Page 67 of This Midsummer Heart
Her expression softens, regarding me with that love that first greeted me when I entered the room—that expression I remember from our good days together, only it is so much deeper now. We have walked through the fires of our trials and our own bitterness and flaws. And now here we stand. Born anew. My heart flutters like I’m just a boy again, hoping to be loved for the first time.
“There are a few things left,” Titaine says, her voice soft and inviting.
I lift a brow. “Such as?”
“Kiss me.”
I cross the distance between us in two strides, taking her face in my hands. My fingers curl beneath her chin, lifting it, just as her hand twines into the fabric of my shirt, my mail clinking softly behind her nails.
Slowly, committing every moment of this to memory, I lean down and press my lips to hers.
It isn’t a soft, gentle kiss of new love. But it is a claiming kiss—an acknowledging one.
She is mine.
I am hers.
And nothing else—no titles, no words, no betrayals or heartbreaks or joys of the past—matters one wit. There is only now.
When at last I come up for air, I understand this warmth in my chest is not just of love renewed.
It is the happiness of knowing that my years of torture have ended, and I am finally back where I belong. Forgiven, and at the side of the woman I love.
“Say it,” I whisper to Titaine, still lingering close to her mouth.
She pants slightly, still catching her breath. “I love you. I should’ve said it before. I should’ve done it before. I was so foolish and afraid—”
I catch her lips in a passionate kiss once again, withdrawing more quickly this time.
“Are you still afraid?”
“No,” she says, then flinches. “Maybe a little.”
“It’s alright.” I stroke her hair, then move my hand to cup her cheek as I sit beside her on the bed. “I’ll do a much better job of protecting your heart this time.”
“You’d better.” She twists her hand deeper into my shirt, drawing me nearer. “I’m counting on you.”
The vulnerability in her voice almost breaks me. “Titaine, are you—”
She shakes her head. “My magic is gone.”
“Of course it’s not gone.” I pull her close, threading my hand behind her wing until it can cradle the back of her head. “Don’t you remember? You saved us on the Bridge of Miracles. You gave me everything you had.” A soft laugh escapes between my lips. “The least I can do is return the favor. Until your magic returns, you have mine at your disposal. I am your servant. You are my queen.”
“Queen Titaine.” She breaths a laugh. “I always found the sound of that strange.”
“Get used to it, my dear. It’s who you are.”And I will do my best to grow used to being a proper king, so I don’t let you down, or any of those dark elves waiting for me downstairs.It’s not a mistake I can let myself make twice.
I loosen my arms around her back and wings, letting her leave this embrace. But she doesn’t. She stays where she is, folded into my chest, and it is the best feeling in the world.
My Titaine.
And despite all my flaws, despite all our bumbling and the tragic rubble we made of our love the first time, she really is mine again. I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“Nowall that’s left is to make amends,“ I say, speaking into her silken hair.
“Actually, there’s still one other thing.”
“Oh?”
