AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I-I mean, I know we're not really... I know we're not really mates. I can't- we can't be. And I know I'm lucky to even be alive, let alone that I have someone like you in my life. But what if I freak out? It-it wouldn't be the first time, and I can't let myself become a burden on the battlefield. I can't be useless out there." Almost two decades of taunts and abuse echo in the back of my mind, marked permanently onto my skin. Useless. Freak. Burden. Abomination. Waste. Failure. "I mean, just now, I couldn't even smell you or hear your heartbeat before you came in."
He closes the distance between us, his arms around my waist as he turns us around and pushes me back so my back is pressed to the wall. His hands move to pin my hips in place, and he leans forward until his breath brushes against my lips. My head goes quiet, a slight gasp escaping my parted lips as heat flushes me. Suddenly, all that bottled up, blood boiling, pulse pounding anxiety sizzles out, as if he's burned it to a crisp with a single look of those golden eyes.
Suddenly, my heart is rushing for a different reason, and the world feels silent and small in the space between our bodies.
"You have never been, are not, and will never be a burden," he says with such intensity that all I can do is stand there, my body dancing on a thin edge between adrenaline and calm. "Do you know why I call you my flower?"
He wants to talk about that now?
"Um, y-you saw me in the garden. I was holding a flower, and I love—"
"Flowers are beautiful. They can thorns or petals and produce nectar or poison. They can have meaning, even if everyone doesn't know it. They appear delicate and soft, but they can grow in even the unlikeliest of places, creeping in through the cracks and blossoming in between the pavement, creating joy wherever you find them. They are small and subtle, but they help create the very air we breathe. They make the world a better place, and you know what?"
Frankly, I don't even know if I'm still breathing.
I don't think he's ever spoken so many words at once, and he's looking at me like I mean more than the world itself.
"A flower doesn't have to try and be a flower. It cannot fail at being a flower. It is never useless. A flower makes the world a better place just by existing in it."
Chapter Two
The Night King said love and greed are both forms of desire. But loving someone means wanting them so much that desire extends beyond yourself. You want happiness for them the same way you want food or sleep for yourself. You want their well-being with the same intensity, that same natural fierceness that makes you want to survive, like a sense of selfless-preservation. You don't just want them, you wantforthem.
There was a time when I wanted nothing more than the sky. I lived locked in a basement, deprived of daylight and stars. But now, Tristan is my sun, shining even in a castle full of shadow.
"If you can handle the fight, then your training and your powers will be enough," he adds softly. "If you can't, then I don't have the slightest doubt you will find another way to help us, and that will be enough as well. You are enough, flower. You are everything."
"And you are my stars," I whisper, tilting my face up to him like a sunflower so his cheek brushes against mine.
"Can you hear it now?" Tristan asks gently, and I'm in such a daze from the feel of his skin against mine, his hands curving over my hips, that it takes me a moment to process his question.
"What?"
"My heartbeat," he clarifies with a devilish little smile. "You were distracted before. Can you hear it now?"
I close my eyes and search for the familiar sound, echoing Tristan's smile when I can quickly and easily make out the pounding of his heart.
"Yes."
"Good girl... just listen. Find your focus. Your senses are stronger now, but you are stronger too. Focus on one at a time, right here, right now. What do you hear?"
I do as he says, letting my other senses quiet. I block out the sights, the smells, and the noise inside my head until all I can feel are the sounds outside of me.
"I hear you..." I breathe with a curl of my lips. "I hear my father and Helena down the corridor with some nightwalker soldiers. They walk so quietly, it's strange, but I can still make them out."
"What else?"
"I hear the wolves downstairs. Their hearts are faster, and they're anxious for the fight. I can hear..." I giggle slightly in amazement. "I can hear Amara and Mark on the bridge."
"Go on," he whispers, and I shut my eyes even tighter, my brow furrowing from the concentration. "Don't just drown in the sounds. Search for them. Focus."
"I hear the wind blowing, the leaves rustling in the woods beyond the bridge. There's a bird singing on one of the nearby branches. I can hear..." My voice catches in my throat, and I realize I'm holding on to Tristan so tightly my nails are about to dig into his skin.
"What is it?"
My eyes shoot open and meet his, my breath quickening. "Footsteps. I hear Nico's footsteps. He's running toward the bridge."
My mate frowns, pulling away, but I don't have time to feel the cold where his body used to be pressed against mine. "Are you sure?"
