Page 130 of Fate and Flame
“I had to. And maybe you won’t understand it, but fuck, Fen. Every single time I let my mind rest, the only thing I see is you lying dead on the ground. Every time you hide in this room reading this book or that book, I’m alone, and it plays over and over.”
“I thought it was better. After the cetani.” His eyes finally lifted to mine, and I shook my head.
“But that’s the thing. As soon as it felt manageable, Autus attacked and just brought everything right back. I don’t know if it will ever get better. You died.” My voice broke. “You fucking died, and I had to listen to it. I cried into your chest and your heart didn’t beat.”
“I never left you. I never would.”
“Don’t you see? As long as that threat is out there, as long I know that bastard is plotting, I can’t let the fear go.”
“Ara, why do you think I sit in this room and hunt through these books. I feel exactly the same way. Exactly.”
“Then why aren’t we working together? Why don’t you ask for help?”
“Why didn’t you?” He walked over to me and grabbed my hands. “Tell me where you went.”
“I . . .” I searched the depth of those beautiful eyes, knowing what my words would do to him. “We went to the Wind Court.” His grip tightened on my hands. “We spirited, Wren kept us hidden. It was supposed to be a quick in and out job. He was supposed to be there, Fen. He was supposed to be asleep in his bed, I was going to kill him, and we were coming home before anyone knew we were gone.”
“But you didn’t,” he said. Not a question.
“No.” I dropped my head, but he lifted my chin with his finger.
“What happened?”
“He was gone,” I whispered. “His entire castle, every single fae, gone.”
“Shit.” He jerked, stepping away from me. “Shit,” he said again. “I thought we had time. I thought we had so much more time. Kings never rush anything.”
“So, you think he’s already on the move?” I sank into a chair.
“Well, he isn’t hiding. Temir can tell you that much. It’s not in his nature.”
“How long until he gets here?”
He took a lengthy breath and sat across from me. “I don’t know when he left. It takes time to move an entire army down the continent. A month, at least. Maybe more if he has a human army. But no one has reported spotting them yet.”
“Maybe he’s just left.”
He shook his head. “But why would he take his entire castle? I don’t get it. They would slow him down.”
I shrugged.
“We can’t keep fighting. I never want to spend another night away from you. I don’t think my liver can handle it.” A great pause lingered between us as his emotions swayed. “I would have let you go, Ara. I might have asked to come, but I wouldn’t have stopped you.”
“None of it matters anyway,” I said. “It didn’t work. And I’m sorry you got a stubborn, reckless asshole for a mate. I’m sorry this isn’t all happy and perfect.”
“I don’t want perfect, Ara. I just want you. I love the fire. I love how passionate you are. I love that I never have to be anything but myself with you. I will fight these small battles with you now so we can learn how to be perfect together.” He stood and stared me down until my eyes met his, lit with fire and passion and our soul. “There’s not a damn thing in this world or the next I wouldn’t go through to be with you.” He pulled me to him. Hugging me tight, he lay his head on mine and we stayed there, holding each other, until Inok walked in.
“Sorry. They’re ready.” He bowed, keeping the formal demeanor he wore like armor.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.” Though Fen’s face was neutral, a tinge of pride pricked me.
“Like it or not, you are king and no one else will treat you as such if those around you are given exception.”
“I don’t care if everyone bows to me,” he said and we walked out of the room.
As we entered the meeting room, shock hit me as I saw the Weaver sitting coiled beside a row of chairs, her snakeskin glossier than last I’d seen her. I was not as surprised as Kai though, who stood at the door watching her with his mouth gaping. Rhogan had to shove him out of the way just so he could squeeze his wings through the doorframe.
“Welcome home,” Fen said as we passed by.
