Page 54 of Songs of Retribution

Husband and wife.

Our own.

I wished I could hold on to that so tightly that the power and beauty of it might protect us somehow, might make us win. But I clutched him to me like it might be our last time anyway.

CHAPTERTWENTY

LENNOX

Shaanand I had slept with clothes on in case we needed to rise quickly. Our days of luxuriously sleeping in swaddled together in his colorful sheets and quilts had passed. We now lay in a tent over sodden ground surrounded by soldiers as the weight of everything that happened in the last day settled.

Somehow in the night I'd ended up with my sleeve rolled up and my hand tucked under Shaan's shirt, resting on his chest so an expanse of our skin touched. Regardless of the situation, I'd never felt more at home in my life. Shaan slid his thumb back and forth along my arm, and I didn't want to leave the cocoon of warmth we'd created, to break away from touching him, to step back into the icy reality waiting for us.

The world outside our bubble still existed though. The clatter of tin plates as soldiers started breakfast, the splash of boots into muddy ground, and the whisper of wood smoke reminded us of that. I pressed my face into the dip where Shaan’s neck met his shoulder, and he pulled his arm around me before releasing a sigh into my hair.

I'd indulge in one more moment of this pleasure, then I'd stand and pull the Prince back into place. The previous night I’d stayed up late, thinking over everything Sai had said to me. Part of me was still surprised he'd approached me at all. It had taken me several minutes to realize he was serious.

Shaan stretched, his legs tangling with mine. I hugged him close to me then pulled away as I sat up. His face was drawn, worry puckering his brow.

I smoothed a thumb over it. "What's wrong?"

He sighed and turned his face away. "I should have used my magic yesterday."

I dropped back beside him and pulled him tight so our bodies touched on every plane. "What would you have done?"

His jaw shifted, but he didn't answer.

"Maybe Sai had a point, after all," I said.

He turned in my arms, his nose brushing mine. "I'm not sure I understand this newfound alliance you and Sai have."

My lips found his jaw and I brushed them over it before placing a kiss as I chuckled. "I'm not sure I do either, to be honest."

"I'm glad for it. Even if it cost some Prasanna lives and others’ magic because I'm too much of a coward to use my powers."

"Hey." My voice deepened, and I freed a hand to lift his chin. "You are not a coward. You have a conscience—maybe a better one than me. Sai is right. If we win this war through you slaughtering thousands, how will you live with it? How would I?"

"I could have killed the soldiers manning those cannons."

"Others would have picked them up."

He sucked his lower lip between his teeth. "Maybe if I'd caused enough chaos, I could have stalled them. I could have—"

I stopped his words by pressing my mouth over his. He tensed then melted into me, his fingers sliding into my hair. This man was my heaven and yet he was becoming his own hell. "Shaan, they fired that magic before we knew what they were doing. Everything that happened would have occurred anyway, but you'd also have the guilt of blood on your hands." I lifted a hand in question, studied the elegant length of his brown fingers. He had artist's hands—so refined and careful in everything they did. "I'm not saying we won’t need your magic at some point, but you'll know when."

"What if I don't? I mean, I keep looking to you or Sai on what I should do with this magic." A breeze rippled the tent’s side and sunshine glowed along the canvas, bringing out the tawny color of Shaan's skin and the highlights in his dark beard.

"Worry less about us and more about what you believe is right. Kali gave you these powers because she knewyou, not Sai and not me, but you, Shaan, would appreciate how to wield them wisely."

"It feels like a curse."

I leaned up and balanced my weight on an elbow to peer down at Shaan, at that beautiful, passionate man I still couldn't believe loved me in return. Desperately I wished to give him the ability to see himself through my eyes. If I'd learned anything, though, it was that a being couldn't be forced to change their self-image.

I kissed his cheek. "I understand how that feels. For years—most of my life—I thought everything about me was a curse." I met the swirling concern in his eyes. "I don't believe that anymore."

He sighed, sat up, and leaned towards me. I pulled him closer and breathed in the bright lemon of the lingering oils he wore.

He pulled back and wiped his hands over his face. We didn't have time to rest or process. We had to see this fight out and pray to God we'd live past it to do this all again.

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