Beautiful, supportive Ilyas.
What would he think if he knew what I suggested we do to these people?
My stomach rolled at the thought, and I paused my packing.
Ilyas took that opportunity to fold my shaking, sweating hands in his own large, warm ones. He gently pulled me to my feet before gathering me into his chest, folding his body around my own. I shook with sobs as he held me.
He was too good for me.
“Talk to me, my Mage. Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me how I can help,” he whispered into my hair as he gently stroked my back. My fingers clutched the corded muscles of his spine tighter as I desperately tried to pull him into me. I needed his innate strength, his love and devotion.
“You can’t.” My voice cracked on a broken whisper as I sobbed into his chest.
“Let me try?” he cajoled, and I sniffed, pulling away from his embrace as I wiped my swollen eyes. His gaze only held concern and love. “You’ve been hiding something these past few weeks, Lex. Let me help.Please.”
It was the plea that broke me. I sat heavily on our bed, head in my hands, as I poured out every secret I’d held since walking into the General’s room that day weeks ago. Ilyas sat at my feet, hands on my calves and face pressed to my knees, never moving more than to comfort me as I admitted my sins.
He held me as I cried, stroked my hair and arms as I shook with fear and disgust. But he never once admonished me, never once told me I was wrong.
“That’s a lot to hold onto,” he admitted once I was finally done with my story.
I laughed weakly. “Yeah, it is.”
“I understand why you did it,” he said softly as he pulled my body flush with his on the bed. We’d lain down at some point, taking comfort in each other’s presence and bodies.
“You do?”
Ilyas huffed a laugh, his breath feathering into my hair. “Yeah, Lex. I do. You’re the most selfless person I’ve ever met. Even after everything that has been done to you, the shit you’ve experienced, your heart is pure gold. You are literally sacrificing your soul, the inner pieces that make youyou, and you kept it from me to ease my own burden?”
I felt my body tremble again, warmth and coldness simultaneously rushing through me at his admission.
I’m not selfless. Not by a long shot. If I were, I would’ve refused Lord d’Refan’s offer.
“Even if you had told Lord d’Refan ‘no’ and let yourself burn out, he would’ve found a way to make this . . . conquest happen,” Ilyas consoled, seemingly reading my thoughts.
I hummed as we lapsed into companionable silence, Ilyas stroking my hair and back continuously, until a light knock sounded on our door.
“Come in,” I called, not bothering to remove myself from the bed or Ilyas’ comforting embrace. The door opened a moment later, and the General filled the space. His face was drawn and taught, the dark circles under his eyes the most prominent I’d ever seen. His normally neat hair was wild and mussed, as if he’d run his hands through it constantly.
If my soul was fractured, it wasn’t a stretch to think that his was perhaps ruptured beyond repair.
“She’s ready for you,” he grunted, his eyes focused on Ilyas and me as we lay entwined together. Something akin to longingflashed across his face before he schooled his expression again. “I suggest not making her wait. Everyone is already . . . rushed and on edge.”
It didn’t take a genius to understand he really meant thatLord d’Refanwas on edge. For mine and my Bonded’s sake, I didn’t wish to provoke the unhinged man any further. I gently pried myself from Ilyas’ grasp, softly pressing a kiss to his cheek and forehead before climbing off the bed.
I quickly grabbed my ruck as Ilyas moved to do the same. The General made a small noise in the back of his throat, and I whipped my head to him, fire steeling my spine.
“MyTrueBonded will be in attendance as well. He is mine and I am his. It is a nonnegotiable,” I bit out. General d’Alvey looked mildly surprised before a look of calm acceptance settled across his features.
“Good. I expected nothing less,” he admitted, clapping me on the shoulder once before the three of us strode from my room.
The Bonding roomremained unchanged from when Ilyas and I completed the ritual nearly a year ago. A large bed—with what appeared to be the same linens—and a singular wooden chair adorned the space. I took the same place in bed, Ilyas standing steadfastly next to my shoulder with his arms crossed and a worried frown on his beautiful face, as the Pain Vessel moved under the covers to my right.
She was quiet, but moved with a confident grace that I couldn’t decide if I liked or abhorred. She seemed to constantly be smirking, her eyes lit with a deep-seated intelligence that I could tell unnerved Ilyas. Not that either of uswere unintelligent, but we definitely didn’t have opportunities growing up poor in pleasure houses in Vespera.
It was clear, though, that this woman was raised in an aristocratic family. She dressed well, spoke eloquently, and moved with the grace of a cat.
She was captivating and completely unnerving.
