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Silence is all that meets me, and when I look up at her, she’s staring ahead. I sigh, but I knew she wasn’t ready to see me. I rise to my feet and maintain the image of stoicism, though I’m so far from it. “I’m sorry for intruding when you need to rest.” Even though she said she wanted to see me, I still feel like it’s a mistake now. “I’ll go.”
I turn, my heart sinking with every step. I don’t want to leave. I want to hold her, to know she’s okay and that she doesn’t hate me. I’ve given that girl my heart, and now I’m leaving, giving her every opportunity to crush it.
Just as I reach the door, putting out a hand to grip the knob, her voice finally cuts through the air.
“Wait…”
90
NATALIE
Kha’zeth turns back to where I lay in the bed, his posture more resigned than hopeful. I tangle my fingers in the sheets covering me, trying to disguise the anxiety that pulses through me as he levels a look at me. I don’t know what to say, but I know that I don’t want him to go.
We look at each other for a long moment, the loaded silence hanging between us before Kha’zeth finally breaks it.
“Do you want me to sit with you?”
I nod, grateful that he’s saved me from trying to put my scattered thoughts into words. Kha’zeth takes a seat in the chair by my bed, and I tear my gaze from my hands as I take a steadying breath.
“That day was the worst day of my life,” I tell him quietly.
Kha’zeth’s face is solemn as he nods, his fingers twitching in my direction as if to reach for me. I make no move to take his hand, not yet- not until I’m sure I know everything about what happened that day.
“When I found out you were a part of the raid, it was like something inside me broke. All I could think about was that massive demon turning Toklys’ skull to splinters. I kept picturing your face beneath all of that armor, kept thinking- kept thinking that you didn’t tell me about your involvement with the raid because you were the one who killed Toklys and took me.”
Kha’zeth is shaking his head emphatically before I even complete the thought, opening his mouth to defend himself when I hold up a hand, wordlessly signaling to him that I’m not done. He stills, waiting for me to continue as I force myself to meet his eyes.
“I need you to be honest. I want to figure this out, I really do, but for us to do that I need to know exactly what happened, no holds barred.”
Kha’zeth nods, waiting a beat to see if I’m going to continue. When I don’t, he does, speaking softly and deliberately, holding my eyes the entire time.
“I did not kill Toklys. I did not kill anyone, at least not directly. I opened the portals that allowed the demons through, and in that way I am responsible for the deaths that occurred, but I never lifted a blade or a hand to anyone in your camp. I did not set foot on Protheka, and I did not take any of the women from your camp. Please know that I would never, ever lie to you about this,” he says, his voice turning more emphatic and pleading as his explanation draws to a close.
“I should have told you everything sooner, and while I may not have killed anyone personally, I take full responsibility for the lives lost that day. I’m so sorry, Natalie. I might as well have killed them myself by opening those portals-”
“Stop,” I interrupt him, my voice cracking at the raw emotion in Kha’zeth’s face as he spirals, pleading his case with me. I raise my hand to cup his cheek, shocked at the moisture gathered in his eyes and the distress etched into his features. “You didn’t kill them,” I say quietly, as much to comfort him as to comfort myself. I drag my thumb across his high cheekbone, holding his gaze.
“I never thought you were a monster, or a killer – even when I was scared and believed the worst, in my soul I knew that you weren’t capable of lying to me about something so awful,” I admit, my thumb never ceasing in its small strokes across his face.
Kha’zeth’s shoulders drop with the weight of his relief, and he leans into my palm, pressing sweet kisses into it as he looks at me.
“I’m still sorry,” he says thickly. “I’m sorry for keeping things from you, for opening those portals in the first place, for giving you any reason to doubt me. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.” A small smile plays on my lips at his promise, all sorts of ideas dancing through my head.
“I’ll have to think of a few ways you can make it up to me, then,” I say coyly as I look at him, letting my eyes rove over the strong, handsome planes of his face. I haven’t allowed myself to feel the full scope of my desire for him, how hard it was to be away from him, until this moment.
Shock flashes over Kha’zeth’s face for a split second before it’s quickly replaced with a cocky, purely male grin. “I look forward to making it up to you, over and over,” he murmurs, leaning forward to catch my lips in a gentle, needy kiss that tells me just how worried he truly was.
“I’ll make it up to you for as long as you let me.”
Sunlight falls across the garden in thick shafts between the branches of the trees, respective spots of light and shadow blending together in a hypnotic dance. Kha’zeth and I are laying across a thin blanket in the middle of the gardens, as has become our weekly tradition.
Despite the land of Ti’lith being completely foreign and intimidating to me when I first arrived, I’ve now found it, and especially Kha’zeth’s gardens, to be a particular source of comfort. Silvery lolanean blossoms dance in the dry wind, the sunlight glinting off their metallic petals.
I sigh, nestling further into Kha’zeth’s arms, loving the way he squeezes me closer. So far, pregnancy has been exactly what I’d always imagined it would be, although I could do with less of Kha’zeth’s territorial instincts. He nearly skinned one of the zonak alive yesterday after he walked into our room without knocking.
I’d suspected the day I ran into the howler beasts’ nest that I may have been pregnant, but I didn’t know for sure until Kha’zeth confirmed it for me while I was recovering. It’s still far too early for me to be showing, but little one seems to want to make their presence known in other ways, like the persistent nausea or how quick I am to fatigue.
Kha’zeth’s hand wanders from my waist to my belly, as it so often does these days, and I feel more than see a small tendril of his magic brush against my belly. A tiny tendril of magic answers his.
