“He wants Caelestis to turn you over to Draemor, and in return promises to remove their threat of declaring another war.”
“What?” I blurted out. My knees threatened to collapse beneath me as my entire body weakened with fear. I couldn't go to Draemor. I’d heard horror stories that I certainly didn’t want to experience on my own.
Sebastian lifted a finger to his lips, his eyes scurrying back and forth. “Shh.”
“I’m being used as abargaining tactic?” Though I already had no control over my life, something told me that it would be so much worse if King Beaumont had me under his reign. I promised myself that I wouldn't lose my composure in front of Sebastian again, but I couldn't help but panic.
“Shit.”
I heard Sebastian curse. Clearly realizing that I was about to lose it, he grabbed my hand and practically dragged me along the rest of the pathway and to the side of one of the towers. I sank down against the stone, holding my knees to my chest and tucking my head between them.
If King Hawthorne handed me over, I'd never see Delani or my mother again. They would have no idea what happened to me. He would probably just tell them I was dead—that I had an accident in wielding class.
My eyes began to burn. I tried everything in me to keep my cheeks dry, but the tears spilled over them.
The problem was that King Hawthorneshouldgive me up. It was the smartest thing to do for the kingdom. Sacrificing me would grant all other Caelestians safety.
“Maeve? Talk to me.”
I tried with everything inside of me to hold myselftogether, but my body shuddered when the power of my fear became too strong.
“Fuck,” I swore, frustrated with myself for being unable to control this feeling. I had been doing well, using writing to help me cope throughout this whole transition. I’d been able to stop the torment of panic before it consumed me. I’d been able to work through moments like this and come out stronger on the other end. I had been pretty damn resilient—until now.
I didn't lift my head to look at Sebastian as he slumped to the ground next to me. He put one of his arms over my shoulders, pulling me close to him. “I told you that you don't need to worry, and I meant it.”
The gesture was comforting, and pretty unexpected from a man who seemingly never showed this type of emotion. The strength of his biceps holding me sent chills throughout my core, and although I would have much rather focused on the feel of his body against mine, I couldn't right now.
Just a few months ago—hell, even a few weeks ago—I would have slapped his hands away if he laid a finger on me. We’d been so on and off that I was almost surprised at myself for accepting the contact now. I wondered what he truly thought of me—the girl who had given him so much trouble since she crashed into his life. The girl who was cowering against his father’s castle.
“What are you thinking?” he spoke softly.
I heard his words, but was still as motionless as the statue of Blythe in the courtyard.
“Look at me.”
I didn't want to. Didn't want the man I’d developed feelings for to see me like this.
Mortified, I shook my head between my knees. “Leave,” I whispered, doubting he ever lost control of himself in this way. He must have thought that I was a pitiful excuse ofCaelestis’ greatest asset. And he would be right in thinking that—I was pathetic.
“Please look at me,” he pleaded.
I didn't.
“Please leave,” I begged.
He didn't.
I shuddered when a drop of rain fell on my head. Or maybe it was snow. It was still fall, but with the temperatures lately it wouldn't have surprised me. Whatever it was tumbled from the sky, dampening my hair and cloak. I tried to ignore it, but my body began to shiver uncontrollably. Shouldn't the tower have prevented the weather from hitting me?
I looked up from the comfort of darkness to see the snow Sebastian created as it fell over us. With my emergence from my knees, the snow vanished.
I turned my eyes to him, despite the puffiness of them. “That was mean,” I said in a hush.
He grinned apologetically, then rotated his torso so that he faced me more directly. His arm slid off of my shoulders, drifting beneath my cloak and landing on my forearm. “Breathe,” he said, taking a deep breath of his own in an example.
I sucked in a shuddered inhale.
“What are you thinking?” He stared at me, trying to decipher my thoughts from the look on my face.
