He’d traveled with some in a sack, and they rationed the food between the five of them. Each bite was like heaven, filling cells Heath hadn’t known were starving, but at least it made things easier. As much as Heath wanted to drink from his Foraltae, he was nervous about sharing that part of him.
She knew he was Unseelie and had to know what they did to survive, but knowing and seeing were two very different things. He didn’t want to make her fear him, and they could face joining as a Fated Pair should once he knew she was safe. For now, he let his armor fade to the white linen pants he always wore, and he only thought for a moment of adding a shirt.
Why? He hadn’t worn one yet, and if his Fate enjoyed seeing him half dressed, he’d oblige.
He found her sitting on the end of a feather-filled mattress covered in black sheets.
An image of what I imagined before.
Maybe he should have left his armor on. She’d see how much he wanted her soon enough. But the way she twisted her hands in her lap worried him.
“Ash?”
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
“What is it?”
“I must tell you something.”
The gravity of her voice made his heart sink. “Are you Joran?”
“What? No. That is not what it is.”
“Then I think you’ll be safe to tell me.”
But she didn’t speak, just kept wringing her hands.
With a sigh, he approached the bed and got on his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his. “Speak, female. You are my Foraltae, and nothing will change that. If there is something I must know, then fine.”
She blinked, delicate tears tracing down her face, and he thumbed them away. He resisted, just barely, the urge to put them in his mouth and taste her again.
“You will feel more guilt. But not telling you has become a struggle.”
Well, that could be … bad. But whatever it was, they’d face it. “Tell me.”
With a deep breath, she intertwined their fingers. “You once asked me my name, and I gave you Ash. It was only part right.”
Okay. “I think I can deal with a name change.”
“My name is Asherah Danaan, Princess of Seraph.”
Fuck.
He sat back on his haunches, his heart pounding. Danaan. She was of House Danaan. The same House as Silva. The royal house. He’d been sharing all his memories and had told her how he’d hurt Silva. She’d seen him go after and nearly kill someone of her line because of what he’d believed. Watched his anger and rage boil over until he’d put so many in danger.
She’d watched it fucking all.
Princess? She wasn’t just part of the House. “You’re her sister.”
Ash nodded, and it broke his heart. “We were close when we were young. Inseparable. Then our parents died. It broke something in her. It was like she had to run into responsibility, but she hid from it as well. She let advisors make so many decisions. I was powerless to stop her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
This was important. No, she wasn’t Joran, but she could have let him know who she really was. Let him face the shit he’d heaped on her family. For fuck’s sake, she was Silva’s sister. He’d almost killed his Foraltae’s sister.
“You were so angry and heartbroken over what you were learning. If I had told you who I was, it would have only made this worst. You would have been guilt-driven to save me from the Tower. I did not want that.”
She wasn’t wrong. After what he’d discovered, Heath had no doubt he’d have run into the Tower, even if it meant his death, to pay back what he’d done. But the idea of hurting his Foraltae like that …
