Page 108 of Fear the Flames
“No, Elowen,” he shakes his head, “you don’t have anything to be sorry for.” If he’s not looking for an apology, then why was he waiting outside? It’s freezing out here, and the cold is only amplified by the wind that drifts off the icy canal. He turns away from me and grips the railing with both hands, bowing his head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just—” Cayden struggles to find the words he wants to say; it’s a feeling I know all too well. His unspoken words are suffocating him. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.
My heart clenches as I watch him struggle, “Cayden, it’s okay. We can go inside.”
“No. You said you want communication,” he declares, snapping his eyes open and turning back toward me. “Let me do this for you. I know I’m terrible at it, but I’m trying.”
Thankfulness falls over me like a blanket, wrapping me up, keeping me safe and warm. He’s trying for me. My emotions are bare on my face. I don’t hide how much I appreciate his effort because he’s showing himself to me, and it’s more intimate than when I felt his lips on mine.
The crease between his brows eases a bit when he looks into my eyes, seeing my decision to stay reflected within them. “I don’t talk about feelings; I never have or wanted to. They’ve never been important to me or something I focused on. I also never had anyone to talk about them with—you’re the only one. I know you can see my scar; I just don’t like knowing you can see it. It caught me off guard when you mentioned it earlier because you never spoke of it before. You mentioned it when we were sparring, but I expected that after I started making jabs at you. When I was younger, most people brought it up as soon as they saw me. I can still tell they want to ask about it, but my reputation ties their tongues. It’s never been like that with you. When you look at me, I feel like you seeme, not a scar or a story.”
“You’re more than a scar or a story…so much more,” I whisper, but he hears every word. “Nobody should ask you about it, it’s not fair to you. You don’t owe anyone an explanation, not even me. You don’t have to be ashamed of your scar, Cayden. Why do you care so much that I see it?”
“I don’t want you seeing the ugly parts of me because I care about your opinion, I value it. The scar is from a time that I failed, and I don’t want you to think I’ll fail you,” the words run from him as if he’s trying to force his syllables to cross the finish line before his mind can rein them back in.
The brunt of his honesty slams into me harder than a punch to the gut. Suddenly, I’m not only looking at this Cayden, my version. I’m also looking at the burdened boy that sat alone in a tavern when Saskia met him. The boy that hated the world and everything in it. I hope that boy would be proud of the man standing in front of me, trying for someone.
“Don’t you dare think that, not for one damn minute.” I force my walls to stay down. I owe him the same honesty he’s giving me. “The only reason I was able to fall asleep in the cave was because I felt safe with you. The thought of you failing me or letting harm come to me never crossed my mind.”
“You flinched, Elowen,” he stares at me with anguished filled eyes. “You must know I would never hurt you, nor let harm come to you. You flinched away from me and part of me died inside.”
“I know, Cayden. I didn’t flinch because ofyou.” I take a step closer to him but drop my eyes to the icy water we stand above. “Both of us are burdened by our pasts, my scars just aren’t as visible,” I whisper.
“Every part of you, every scar both visible and invisible, are utterly beautiful to me,” he murmurs.
“As are yours to me.” My eyes briefly drift to his scar before meeting his eyes again, “I don’t know how you got the scar, and you don’t have to tell me, but just know that even if I knew the reason behind it, I wouldn’t turn away from you. I think it makes you brave to face your past every day when you look in the mirror.”
He looks down at me with the same wide-eyed expression he did when I descended the stairs at the ball, but it feels more intimate this time. This look isn’t because of beauty; this look is because of something far deeper than that. I don’t know who wronged him in the past or who abandoned him, but I’m not going to be one of those people. Without letting myself think better of it, I brace my hands on his broad shoulders, stand on the tips of my toes, tilt my head forward, and press my lips into his scarred cheek. I feel a shiver travel up his spine, and he lets out a shuddering breath.
When I pull my head back, he’s looking at me with an emotion I can’t recognize, but it makes my insides melt. I leave my hands on his shoulders. He stares at me for a few more moments before reaching a hand up to take mine in his. He brings it over to his lips and places a tender kiss on my knuckles. He leaves our hands interlocked between us and slowly traces his thumb along my skin.
My palms tingle with anxiety, this may be the only time I have alone with him before we infiltrate the castle, and I don’t want to bring this up with anyone else present. “There’s something I need to talk about with you,” I whisper.
He nods, brows crinkling slightly, “Do you want to sit down?”
My instincts tell me to run away, sprint up the stairs and climb into bed and forgo this entire conversation. This must have been what he felt like when he gave me a glimpse into himself. Gods, it makes me want to dig deep and just hand him one of the shards of my broken self that I’ve patched together, but I’m afraid of piercing my own skin in the process. My eyes drop from his again as shame wraps around me. I shake my head, sinking into myself, “It’s fine. Maybe we should just go—”
“Don’t do that, Elowen.” He uses his free hand to tilt my chin back toward him. His eyes are still filled with openness and patience, but have steel and reassurance embedded into them. “Don’t retreat into your mind unless you’re taking me there with you.”
A broken laugh crackles in my chest; it’s a hollow sound filled with anything but humor. It’s forged in the realization that Cayden Veles is under my skin and in my mind, and I don’t want to get him out. “It’s about the bond.”
He moves his hand from my chin and rests it on the back of my neck. His fingers stroke the stress from my posture and help me get the words out. A shaky exhale drifts out of me, and my breath clouds in front of my face. I like to consider myself a fairly confident person, but that doesn’t mean I’m immune to self-doubt. I squeeze my eyes shut…try for him like he tried for you.
“I tried to go back for my dragons when Ailliard took me away from Imirath.” His fingers still on the back of my neck, and my eyes slip open to take in his shocked expression. Hequickly blinks it away when he notices my eyes are open again and resumes his motions, waiting for me to continue. “My body was weak and frail and couldn’t overpower Ailliard no matter how much I tried. It pained me to leave them, and I could feel the pain right here,” I point to a section of my chest close to my heart, which starts to beat out of control. Mybreathing is coming out in short, shallow breaths. My corset is working against me in the worst ways. “Whatif the bond broke that night? What if they hate me and don’t want me anymore? They might not even remember me. I can’t lead you into a trap. Iwon’tlead you into a trap.”
“Listen to me, Elowen,” he cuts off my rambling by grabbing my face in his rough, calloused hands, forcing me to stare into his reassuring eyes. “I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. I’ve known we would end up here from the moment we struck the deal because you have a fierceness like no other. You’re a wildfire I have no intention of smothering. There’s no trap, the five of us are the trap. Saskia said the bond can’t be broken, just dulled over time, and I trust her brain more than I trust my own sometimes. She doesn’t state a fact without doing the proper research. The dragons will remember you. I can’t imagine a reality where you could be unwanted. Believe in yourself the way I believe in you.”
His words squeeze my heart, and I push away from him. It’s too painful to look at him when I know we’re walking into certain danger tomorrow, and I’ve started to view him as a constant in my life. Everything is unpredictable the second we step through the threshold. So many things can go wrong, and I don’t know what my future looks like without him. His absence is something I don’t want to learn to live with.
“I won’t let them take me alive if something goes wrong tomorrow,” I confess.
One of his hands flashes to grip the wooden railing. “I will kill anyone that comes near you,” he says through gritted teeth.
“No, you do not understand me.” I lick my dry lips and brace myself for his reaction. “If something goes wrong tomorrow and you have the chance to run—do it. Run and don’t look back. If they realize who we are, you’ll have a better chance of getting away than I will. I won’t let them take mealive,” I emphasize my point by meeting his stare.
His shoulders stiffen to the point you could sharpen a blade on them. With lightning speed, he reaches to the side and pulls me in front of him, pinning me between his body and the railing, locking me in place with his arms. He presses himself into me and shakes in quiet rage.
“I’ll die with a knife in my hand if it comes down to it. Don’t die trying to be a hero,” I bite out.
“You forget me,” he huffs a bitter laugh. “I have no intention of dying or being a hero.”
