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My brow furrows, “I just fought an entire wyvern army, dark wielders, and raised wards, losing my mother in the process. Please, do tell me what could possibly be scarier than that.”
“You love me,” he whispers.
“You know I do.” I grab hold of his hand, and my stomach twists when he turns toward me but lowers his eyes. “What’s out there that I should be scared of, Xaden? What did he tell you? What did you see?” What could he know that has him this shaken?
Slowly, he drags his gaze up my body, and it feels like it takes years for him to just look at me.
When he finally does, I gasp, my hand tightening on his in reflex.
No. That single word is all I can think, feel, scream internally as I stare up at the man I’m hopelessly in love with.
“Me,” he whispers, a faint, almost indistinguishable red ring emanating from his gold-flecked onyx irises. “You should be scared of me.”
Gravity shifts and I feel as though my heart is sinking beneath the ledge we stand on. He is supposed to be my gravity – my mind reels with the implications of those red rings. With effort, I concentrate on my heart beating in my chest. It’s beating so fast that the world around me seems to slow as I count each beat:
One, What could have compelled one of the most powerful riders of our generation to draw more power? After we have been fighting against exactly this since Resson?
Two, What will this mean for his position with the Assembly, in Aretia, and in the Revolution? What if everyone finds out?
Three, What will this mean for us? Can our relationship survive one more thing? What the fuck do we do now?
Four, He looks devastated and terrified.
Five, He needs me. It’s as clear as day in my mind now. I remember Sgaeyl’s warning to be careful of my words and I recover my composure.
I look him straight in the eyes with my chin held high. We can deal with all of my concerns later, but right now he needs me and he needs to know I’m in this with him. “I’m not scared, Xaden. I know you would never hurt me. You told me we had to build a relationship that could withstand a storm. I see that storm brewing in your beautiful onyx eyes and I know we’ll make it through this together because you made sure we had that strong foundation.” I reach my free hand up to caress his cheek. His eyes flare in fear, but I hold him tight so he won’t withdraw from my touch. “I told you before that my love is not fickle and it’s still true. I love you more now than I did when I first told you that. I am right here with you as we navigate this together. That is a promise.” I squeeze his hand so he knows I mean it.
I feel, more than see, the sad smile that he sends my way. He’s already looking away again. I have so many questions for him, but I’m not sure he’s ready for that. He either senses my curiosity or just knows me well enough. “You were dying – you were intending to die. I couldn’t let that happen.” He says nothing more for several minutes while we stand side by side looking out at the river, still holding hands. “How are the others?” he finally asks.
“Second squad is intact.” I relay the report Rhiannan gave me what feels like a lifetime ago, “Rhiannon is fine, Ridoc is too. Imogen and Quinn were injured, but not badly, but Sawyer lost his leg to a wyvern. Cat and Maren got him to the healers before he bled out, I think.” I bite my lip wanting to check on Sawyer but knowing that our whole squad is already there and Xaden needs me here.
He slowly forces his gaze toward mine again. “How red are my eyes? Is it obvious?”
I shake my head. “If I hadn’t memorized every gold fleck in your eyes, I doubt I would notice. It’s just a thin red ring around your irises.”
“Then,” he draws a steadying breath, “let’s go check on Sawyer. I’ll stay in the shadows just in case.” He winces, but steps forward confidently, still holding my hand. We walk around Sgaeyl, who has joined the discussion between Tairn and Andarna, the three huddled together in what looks like a serious family discussion.
We walk through the quadrant, past dozens of wyvern bodies. We pass Melgren and Devera still arguing over the terms of our return. No one bothers us as we walk hand-in-hand to the healer’s quadrant. I’m sure the combination of the emotions on my face and Xaden walking with his head down are enough to give anyone pause and I’m grateful.
I open the door to enter the Healer’s Quadrant and we are immediately assaulted by a cacophony of noise. Rider black and infantry blue are everywhere, with a sprinkling of the light blue of the healers. As we step into the overflowing clinic, I quickly spot my friends grouped together against the far wall. I take stock of who is there and what state they are in. Imogen is resting her head on Garrick’s massive shoulder. His hand rests protectively at her side where I see a gash in her uniform and dried blood. They both look tired but otherwise okay. Bodhi and Quinn sit side-by-side quietly next to them, seemingly in one piece, though I notice Quinn’s busted cheek. Rhiannon and Ridoc flank Jessinia, as she nervously fidgets with her hands. All three look fully intact. I see Sloane wrapped in Aaric’s arms, her head buried in his chest. I can’t tell if she’s crying or hiding from the world, but I’m glad she has someone taking care of her, either way.
My mind flashes back to the ward chamber. Aaric holding me back as Sloane drains my mother’s life force. Suddenly it’s all too much. I break down, burying my head in Xaden’s chest, sobbing. He pulls me into him as he pulls his shadows up around us. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me across the room to be by our friends. He holds me close as he sits down and I ball up in his lap as he rests his back on the wall. His arms stay wrapped around me, sheltering me from the world. He still is my gravity, I realize. I feel his sorrow as I continue to sob and the tears that run through my hair could belong to either of us.
When my tears run dry and the sobbing stops, he wipes my eyes and kisses my forehead. He tells me to go to my friends. “I’ll be right here,” he whispers with a sad smile. He stays in the shadows as I step toward my friends.
Rhi immediately pulls me into a hug. Ridoc wraps his arms around us both. Then Imogen and Quinn join us. Sloane and Aaric stay put. My heart aches for the trauma Sloane has experienced today, but I am not in a place to comfort her now. Thankfully, Aaric seems to be providing exactly what she needs now.
Through the group hug, I see Garrick and Bodhi go sit by Xaden without a word. Just like the night I found Xaden on the parapet. They are good friends, knowing how to be close without saying a word. That’s exactly the friends that Xaden needs right now.
I sit with my friends for a while. We’re a motley crew of emotions. Rhi is so damn proud of me for managing to raise the wards. Imogen and Quinn are exhilarated from the fight and want to swap war stories. Ridoc wants to make jokes like he always does to break the tension. I do my best to join in, but after a few minutes everyone senses I’m not in the mood for their positive vibes. They attribute it to the loss of my mother as I accept their hugs and condolences.
Rhi catches me up while we wait. “They took Sawyer into surgery a while ago. We’ve been here with Jesinia since we came in to check on Sawyer. They are running ragged here with all the injuries, so we haven’t been able to get much information. We figured we would all wait here to find out how he is.”
Eventually, a healer comes out to tell us that Sawyer is out of surgery and all went well. We can see him in about an hour. We all sigh with relief.
Ridoc looks ready to burst, “I guess he’ll be the next member of the saddle rider’s club with you Vi!” He means it as a joke of course, but it hits a little too close to home.
He’s right, I realize. Sawyer is still a rider, but he’ll have a hard time staying on with only one leg. “It’s actually a good idea,” I say quietly. “I’ll ask Xaden if he can have another saddle made.”
I use that as an excuse to extract myself from my friends and sit back next to Xaden. Garrick goes back to Imogen and Bodhi moves next to Quinn again as soon as I’m back. “Can you have another saddle made for Sawyer?” I ask Xaden quietly.
“Bodhi will take care of it,” he tells me and I see Bodhi give a nod.
We sit quietly for a while. I take his hand, lacing my fingers through his. After a few minutes I gently reach through our bond.
“Xaden?”
“Violet?”
“Are you up for a conversation?”
“About what?” I can feel his tension.
“Anything. It’s just that we have an hour to kill and there are too many people around for us to get tangled up in each other like we usually would,” I give him a little smirk trying to find some semblance of normalcy, but he tenses so I continue without further comment, “anyway, it seems like a good opportunity to just talk – get to know each other better. I mean, we know each other deeply in ways no one else could, but we know very little about our pasts.”
I try to think of something to talk about. Anything about my past feels too raw, too close to my recent loss. But it’s his present that feels like the forbidden topic, so I forge ahead to ask some questions about his past. “It’s hard to know what’s a safe topic given our current moods but I’d be happy to hear anything about your past. What was it like growing up in Aretia? How did you spend your free time as a kid? Did you ever visit that giant library at Riorson House? Did you have servants? Did you learn to cook?”
I can feel his small smile through our bond. He begged me for six months to ask him anything and I’ve been resistant. Now in the span of a single minute I’ve thrown a half dozen questions at him, softball questions about him, exactly like he wanted me to ask all along. The irony isn’t lost on me.
“Okay,” he says slowly “I’ll start with the easy ones. We had staff who took care of all of our needs, just like we do now. No, I never learned to cook. Yes, I spent time in the library. I’m sure not as much time as you spent in the Archives, but it always felt like an adventure to go into the library and pick out new books for my shelves. All the books that are on the bookshelves in our bedroom were ones that I personally selected and brought up from the library. Growing up at Riorson House was fun. Garrick was there all the time and we got into a lot of trouble together. When we were little, we would drive all the adults crazy running around the house until they sent us outside with our energy. We explored so much of the land around the house together.” He pauses, having answered all my questions, then pivots. “You must have grown up climbing the trees around here since you know exactly where to find poison.”
I give him a small smile, grateful that he is choosing to continue the conversation. “Yes, I did. I knew exactly where to find the poisons in the woods here because I had discovered them as I explored the grounds for the past several years whenever it was free of riders.” I think of a topic about the future that might be safe territory. “Is there anywhere you would love to visit if it weren’t for the war?”
He answers without hesitation. “The Bay of Malek has always intrigued me. What about you?”
“I would love to visit Devarelli Island. It must be beautiful.” I sigh remembering the gorgeous dress that I destroyed when fighting the venin in Cordyn.
“That is where my mother is from.” He says softly.
“Really?” I’m surprised I didn’t know that already. I guess since she was already gone before the apostasy, she wasn’t mentioned in the scribes’ reports. “Did you grow up with a lot of silk in the house?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Yes. It’s also how Tecarus ended up with so much Devarelli silk. It was a great trading commodity.”
I can feel his mood start to darken, so I quickly change the subject. “Tell me about the butterfly garden.”
I feel a shift in his emotions immediately and, as he begins to speak, I realize this topic settles him, just like reciting facts about history has always settled me. “It was built inside so they can bring in all kinds of plants. Each species of butterfly thrives on a different type of plant, so to host a variety of butterflies they need to be able to grow plants that wouldn’t live there natively. It’s warm and colorful. Sometimes, when you sit still enough on one of the benches, a butterfly will land on you.”
His mood is softer now, so I push for more when he pauses.
He hesitates, then explains, “it was my happy place whenever I stayed there, so I spent a lot of time there and got to know the caretaker. He taught me a lot, but it’s really mundane.”
Then it hits me. This man, who so many people are scared of, is clearly in love with butterflies. And me. He loves me so fucking much that he risked everything to save me.
I rest my head on his shoulder as I say, “mind of a scribe, remember? I am fascinated by the things that others find mundane.”
He rests his head on top of mine as if in acknowledgement that this is what we both need. His voice is soft in my head as he tells me the specifics of several species of butterfly and the details of the plants they are attracted to. I am grateful for the distraction, grateful for the quiet comfort that he provides, and so grateful for his love.
I’m just drifting off to the quiet comfort of his voice in my head when the healer returns to tell us that we can see Sawyer. We see him only briefly; he needs lots of rest. But it’s enough for us to know that he lives.
By now I’m so tired that I can barely stand. I can feel Xaden’s energy vibrating next to me. Of course, his power was replenished when he... I can’t even finish the thought. I almost fall over before he picks me up and carries me to my room. I ask him to tell me more about butterflies and again his soft voice fills my head with comfort as his shadows wrap around me, shielding me from the mage lights we pass.
As we reach my bedroom door, I suddenly tense. “We need to get to my mother’s things before they burn it all.” I say through our bond, trying to convey my desperation through my exhaustion.
He pushes open the door as he tells me that I need sleep. “They are all too busy cleaning up the mess from the battle and you can’t even stand up straight. Sleep now and we’ll get to her things first thing in the morning.”
He lays me down gently in bed and pulls off my boots. He hesitates like he’s not sure he should stay. “This is our room now,” I tell him firmly, just like he told me at Riorson House. “You’re staying with me.” He promised never to read my intentions again, but I want him to see my intentions now, so I push them to him through our bond – an image of him laying next to me in my bed. I’m grateful to see him take his boots off instead of arguing. “And don’t you dare sneak away while I sleep.” I switch to speaking into his mind as I address the topic I don’t dare speak of out loud. “I know you think I should be scared of you. You probably think I’m safer without you around, but you are wrong. You are my gravity, remember? Nothing works without you by my side. And that’s exactly how we are going to get through this. I’m going to research and you’re going to fight and together we will find a solution.”
He lays down next to me and I am asleep almost immediately with my head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.