Jaxon ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He shed his jacket, flinging it over a nearby chair, and poured himself a generous pour from the decanter. The amber liquid sloshed around the glass briefly before he downed the entire contents.
“That was a Daka,” he breathedandslammed the glass onto the table, making me jump.
The gravity of his words hung between us, and I stared at him, confusion and fear swirling in my mind. “How is that possible? I thought they were from your world?” I reached out for him but stopped myself. My hands were caked with blood, and I scrunched my nose at the sight.
“You should get cleaned up,” he said, his voice softer but still tense. “I’ll be here when you get out.”
I nodded and went to the bathing chamber to clean up. When I was no longer covered in blood and in fresh clothing, I made my way back out to the main room.
Jaxon still stood, but he seemed more relaxed than before. “My brother would have increased protection at the realm entrance, and guards have always been stationed there.” He took a deep breath, his voice laced with weariness. “Which means either the witches have made it here, or their rumors were right… and Morgana is alive.”
I sank into the winged chair in front of the hearth, Jaxon’s anguish palpable as I struggled to find the right words. “Whatwould that mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. My chest tightened with anxiety.
“It means I truly did put your realm and mine at risk.” Jaxon’s voice cracked as he shook his head, his features contorted with guilt. “If Morgana is still alive, and I opened the door…” he trailed off, his words a jumbled mess of remorse. He bowed his head. “I risked too much.” His voice was barely audible. “Xavier was right…”
At the sight of him, I stood, unable to stop myself from going over to him. I wrapped my arms around him in an embrace, and he stilled from the sudden contact. I breathed him in, and I shivered in response. His golden stare met mine, and confusion swept across his expression.
“If she is alive, then we will stop her together,” I said stubbornly. “We will find this book and your mother and make Morgana pay for the centuries you didn’t get to have with her.”
My heart thundered in my chest, and I couldn’t explain why, but the need to be nearer to him was overwhelming. I wanted to erase the pain etched into his face. He went unnaturally still as my chest pushed into his. Our gazes still locked, I leaned up and kissed his mouth gently with mine.
He let out a breath, his arms encircling me and pulling me closer. The kiss deepened, his lips parting mine in a slow, deliberate, and demanding way. When we finally broke apart, I leaned back, my mind racing. I barely knew this man, yet I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him and touching him.
“You almost died today, and it would have been my fault,” he said, breaking the silence between us.
I shook my head, my voice soft and unwavering. “I am alive today because of you.” My gaze fell back to his lips, my breath catching in my throat.
“Together,” he said, echoing my previous words, pulling me back and kissing me again.
*
Jaxon reluctantly left shortly after our kiss to fulfill his duties as captain, but returned with dinner for both of us later that evening. Still reeling from the day's attack, I was too wired to eat and left my plate untouched.
While Jaxon had been working, I had dived headfirst into our history books for a sign of anything unusual—anything that might indicate a witch from another world was here.
When Jaxon returned, he joined me in my research. We eventually found ourselves sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a sea of books, our conversation drifting far from the pages.
He spoke of his realm and family, sharing a childhood shaped by the aftermath of a devastating war. After their parents’ deaths, their uncle stepped in as regent until Xavier came of age, his strict guidance stripping away the remnants of their youth.
While other children played, Jaxon and Xavier spent their days immersed in endless lessons. They studied history, learned everything they could about the witches and the Daka, and memorized court protocols until their minds grew numb.
As the eldest, Xavier bore the brunt of their uncle’s demands. He had been sent off to study and train under various generals and lords, leaving Jaxon alone until he was old enough to begin training himself.
The burden of an entire kingdom had fallen on them before they ever had the chance to truly be children.
Our discussion stretched into the night, the crackling fire casting flickering shadows across the room as we talked. At some point, exhaustion claimed me, and I must have drifted off to sleep.
I woke to the softness of the mattress beneath me and shifted, cracking open an eye. The room was dark, and I yawned, wondering what time it was.
A sudden creak broke the silence, and I froze, my heart skipping a beat. The mattress dipped beneath me, and I turned, my gaze meeting the golden gleam of Jaxon’s in the dark as he lowered himself onto the bed beside me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Jaxon didn’t respond right away; just reached out and gently pulled me to him. My back pressed against the solid warmth of his chest as he settled in behind me, his body molding perfectly to mine.
“That chair is uncomfortable,” he muttered sleepily into my hair.
His arm tightened around me, his palm resting just below my breast.
