needs right now. I just wish I was more sure that I’d be there with her for the rest of her rule.

It’s worth it. Everything that’s happened. From the moment I was born until this moment right now, every bit of pain and struggle has been worth even a few more nights alone with her. Even if this was the last night I had with her, it’d be worth it.

She’s my everything.

Chapter 52

War is a strange thing for Immortals. It’s not the only time that we die, but it is the only time that death is expected. Humans age, and at a certain point, falling over and not getting up is a “when” rather than an “if”, but for Immortals, it’s different. We decide to risk our lives in war, and somehow, there’s rarely as much fear. Maybe a death that means something is all any of us are really looking for in life…

~Maeve Arden, The Future of Magic and Dragons

Maeve

It’s hard to think about anything when Cole is sitting across from me, but I have to. Tomorrow, we go to war, and yet I can’t stop thinking about the way our bodies and minds entwined last night.

Those blue eyes are far less icy than normal, and they remind me of a soft summer sky. Something has changed in Cole, too. Normally, he’d be as sharp as his sword right now. This is the beginning of the end. Thirty years after the Shattering, it will all be done. One way or another, win or lose, this is the end. Instead of sharp looks and hard eyes, he can’t stop smiling.

“We can’t do that,” my mother says. “The number of people will be too much. I won’t be able to manage them.”

I glance around at the table of people. This time, Da and Hazel aren’t sitting at the table. It’s a war council, and they just don’t fit. Though, there are some people I don’t know very well. A veteran human that’d been in Riverside when the Nothing swept through it. Selmiras, an Immortal from the House of Life who had been a commander in the city guard of Draenyth until a House of Steel High Fae had decided she would make an excellent gardener. So she’d been collared.

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