He could wait no longer—‘I love you.’
Her eyes fluttered shut. ‘Jude.’
He’d never tire of the sound of his name on her lips. Both hands cradled the back of his head as she buried her face in his neck. ‘I love you, too,’ she whispered against his skin. She moved to kiss the corner of his mouth. Once, twice. ‘Of course I do.’
His face ached with how wide he was smiling. Every beat of his heart was for her alone.
He never wanted to move, but eventually, the muted gurgle of his stomach caused them to pull back. Maeve skated her fingers across his jaw. Their noses touched. ‘Ready to get up?’ she asked.
‘Not yet.’
A look of deliberation marred her brow. ‘How do you feel?’
Jude eased back. He wanted to see her whole face for this conversation. It needed to happen, despite how little he wanted to dwell on it. The Abbey. The fire. Memories and saints and bright golden magic.Ezra.
‘I feel…’ he hesitated. Words came in a slow trickle. ‘Weightless. Like there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just me. You. And whatever we’d like to do next.’
The corner of her mouth flicked up, though her eyes were heavy. She looked away, towards the window. Clouds rushed high overhead, spots of blue emerging through the tumble of grey.
‘Ezra died,’ he murmured, watching her expression carefully. ‘I need to tell Elden.’
‘Ah.’ Her only tell was a brief tightening of her mouth. ‘How?’
‘Candlestick through the neck. It was too late to do anything by the time I reached him.’
‘Hm.’
Jude didn’t know what else to say. Almost desperately, he asked, ‘And you? How do you feel?’
She sighed. ‘The same, I think. More unmoored than anything else. The fire was necessary, and I’m glad for it, even if I wish you hadn’t been forced up on that altar. I’m glad we have our memories back, and the Abbey is no longer taking our magic. That we can do whatever we want,bewhoever we want, is a gift I won’t take for granted. It’s just…’ she grimaced.
‘You’re not used to living without a guidebook,’ he supplied.
‘Something like that. It’s not so much the religious side of it – it’s more the fallback. The idea that there’s someone else there watching over me. Listening when I pray.’
His heart gave an unsteady thump. He had become so accustomed to living without a safety net that inviting one back into his life was more frightening than continuing alone. Where Maeve saw a safety net, he saw a shackle.
‘Did I ever tell you the meaning behind my house’s name?’ he asked suddenly.
Maeve cut her gaze to his. ‘Ánhaga?’
‘It means a solitary being,’ he said. ‘A dwelling for one.’
Her brows knitted. ‘Why would anyone give a house that sort of name?’
‘I don’t know.’ Beneath the blanket, their fingers twined together. ‘It made me think, though. If it was built to be somewhere without community, without companionship… what happens when it becomes exactly that? Does the house lose its name? Its identity? Or does the meaning ofÁnhagaget rewritten into something new entirely?’
Maeve blinked. ‘Its roots remain the same, but the growth takes a new direction.’
Jude smiled. ‘Exactly. As with you and me, Maeve. Our foundation is the Abbey. The good and the bad. But that doesn’t mean our futures can’t grow into something new.’
58
Jude
‘Look who decided to grace us with their presence,’ Elden remarked with a sly smile as they made their way down the stairs. The smell of frying bacon greeted them, reminding Jude of one of the few meals Elden was wonderfully proficient in.
‘Eggs, too?’ Jude asked, stealing a strip of bacon. He leaned his back against the counter. ‘When did you head out this morning?’
