“It isn’t a lie.”
I gasped with disbelief. How did he maintain his faith in me—especially after everything I’d just told him? “Don’t you see?” My cries hardened with frustration. “I can never become anyone’s savior. I’m nothing but a curse! I brought death to my parents. I endangered the Romska. The sestras in the convent feared my unnatural ability, and they were right to. All I am is darkness!”
Anton shifted closer so I wouldn’t look away from him. “I want you to listen to me, and I want you to listen carefully. You are not a curse.” His brows lifted in earnestness. “You are a gift,” he said softly. “You are my gift. A savior to me.”
I raised my gaze to him. Tears clung to my lashes.
His brown eyes were a well of sympathy, stronger than any Auraseer’s. “Let me hold you, Sonya.”
I tensed, and my throat constricted. How long had I accused him of withholding himself when I was just as guilty of doing the same? But now that he knew the truth of me, could I really believe he still held me in regard? Could I allow him to try?
I managed a small nod.
That was all the permission he needed.
Within a moment, Anton’s warm arms surrounded me. His chin tucked over my head. At once my chest expanded and made room for the breadth of his compassion. He held my sorrow in his own, my suffering in his suffering. He held understanding.
“I’m sorry about your friend.” He smoothed back my hair. “I know she meant a great deal to you.” I sobbed into his chest. “I’m sorry you lost Yuliya, and your parents. I’m sorry for the tragedy at the convent, and that you never had a home, that you had to come here.”
He didn’t bolster me up with more talk of my ability—of seeing my duty through to the end and my commitment to the cause of freedom. He just let me be sad. And for that I felt overwhelming gratitude.
His hand steadily rubbed my back. “Shhh, shhh,” he murmured, and in his voice I didn’t hear an admonishment to be silent, but instead the rushing of mountain water, the ebb and flow of the ocean tide. He spoke comfort like a language I’d once learned as a child but had long since forgotten.
Gently scooting us across the floor, he guided me to the corner where his bed met the wall and opened his arms again. I crawled right back inside them. Pulling my hair over one shoulder, he coaxed me to turn around and lean against him. As he combed his fingers through my hair, he hummed a lullaby in a low and soothing voice. My sobs came softer as I listened to the haunting and peaceful melody. I rested my head on Anton’s shoulder and laced my fingers through his.
I cried for what seemed like hours, and when I realized I had stopped altogether, I felt ashamed and tried to muster up more tears. But it was useless. I was spent like a wrung rag. Despite the tragedy of the day, I didn’t wish for this moment between us to break. Anton was my solace, our auras knitted so intricately together I couldn’t tell where mine began and his ended.
I tilted my head up to see his face. The shadowy rings were back beneath his eyes. This was the second night I’d deprived him of much-needed sleep.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
He stopped humming, and a grin touched his lips. He kissed the top of my head. With his voice thick and drowsy, he replied, “You’re welcome.”
I shifted around to take in all of him. His hands moved to settle on my waist. The candles burned low, but I still noticed the smoothness of his chin. My hands cupped his face, and my thumbs skimmed his jawline. “Let me guess, you heard the beard law is no longer in effect. So, naturally, you shaved.”
His eyes were half-lidded as he smiled. “You’ve found me out.”
“You’re an unabashed rebel, Prince Anton.”
“Truer words were never spoken.”
His haggard drowsiness and humored expression made him appear all the more devastatingly handsome to me. His aura never felt so relaxed and open and welcoming. I gently kissed him.
I kissed him.
I drew back and searched his face for his reaction. He looked as stunned as I was. “Sonya.” His voice was a soft warning. I heard what he meant: I want this. I don’t want this.
His face still rested in my cupped hands. Heart pounding, I leaned closer. He smelled of pine and juniper and spring water. I breathed in all of him and savored every wondrous feeling in my aura. Very deliberately, very carefully, and with exceeding tenderness, I kissed him again.