Crossing my arm beneath my curls, I stared up at the trees and told him about how I used to love fashion. I explained how different materials could make beautiful designs. Once again, I admitted things to him that I’d never told anyone.
I told him how I’d made Mother’s gossamer silk dress.
How I’d sneak into the kitchen and help curate different enchanted wines.
Our conversation changed. I told him how the half warriors were my first friends. I told him how my mother made me hurt them. How they hated me for it. I told him about the role they played in mother carving my back.
I admitted that a small part of me thought I deserved the punishment because of how I’d treated them.
When I said that, Malum recoiled like he’d been hit. “No,” he rasped harshly. “They were grown men, and you were a child. They knew about your mother’s cruelty, and yet they blamed you.”
I sighed. “It’s not that simple. They thought I betrayed them.”
He reached over and tangled our fingers together. “Listen to me, Aran.” His expression was dire. “It’s the most obvious thing in the entire world that you are softhearted and nothing like your mother.”
I scoffed.
He shook my hand.
“I’m being dead serious,” he said. “They blamed you because they wanted someone to hate. Someone they could bully. They couldn’t do that with your mother.”
I gnawed on my lower lip as I considered his words.
“Can we not talk about it anymore,” I whispered.
“Of course,” he said.
“Let’s just enjoy the nature.” I breathed deeply and reveled in the warm scents of summer.
He squeezed my hand three times.
An hour later, I shifted self-consciously because he was staring at me again.
“What?” I asked.
He propped his head on his hand. “Do you know how unique you are?” He wet his lower lip. “Aran.”
I pursed my lips and tried to hide my smile at how liberally he was using my name.
“You’re just realizing how special I am, Corvus?” His name felt weirdly intimate on my lips.
He leaned his head over and whispered against the sensitive shell of my ear, “Say it again.”
“Mitch?” I played dumb.
He lunged and tickled my sides. I gasped and shrieked as I kicked against him with futility.
“Say it again,” he demanded.
“No.” Gasp. “You have to.” Gasp. “Earn it.”
He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted. “Come on, Aran.” He stopped tickling me.
“I’m not falling for it.” I flopped over and lay on my stomach, eyes closing with exhaustion.
He gave me a gentle kiss on my forehead.
When I leaned in for more, he pulled back with a playful smile. “With time, darling,” he drawled.
I rolled my eyes.
This was the same man who’d pulled his pants down and fucked everyone he could at Elite Academy. The same man who wrapped his hand around my neck and pinned me to my bunk bed. For sun god’s sake, he’d almost taken me in a public dressing room.
Apparently fighting in war had transformed him from a pervert to a prude. Distressing.
I wanted to demand that he ravage me. However, I didn’t want to ruin the peaceful vibes that had settled around us.
A long moment passed, then a heavy weight settled across my back.
He’d repositioned himself to sleep and had tossed his arm over me. “So we’re really just going to lie here and sleep all day?” he asked skeptically. “Even after we just slept all night?”
“Yep,” I smiled. “It’s called relaxing.”
He pressed his side against mine, body heat warming me through our clothes. “Sounds good, Aran.”
Birds chirped above us, and the leaves rustled.
The air was pleasantly warm.
Everything was golden.
I smirked into the pastel blanket. “Keep it up and I just might forgive you in the next decade, Corvus.”
He stopped breathing. Every muscle in his body tensed and he asked slowly, “Do you mean it?”
“Yeah,” I said. “You just have to shower me with gifts and prove you’re not an ass for the next decade.”
“Done.” He tickled my side.
“You’re ridiculous,” I squealed as I kicked at him.
He tipped his head back and laugh, “And you’re mine, Aran.”
The warm feeling inside my heart expanded, and it felt like I was flying.
“That means you’re also mine, Corvus.” I rolled his proper name on my tongue.
He buried his face in the blanket and groaned. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane. I can’t keep my hands off you.”
He said it like it was a problem.
“Then, don’t,” I said. “Ravage me.”
A soft snore echoed, and I flopped back with a sigh.
He was already asleep.
He hadn’t heard me.
Chapter 65
Aran
HORSES
Oscitancy (noun): drowsiness.
I woke up to find drool on my face and Corvus sprawled atop me like I was a bed. If I’d been a smaller woman, I would have been crushed by his excessive weight.
Good thing I was big-boned.
I tried to push him off, but he just grumbled in his sleep and reached for me. He didn’t wake up. After ten minutes of kicking and pushing, he finally rolled off.
I sat up and studied him.
Sunlight filtered through the rich green leaves, and his skin shone like polished bronze.
He seemed younger.
Softer.
Gentler.
He didn’t seem like the same man that had stalked down dark corridors, setting people alight as he expertly wielded enchanted swords.
His features abruptly scrunched up, and he whimpered. He flinched and rolled on the blanket like he was under attack.
His arms flailed. He yelled out like he’d been stabbed.
I knelt on top of him.
Using all my strength, I grappled with his flailing limbs and crossed his arms over his chest. Then I pushed down.
“You’re okay,” I said as I exerted pressure. “The war is over.”
He panted harshly, sleepily fighting against my hold.
Finally, he breathed out—a long shuddering sigh.
He fell still.
I traced my fingers over his brow and whispered soft words as he resumed snoring peacefully.
Feeling exhausted, I climbed off him.
I fingered the ribbons in my curls. I’d found them in a craft drawer last night.
This morning, as I’d hyperventilated in front of the mirror, I’d placed dozens of them in my hair. Just because I could.
A rebellion against myself.
I was no longer the girl who liked pretty things, but I’d find her.
With my toes in the warm grass, I tipped my face towards the sunshine and stretched.
In this foreign realm, I was just a woman who could fly.
In a field.
With no plans.
This lifestyle was new for all of us. It would take time, but we’d heal.
Together.
Pipe hanging lazily from my lips, I turned and sprinted toward the back of the estate. I ran just because I could. No other reason.
My joints were still stiff, and my muscles were achy.
I didn’t care.
I ran to the stables and chose a pretty white horse. We trotted aimlessly around the estate.
A few minutes later, I crossed paths with the twins, who were also riding horses across the countryside. I blinked, unable to process the sight of them casually trotting like aristocrats.
We were living a dream within a dream.
Their heads were tilted together, and they were whispering to each other with forlorn expressions. Their features were harder, less boyish than they had been before the war.