Page 63 of Crown of Iron
“What exactly is it you want to show me?” he asks.
I brush the vines to the side and run my hands along the wall. My fingertips find the cool metal of a familiar latch and I press down. With a click and a shove of my shoulder, the old wooden door opens, scraping across the ground. “You'll see,” I say, lifting my chin toward the dark tunnel.
He follows me inside, and I close the door behind us. The narrow river-rock-lined passage is long and set at a decline. Neither of us speaks as we hike further underground, mesmerized by the sound of rushing water and the wind howling through the tunnel. We reach another battered wooden door, and I release Kyron's flame. With an aggressive yank, the door opens, and we step out under the clear night sky.
“Almost there,” I say, hiking up the hem of my dress and following a crude dirt trail.
We reach the top of the hill, and Kyron sucks in a breath. A huge gazebo made of white stone covered in wisteria sits on what appears to be the edge of the world. He pauses to take it in, but I lace my fingers with his and lead him inside.
A flame burns brightly in a copper basin in the center of the open space. Stone benches sit along the outer edge, blending with the pillars holding the dome roof. The gazebo is magnificent in its simplicity, but it doesn't compare to what awaits beyond its borders.
Kyron and I walk to the far end, drawn forward by the calm rush of water. The gazebo stands guard over a bottomless chasm. Across the divide, tall trees line a waterfall that rushes over the edge in an endless stream. To the east, the sun continuously glows behind a snow-capped mountain, and to the west, lightning graces a perpetual night sky. The picture before us is nature in perfect harmony.
“What is this place?” Kyron asks, soaking in the most astonishing sight I'm sure he's ever seen.
“The Omnis. It's believed to be one of the most powerful places in the five kingdoms. All ten of the gifts bestowed upon the Pliris people reside here. It's sacred land with wards created by the Sibyls to protect it. Micah must invite you, and he reserves those invitations for very special occasions, like weddings or funerals. One road leads in and out of this place, but I found the secret passage about eight years ago. I come here whenever I need to get away. It's my version of the Aurora.”
Kyron smiles at my mention of his secret hideaway and places his hands on the stone railing. His gaze follows the fragments of light reflecting off the water in blue and purple glows. “I didn't know such a place existed. Then again, I've spent most of my life at Basecamp or on the battlefield.”
“You don't remember anything about living in Stigian?” I ask.
He shakes his head, and a forlorn expression takes residence on his face. “Have you ever had a memory you can't tell if it's real or something you dreamed?”
“Yes.”
“If my memory of Stigian is real, it's no better than a nightmare.”
I place my hand over his and rub my thumb against his knuckles. “It's all right if you don't want to tell me.”
His lips pull into a sad smile. “I've never told anyone, but I want to tell you.”
He focuses straight ahead while strands of his hair flutter around his face. The muscle in his jaw ticks and his lips rest in a slight pout. I've witnessed his physical vulnerability, been the cause of it even, but the raw emotion on his handsome face is beautifully devastating to behold. It takes every ounce of my willpower to remain at his side and not pull him into my arms.
“It's a recurring nightmare that always starts the same,” he finally says. “I'm no older than I was when the army found me. Kneeling before me is a man with my face. I hold a stone that reminds me of fire, and I press it to the man's chest. He screams.” Kyron squeezes his eyes shut and bites his bottom lip. “It's pure agony for him, and utter delight for me. He cries over and over again, saying he loves me. No matter what, he loves me. Mixed with his sobs is a soothing voice saying,don't stop, take it all, drain him.The man collapses, and his forehead thumps against the shiny black floor before blood pools around his head. Shrill laughter vibrates through every bone in my body as I stare at the dead man. That's when I realize what I've done and run.” He massages his temple like he is trying to banish the picture from his memory.
I place my hand on the back of his shoulder and rub small circles. “Even if it is real, you were just a little boy, Kyron. You didn't understand what you were doing.”
He releases a puff of air and turns to me. “The guilt, my hate for the Stigians, my disgust with myself, I've only come close to feeling pain likethat one other time.”
The grief on his face is undeniable and I don't want to make it worse, but I can't stop myself from asking. “When was the other time?”
With trembling fingers, he intertwines our hands, and I savor his rough and warm touch. Holding tight, he says, “The day on the training field when you gripped the wooden blade of my sword and fought against me. Just the thought of taking your life tore me to shreds. I walked away and vomited the moment I was alone.”
A single tear slides down his cheek, and I run my knuckles across the trail. Kyron leans into my touch, brushing his open lips over my fingers and heating them with his breath.
“Kyron,” I gasp as a shiver courses down my spine, causing me to clench my thighs together.
He presses my palm to his chest, holding it in place. His other hand slides over my neck, tangling his fingers in my hair. “I understand where I stand in the grand scheme of things, and I'm not asking for more than you can or want to give, Raelle.”
His words strike deep in my soul. Is this infatuation I feel? It is definitely lust. But is it more? I'm not sure, but I'm open to whatever it is. And I know he deserves more than just the scraps of what I can give.
“I wish I could give it all to you,” I say, and I mean it with every fiber of my being. I wish I could throw my all into this and see what we become.
He closes his eyes and deeply inhales, his forehead pressing to mine. “That's all I need to know.” He caresses my lips with his. “I'm so fucking damaged, Raelle, but you can have every single broken piece. I pray it—I—can be enough.”
Yes, he isn't perfect. He carries flaws on his skin and his soul bears the marks of his past, but his heart… I'm a greedy woman for wanting to carve my place in his perfect heart.
I grip the front of his shirt and rise to the tips of my toes, pressing my mouth to his. He pulls me in closer. The firm hills and smooth slopes of his body complement the soft curves of mine like we were molded to fit the other. I comb my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and his tongue traces the seam of my lips. Answering his silent request, I open to him and bask in the taste of cinnamon.
