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“I will not have the sea stained with more blood, especially not on my account. Maybe we don’t have a chance at reconciling our peoples. Maybe we are the only two in the world who desire that. But if we are, then let us be united, even if no one else ever understands it.” I gently kiss his brow, then his temple, then the corner of his mouth. “Come to the maelstrom with me tomorrow, not as a contender but as my mate.”
He reaches up, pressing his hand against my shoulder as I lean in to kiss him again. He stops me with a single finger against my lips. “And what happens if your people turn against you? Evya, will you regret this? Will you regretme?”
I clasp his hands in mine and speak firmly, so he can know I mean every word I say. “The only thing I will regret is not being with you for every moment we have left. You are my home and my tribe now.”
The hesitation melts from him as I speak. His fingers slip from my shoulder and trace down the curves of my body, then his arms wrap around me as we fall together. There is no more to say, nothing standing between us. At last, even the sigh of the waves and the gleaming light of the maraseya blossoms seem to fade. There is only Keliveth and me, lost in each other until we are one.
Chapter 17
Keliveth
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Iwant to hold herforever.
I awaken too soon, my slumber chased away by an unsettled shift in the wind. Through the broad leaves of the tree, I watch dawn erase the stars one by one. Each shift in the light feels like encroaching doom.
I keep my arms around Evya even as the sky turns pale, engraving every detail of her into my memory. The softness of her skin, the gentle rhythm of her breathing as she sleeps, the scents of salt water and maraseya blossoms that cling to her.
My mate. My wife. I stroke the loose tangles of her hair. She stirs, curling closer against my chest with a sigh.
“A little longer,” she murmurs.
Her eyes are half open, and her gaze flits up the sky even as she holds me fast. Dawn light pools on the water, turned crimson by the low haze that lies on the horizon. An uneasy rustle runs through the maraseya leaves, and the wind smells of coming storms. We have to go.
“I wish the world would forget us for a while.” I nuzzle her forehead. “But we have a war to stop, if we can.”
Evya sits up on one elbow. When she looks down at me I catch the shadow of worry in her expression. “Are you ready?”
“No.” I reach up and gently trace my fingers over the elegant contours of her face. “But whatever fate we have sealed for ourselves, I will face it gladly. No regrets, remember?”
“No regrets,” she echoes, though her smile is tinged with sadness.
We rise reluctantly, still half lost in the dream of last night. We whisper and laugh as we gather our scattered clothing and comb the knots from each other’s hair. We take our time as we wash in the ocean and catch fish for breakfast, stealing slow kisses even as the moments hurry by. Evya changes into her sparkling white festival gown. I help her pluck maraseya flowers and braid them into her hair.
But by the time the sun is full in the sky, we’re almost out of ways to linger.
