“That you understand how I feel about you,” he said, lowering his voice. “I’m not accepting your proposal because I want to Bond with someone. If that was the case, I’d pick Ivry. I don’t have any feelings for her, which is the same way that she feels for me. We’d be entering into a partnership as equals, which is what should be done. But I don’t want to be your equal, nor do I particularly want to be your Warrior.”
Ilain’s expression pinched, confused.
Ethenn swallowed down the fire in his throat, sure his face was nearly red with the fury surging through his veins. “I want to be your husband,” he said. “I want to protect you and make you stronger. I want to be to you what Deckard is to Evylin and what she is to him. I don’t want to be the one you go to for a joke or light conversation. I want to be the one you go to because I belong to you. I want to take care of you and love you, to be by your side for the rest of our bloody, eternal lives. And if you don’t want me that way, that’s fine. I’m not asking you to reciprocate. But you have to know that’s what I want because if we’re going todo this, then by Allore’s might, I’m going to love you, Ilain, and you’d better be damn sure you’re ready for that.”
Mouth agape and flaming eyes locked with his, Ilain didn’t say a word for a long time. She just stared at him as his blood boiled through his body, keeping him from feeling embarrassed. Then a little wrinkle formed on her nose as she smiled. “Our lives aren’t eternal,” she said.
“Semantics,” he returned.
“You love me?” she asked.
He didn’t bother to hesitate. “Yes.”
“You don’t know me,” she whispered.
“No,” he agreed.
She pressed her lips together, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. But a small laugh escaped her. “Well,” she said, smiling more brightly than ever. “That’s good to know. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Ethenn said, then the embarrassment started setting in. Had he just bared his soul to her? What an idiotic thing to do.
“So we’re in agreement?” Ilain asked. “We’re going to marry and Bond.”
The heat nipped at his scalp. “Yes,” he concurred slowly, the truth not quite settling in.
Ilain pursed her lips, then let out a small hum. “In that case,” she said weakly, “there are a few people we need to talk to.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
A thin sliver of morning light peered through the curtains to wake Deckard. The white-yellow beam drew a line across the foot of their bed and up to his face. He squinted, shifting away from its assault, moving deeper into the comfort of the blankets and Evylin’s arms.
With a sleepy smile, Deckard angled to look down at her, catching only the smallest glimpse of her in the darkness. Having doused the lamps the night before, the thin beam of sunshine was the only source of light, casting the rest of the room in shadow. He accepted the gloom, settling into the sluggish atmosphere.
Rarely did Deckard allow himself to linger in sleep. In his youth, he’d set a routine of early mornings and devoted improvement. A habit he continued to the present. But after last night....
Warmth radiated into Deckard’s arm, side, legs, and chest from Evylin’s body, which was tangled with his. Almost from the start of their marriage, they’d begun to sleep close to one another. What had begun as a means to keep Evylin warm in the cold winter months of travel had grown into a strange habit neither of them could break. In all that time, they’d carefullywatched just how intimately they allowed themselves to touch. Now, things had changed.
Though it was only the third night together after the consummation of their marriage, they’d already found a new level of comfort with one another. Evylin practically lay atop him while he held her close, not a scrap of clothing between them—a suggestion of Evylin’s to which Deckard had wholeheartedly agreed. His hand now rested on her bare hip, his mind regaling him with visions of the rest of her.
Readily, Deckard found he was tired of not being able to see his wife in the darkness. Carefully, he extricated himself from her. He’d become somewhat of an expert in the task. She was a heavy sleeper, which helped. However, they’d never slept quite as twisted up in one another’s embrace, so he found it a greater challenge than usual. Still, she only stirred once as he climbed free of the bed.
The frigid air nipped Deckard’s skin as he darted across the room. He only had one mission and wanted to accomplish it quickly. He jerked the curtains back, letting the light flood the space. The slightest rustle of blankets alerted him to Evylin’s disturbed sleep, so he hurried back to begin the gratifying process of enfolding her into his arms again.
Evylin roused as he slipped his arm beneath her neck. “You’re cold,” she mumbled, the words low and slurred.
Deckard kissed the top of her head. “I know, I’m sorry. Go back to sleep,” he whispered into her hair.
Without another word, Evylin snuggled into him. Their legs twisted together again as she settled her cheek on his shoulder. He let his hand drop back to her hip while running the other along her arm and back. Her breathing soon returned to its slow, rhythmic pulse. The blankets still covered all but the tips of her shoulders and head.
Propped up by his pillow, Deckard savored the moment. In the serenity of sleep, Evylin took on a more youthful look. Her muscles relaxed fully, her lips parted, and her foot twitched beside him. Her brow, normally so animated with expression, lay unaffected. So often, her hooded eyes lifted with her gregarious and teasing smiles, but now they turned down with a contemplative tilt. Her dark brown lashes grazed the very tops of her cheeks, drawing his eyes down to the solitary freckle that so often got swallowed up by her smile lines.
Deckard drew his fingers up from her shoulder to the rounding of her cheek to sweep away the loose wisps of her hair.This is it,he thought,the culmination of everything I’d hoped for.He’d imagined one future his whole life: a future in which he’d serve his country and build a family, a future marked with love for and dedication to others. Now, he stood at the precipice, holding his wife in his arms as they worked to change the nations around them.
Though Deckard still had reservations about the Alliance, Archminister Fishere’s speech had put him at great ease. He might not be willing to promise his life to their service, but he was happy to assist them in overthrowing their currently corrupted overlords.
However, there was the problem of his promise to Auden.“I want your word that you’ll join the Alliance in whatever capacity they ask of you.”Those were Auden’s exact words. Deckard hadn’t quite figured out how to handle that expectation. Even then, Deckard had known that the Alliance would request that he and Evylin Bond. Now that they were doing that, what else would that promise require of him? Was it even something hecouldfulfill? He wouldn’t go back on his word, but it wasn’t solely up to him to uphold it either.
Evylin hadn’t made promises to Auden. She was free to do as she pleased. So if the Alliance asked Deckard to do something she didn’t want to take part in, how would he handle such a plea?
