Page 26 of A Match Made in Slumber

I ran into the garden, all the way to the back, towards the overgrown raspberry bushes. I halted there, my hands pressed hard against my chest to try and stop my heart from fracturing.

A short moment passed before the grass rustled behind me.

“Elian, look at me,” Kill’em said in his commander's voice. The one he’d use when I would spiral from nerves and overthinking. Or when we were in bed.

“I’m sorry about the match. I—”

“Stop apologising and listen to me,” Kill’em interrupted, stepping in front of me. He reached out, his large hands grabbing mine as he pushed the golden box between my palms. The movement was firm and charged with intent. “I don’t want it. I am not going to use it. Just destroy it.”

My brain stalled. I stared down at the box, my tongue tripping over the sudden surge of confusion. “W-what? But why? You can go back now. You heard Morrigen; he said it was safe. Wasn't… wasn't that what you were waiting for all along? To go home?”

“‘Home’?” A short, dry sound escaped him—a laugh without humour. He dragged a hand through his hair, tugging at his braid. “I am home, Elian. Can't you see it? I’m only home when I’m with you.”

The world seemed to blur at the edges. The box fell from my hand and onto the lawn. Speechless and gaping, I stood, unable to process the gravity of what he’d said.

“So…” I faltered, my sluggish mind refusing to draw the conclusion. He needed to say it. I needed to hear the words spoken, clear as day, with no room for misinterpretation.

“So I am staying here with you. If you’ll have me.” His calloused hands enveloped mine, warm and strong. “You’re absolutely sure you don’t have a Binding Match handy? Hidden in another fancy box somewhere?” He winked.

I shook my head, my lips tugging into a weak smile.

“Well, I’m certain you can invent one within two days. That's plenty of time for an alchemical genius of your expertise.”

I wrung my hands, nerves fluttering at the bottom of my stomach. “But what if I can’t?”

“I’ll take my chances. I’m staying,” he repeated.

“For… like forever?” I whispered.

“That's it, pumpkin. Forever.”

At the deep ring of sincerity in his voice, relief hit me, so profound it was almost dizzying. Yet, just as quickly, dark doubts rode in on a wave of insecurity, scratching the surface of my mind. Responsibility lay stitched into the very lining of this man’s character. By choosing me, he relinquished his status, stripping himself of his entire identity. Would that sacrifice rot into resentment two years down the line? Could a quiet life in a municipal marketplace ever satisfy a worldly vanguard officer? Or would the phantom weight of his abandoned burdens eventually poison our joy?

Kill’em scrutinised my face and sighed. “I can almost see those frantic little cogs turning inside your brain. Don’t misunderstand, Elian. I am not doing this for you. I am doing this for me. I have fought this battle in my mind for far too long. I felt weak, ashamed and guilty for abandoning my post. Like a lesser man, a failure of a soldier. But to be honest, I’m tired of fighting, tired of the slaughter. Enough. From now on, the only thing I’m determined to fight for is us. That is the selfish truth of it.”

He paused, his gaze softening as he looked down at our joined hands. “I want to live my life for myself and be happy. It’s a basic, simple concept, yet I’ve never had it. I want the luxury of a choice. Maybe I won’t be able to protect my realm, my queen or my men anymore; they must look to others now. But I will protect you. I will look after our friends and the marketplace. To throw away what we've already built would make me a damn idiot. If losing that old life means losing my honour—”

“Nothing you do could ever make you lose your honour.” The words squeezed their way past my tight throat, emerging hoarse and scratchy. “You are the most honourable person I know. And after all the sacrifices you’ve made, you deserve to choose your own destiny more than anyone else.”

A traitorous sob escaped me. I sniffled straight against his chest, wetting the indigo silk of his tunic. Snot or not, Kill’em didn’t even flinch. He produced a clean handkerchief from his vambrace, dabbing at my face with infinite patience.

“You’re sure?” I mumbled into the fabric at last. “Completely sure?”

“Affirmative. Damn certain.” A rare laugh huffed from his chest. “I’ve been sure for a while. Just needed time to digest the logistics. Now then, will you have me as your real hus—”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” I said, delivering a slap to his arm and then resisting the urge to massage my throbbing palm. It felt like smacking a stone pillar. “You are my real husband. In my heart and on the paperwork. Trying to wiggle out of your legal duties, Chief Reñyés? A contract is a contract.” I grinned. “Our market regulations allow a three-day window to return a product. No returns accepted past the deadline.”

Kill’em gazed at me with delicious intensity. “No returns wanted, Elian,” he murmured. He took a slow, deliberate step forwards, his posture shifting into a predatory stance.

A thrill coiled in my chest, a sudden heat pooling deep in my abdomen. I loved it when he ‘hunted’ me this way, and he enjoyed pursuing me in those little games, too. I stepped back, moving on tiptoes across the grass until… my spine encountered the sharp, biting thorns of the raspberry shrubs behind me. I gave an undignified squeak.

That sound doubled into another even higher-pitched squeal when the world tilted a moment later as Kill’em scooped me off my feet before I could scramble away from the bushes. Carrying me back towards the house, he marched straight through the back door and into our bedroom, not even panting once. He set me down so my back pressed to the solid cottage wall.

He allowed no distance between us. Placing one palm flat on the wood just above my head, he leant in with excruciating slowness. Ever so fine, ever so domineering. He lifted my chin with his long index finger and his blue gaze—frosty yet scorchingly hot—locked onto my own. His parted lips met mine.

In all my years of trading, I’d never been kissed to seal a deal before. But despite that, I knew exactly what purpose this one served—to impose a permanence clause on our futures, binding us in a contract no marketplace regulator could ever void.

Keălhem