Page 55 of Crown of Iron
He holds my gaze and opens his mouth as if to say something but quickly closes it again. With a nod, he returns his attention to the meeting.
The energy at the table is lively as everyone speculates on what the Stigian queen could want. They toss around theories and ideas about how I’ll get it here once I get my hands on it. Their excitement fuels mine and I realize I was what they needed all along. I’m someone to assure them everything will be all right. They’re risking their lives for one man. It must feel like a gamble. One that could leave them imprisoned or worse. I'm their in, their scapegoat, their call to action.
The only reason I came here was so I could be a part of this rescue mission, to charge the gates of Stigian and bring my father home. My efforts won't be the heroic adventure I pictured them to be, but they’ll serve the greater purpose.
The words of my father resound in my head:honor isn't found in the fight, but in the sacrifice.
And this is a tremendous sacrifice.
“Let's reconvene in two days. Until then, think of every turn this mission can take. I want a foolproof plan in place. Everyone is dismissed,” Kyron says, keeping his gaze on the pages of the journal in front of him. I stand to follow everyone out of the room. “Not you, Raelle. Sit.”
With a sigh, I plop into my seat and stare at my fingernails.
The last officer exits, closing the door behind them, and Kyron rests his quill on the closed book. I shift under his watchful eye, eager for him to state the reason he kept me behind. He leans forward and I meet his gaze.
“We can find another way,” he says.
“Not without putting these officers at risk of losing their jobs or being imprisoned.”
The legs of his chair slide across the wooden floor, followed by his footsteps. He sits on the tabletop facing me, steadying himself with a booted foot on the ground. In the silence, our gifts mingle. Now that it's becoming second nature, I'm aware of how playful the two powers are together. Mine tugs at his and his brushes against mine. The merriment of their reunion eases me.
He hooks a finger under my chin and lifts it. “I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do.”
“I want to save my father. The price doesn't matter to me,” I whisper.
“I'll do whatever you need me to do, just say the word. But I…” He releases my face and rubs his lips together.
“But you what?”
“I want you to know you have a place here if this is where you want to be.”
I know I shouldn't do it. I should keep my distance, especially after the decision I've made, but I set my hand over his and run my thumb along his rough knuckles. “This was never intended to be permanent, Kyron.”
He flips his hand, pressing our palms together, and his shadows slink between our fingers. “I know, but the offer still stands if you ever feel the uncontrollable desire to be near my gift. I've heard it's irresistible.” He fights to hold back a smile and his midnight eyes sparkle with good humor.
As I watch his dark mist slide around our hands, my heart aches with a burn I fear will never subside. Just like Leif, Kyron deserves better than what I can offer him. He can be nothing more than a hidden lover, who warms my bed under the veil of night. I won't do that to him. He should be with someone who doesn't have to hide him away like a shameful secret.
I let my hand linger longer than I should, basking in the warmth of his touch. When I move to pull away, he holds me in place.
“Please, don't,” he says.
“We can't.”
“Just for a moment, let me pretend like you won't forget me when you leave.”
I push through the emotion collecting in my throat and the painful ache in my heart. “That would be impossible, Kyron LeFur.”
He must know it's true. How could I forget the man who brought my gift to life with his? At times, I feel like his power belongs to me. It’s at home with me and I'm comfortable with it. I would gladly keep it if I could and share mine with him in return. And the desire, the connection between us, it's consuming, strong, unforgettable.
“I’ll escort you back to the capital if it pleases, Your Grace,” he says with mock reverence.
“Kyron.”
“Don't worry, next week is the annual Generals’ Summit, so I'm due at the palace, anyway.”
“You have been to the capital? I've never seen you there. How did no one notice you?”
I try to picture Kyron roaming the streets and dining with Micah. It's hard for me to imagine. Word of a Stigian amongst us would spread like wildfire. The average Lucent citizen would run screaming for help. It wouldbe pure chaos.
