The storm king, p.15
The Storm King, page 15
part #3 of The Lost God Series
“How could he not? But I also notice how you wore your hair down.” As he said the words, he brushed her hair over one shoulder, sliding a finger up her neck. She maintained eye contact, her face placid, though he could feel her heart race at the touch.
It shocked him how easily they fell back into their old games. His relentless flirting came so naturally. Her defiant resistance made him just as spellbound as it always had.
“I’m not very good at doing my own hair for these things. It’s easiest to just leave it down.” She kept her voice calm as he circled her, but her heartbeat kicked up.
“And your comb? Was that also just out of necessity?” He breathed the words right next to her ear, and she shivered against him.
He loved this game they played. He loved it more when they were together, but after so long without being near her, he couldn’t stop himself. Consequences be damned.
“No, that I wore for you.” She smiled as he walked back in front of her.
The admission caught him off-kilter.
“Why?” he asked honestly.
“Because I thought you might want it for your new wife and because what we had still means something to me. If you’d read any of my letters, you would know that.”
He’d read every single word she’d written at least a hundred times, probably more. The creases in them were nearly worn through from all the folding and unfolding. They were what kept him going, though he wondered if Cece knew.
He looked at her lips, imagining the words of each letter coming out of them. Gods, those lips. He would do anything to kiss her again—to hear the breathy little sounds she made when he kissed her neck. He hadn’t so much as looked at another woman that way. Cece had ruined him for any other woman.
She stepped forward and the lantern lit her eyes the same shade as the Adiran Sea. He’d been stunned to silence when he arrived in Olney and saw the summer sea for the first time. He’d been stunned the same the first time he looked into her eyes up close.
Xander’s life had been forever cleaved in half the moment he held her in his arms by the river and kissed her. All the chaos in his life could likely be traced back to that moment. He was as grateful for it as he was tortured by it, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“I’ve read all your letters, Cece.”
Her brow wrinkled in indignation. “Then why didn’t you reply?”
“Things have been busy.”
It was a shitty excuse, and he knew she probably saw through it. Her mask of composure wavered. If he didn’t know her so well, he might have missed it, but he saw the slightest hint of more than just her calm external shell.
“It’s been a year, Xander. I needed—” She stopped herself and took a breath, steadying her voice. “It would have meant a lot to hear from you.” It was so like her to not admit to needing anything.
“Well, you might have missed it, but I’m king now. There’s a never-ending to-do list and trying to appease a whole kingdom and stabilize it after an attempted coup has been complicated.”
Her eyes dimmed with hurt. “I’ve written a lot of them. It wouldn’t have taken much to just write a line or two back to let me know you’re well.”
He wanted to tell her how every time he went to put his thoughts to paper, they spun around his head like a vortex of grief and loss and longing. Instead of saying that, he continued to act like an ass. It was safer.
“And what does Rainer think of your letters?”
“I don’t have anything to hide from him.”
Xander leaned closer, twirling one of her curls around his finger. “I want to kiss you very badly right now.”
Fisting his tunic, she leaned closer, the thin silk over her breasts pressed into the heavy velvet of his shirt. Her lips brushed the shell of his ear as she said two words that nearly brought him to his knees.
“I know.”
Only she would be so fearless before a king.
She backed away and gave him a triumphant smile. For a moment all Xander could do was stare at her. He had always been—and was once again—out of his depth with her.
Xander laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Gods! Does Rainer have any idea how lucky he is?”
She bit her lower lip. “I try to remind him a few times a day.”
“I bet you do. Where is your shadow, anyway?” He looked past her, expecting to see Rainer lurking in some nearby shade. “I didn’t think he’d let us have so much unsupervised time.”
“He’s not my keeper. He wanted to give you some space.”
“Maybe his overconfidence is to my benefit. What do you think, Cece? Quick and dirty? I know how much you like it up against the wall.”
She laughed it off but couldn’t hide the flush climbing up her neck. “As much as you’d enjoy that, I’m not sure that Rain would appreciate it.”
“I seem to remember that he was pretty lenient when it came to your desires. Does that not still hold true?”
She crossed her arms. “Don’t start.”
Evan brought her here to help root out the spies in their midst, though perhaps he also did it to get Xander to be the kind of man he should be: a leader, a hero, a king. Seeing Cece now made him want to do just that. The problem was that he didn’t want to do so to impress a bunch of foreign princesses—he wanted to impress her.
Before seeing Cece in that beautiful dress, he probably could have come close to convincing himself that someone else would do, at least on a surface level. Seeing her now, he knew no one ever would. He would love her madly until the day he died. There was no one else who could compare. It went deeper than lust, deeper than her beauty, deeper than her saving his life when he hadn’t deserved it. It was all of her—the untamed wildness she held onto through all of her suffering and the beautiful hope she inspired in other people. It was the way she’d seen him and pulled him out of his shell. She was the brightest star in his sky, and even without godly meddling or influence, Xander was just as in love with her as he had always been.
Xander did not realize how much he’d been counting on her to drag him up out of the dark. It was only her hands he’d recognize by touch alone, delicate and soft but for the calluses from her bow. It was only her scent he’d follow blindly through the labyrinth of grief. It was only her light that illuminated the way out of the dark forest of hurt.
But now that he was looking at her, he saw how treacherous this gamble was. One misstep and he’d never reclaim himself. How easily he could plunge back into dark water. How quickly he could be swept away from shore to a place not even she could reach.
The danger should have been sobering, but he’d learned nothing and was still just as thrilled by it.
She rubbed her thumb over her inner wrist, her eyes darting toward a noise down the stable corridor. “I’m just here to help,” she said.
Xander wanted to challenge her—to say, “I thought you were here to lead me out of the underworld, to breathe into me so I can stop living a half-life and finally become whole.” But he could tell immediately that something was different. She carried a new edginess, her eyes darting over her shoulder like she’d been running for a year and these two weeks of slowness would allow her ghosts to catch up. He’d expected her to do the haunting, but she’d arrived haunted.
“I was hoping we could talk about some things. Perhaps tomorrow when the excitement of the party has faded,” she said.
Xander frowned. He knew what this was. She was going to try to pry the secrets from his heart. She wanted answers, and he had no interest in giving them up. Frankly, he had no interest in examining them at all.
He ran a finger down her arm. “Of course, just meet me in my chambers and we’ll have a very private audience.”
“Xander,” Cece chided, swatting his hand away. She brushed her hair back over her shoulder. The neckline of her dress shifted and the very edge of the golden scar on her chest peeked out from the scalloped lace.
There’d been talk about that scar and about her great love story with Rainer McKay. The woman who’d come back from death and given up her immortal life with the gods to be with her one true love. Funny that the two of them had loved their fairy tales so much, and had themselves ended up one of the greatest love stories in the land.
“Can I see it?” Xander asked, meeting her eyes again.
She tentatively brought her hand to her chest. Her hesitation wasn’t about modesty—he’d seen her naked plenty. It was the intimacy of what the scar meant. It was that he’d been there to witness it, that he’d seen her come back.
He’d watched her die. He’d felt his heart break as the light left her eyes. And then he’d watched her come back to life. He’d let her go because of what that scar meant. Her letters captured the way coming back had marked her life, but he’d not seen how it had marked her body.
She pulled the lace to the side, revealing the full scar. It was roughly two inches wide, and even in the dim stable lighting, it seemed to shine.
“Grim’s Gates,” he whispered. Without thinking, he reached out to run his fingers over it. She shivered at his touch, but she didn’t pull away. “Does it hurt?”
“No, it’s just very sensitive,” she whispered.
His eyebrows shot up, and then, because he was a reckless idiot, he ran his thumb over the scar again, harder.
She shuddered and cursed, swatting his hand.
Xander chuckled. “Have I ever told you that you have the filthiest mouth I have ever heard?”
Cece crossed her arms. “As I recall, you’ve always been a fan of my filthy mouth.”
Suddenly all he could think about was her mouth wrapped around him, and just like that, she was back to having the upper hand.
He shrugged. “You’re not wrong.”
“Good to know that you still have the same boundary issues you always have.” She rolled her eyes, but he could tell she was ruffled.
“What can I say? Kings take what they want.”
He expected her to have a quick comeback, but her heated gaze locked on his. Something chimed out a warning in the back of his mind. He should step away. Put space between him and the thing that could brutalize him. He should protect his heart from the woman who had pulverized it. But he was snared by her eyes.
Finally, she looked away. “Your court is waiting, Your Majesty, and I can feel my love getting impatient.” She brushed her fingers over the scar as she started toward the doorway.
Xander watched her retreat with a sinking sensation in his stomach.
He had not just loved Cecilia Reznik. He had survived her, and he was not sure he could do it again.
13
CECILIA
Cecilia took a deep breath outside the ballroom doors. The crisp northern air felt good.
She didn’t know how Xander always managed to ruffle her. She’d hoped she would see him and feel nothing. Instead, the wounds she thought long-healed were still startlingly delicate, waiting for the slightest encouragement to split and start bleeding again. The love that was once so grand and sweeping had dulled to an ache behind the scar in her chest. In seeing him, she’d realized she was missing a part of herself that she could never fully recover, or maybe that she didn’t want back. He’d seemed eager to return it to her by ignoring her letters, but now he flirted with her as if they’d skipped over all the pain between them and looped back to where they started.
Xander was so unaffected while she was so raw. She didn’t want him to hurt, but his easy flirtation made her feel alone—not just in her grief, but in her entire memory of their relationship.
It felt as if no time had passed, and his seduction confused her more after a year of silence.
“Like it’s just a game to him,” she whispered.
She lifted her hair away from her neck and fanned herself with her hand.
“Did he already get to you?” a voice asked.
Cecilia jumped, her hand flying to the dagger on her thigh.
Evan walked toward her, seemingly straight out of the darkness.
Hunters and their silent lurking.
She met his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He smirked. “I do. I’ve seen that face many times after Xander planted one on you in public after he charmed the pants off you when we were on the run.”
“I get it,” Cecilia sighed. “Do I look that undone?”
Evan shrugged. “I would try to pull it together before you see Rainer. I did convince him that this was a good idea.”
“I know. I was the one that didn’t want to come.” She took a breath. “Xander seems the same. I know he’s not. I believe what your letters said, but he was the same to me as he’s always been. Worse, maybe.”
Evan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, gods. What did he do?”
“Just the usual. Offered to fuck me against the wall,” Cecilia said.
Evan shook his head. “Well, I’m glad he’s still in there. He’s not been himself in a long time.”
Grief and guilt swelled in the air around Evan. He was usually better at locking his emotions down. Of all of their friends, he had always been the hardest for her to read, but it seemed the year had taken a toll on him as well.
“I know I’m here to help keep him safe, but I’m a bit worried my presence isn’t going to help him find a queen,” Cecilia said.
“You bring out the best and worst in him.” Evan rubbed the back of his neck. “Gods know he needs to get married and have an heir sooner rather than later. The peace in this kingdom relies on it.” He studied her, his gaze passing over her dress suspiciously. “You are going to help with that, right?”
She leaned back against the white stone wall. “I can certainly try, but I consider myself to be lucky with one miracle in my lifetime. I’m not sure I should push my luck in hoping for two.”
He crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the wall. “Cece, I’m going to ask you something, and please don’t be mad at me for asking.”
She nodded.
“Why haven’t you and Rainer set a wedding date?”
She winced and looked away. “It’s complicated. I wasn’t myself for a while. It’s hard to move on thinking of everyone we’ve lost—”
“Survivor’s remorse. It’s normal, Cece. Teddy would want you to be happy. He was loyal to Xander, but he was also kind of obsessed with you and Rainer’s bond. I think he would have been at peace with how this all turned out.”
Cecilia stiffened at the casual way he talked about a young life exchanged for hers. It still broke her weary heart.
“Is that all?” Evan asked.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What else would there be?”
Evan gave her a knowing look. “Well, you wore that very stunning dress. I thought maybe you were still in love with the king.”
“Maybe I knew I was seeing the man who ripped my heart out, and I wanted to remind him what he was missing,” she said pointedly.
“Fair enough. He’s still in love with you.”
Cecilia sighed, wrapping a curl around her finger. “I’ll always love him. If it wasn’t for Rain—” She let the words trail off because it was too painful to think about possibilities. Now that she was back in Argaria, she could see a hundred fractured versions of her future—shards that reflected a life that would have been so different but so happy. It might have been easier if Xander had been angry or cold; if she hadn’t felt the raw energy in the air between them; if she could blame her past on a naive lack of judgment instead of a true understanding of a heart that was so much like her own. She wanted seeing him to free her from caring. But it had only made her more desperate to understand him.
“I couldn’t give him what he needs anyway, Evan,” she said quietly. If she were queen, there would be no heirs. “What we had, we can’t get back. It was another casualty of war. I can’t—” Cecilia’s throat grew tight with emotion. “I can’t give him what he needs and what he deserves, and I don’t know how to get back the trust we lost.”
“I assumed as much. I thought maybe you could find a new trust.”
She furiously blinked away tears. “It was always going to be Rainer for me.”
Evan looked like he wanted to say more, but he pressed his lips into a thin line and nodded.
“Do you know why he hasn’t written me back?” she asked.
Evan’s face pulled into a pitying smile. “I don’t. You’d have to ask him.”
She nodded, looking up at the starry night sky. She smoothed her dress and tried to steel herself for a room full of Argarian lords and ladies. “How do I look now?”
His lips twitched in the barest hint of a genuine smile. “Like you’re ready for battle.”
Evan opened the door, and Cecilia entered the ballroom.
She felt Rainer’s eyes on her immediately. As she walked toward him, he smiled and she couldn’t help but return it. He took her hand and kissed the crescent moon scar on the outside of her palm, leaning down to level his mouth against her ear.
“I wish we weren’t in front of all these people so that I could give you a greeting appropriate for how incredible you look in that dress,” he whispered.
Cecilia’s cheeks heated as she leaned into him, ignoring the gawking stare of the crowd around them. She reached up and brushed his hair back from his forehead. She didn’t blame people for staring. He was so handsome, she couldn’t stop staring either.
“You look pretty good yourself, Guardian McKay.”
“Perhaps we should skip the party and just go upstairs,” he whispered.
Cecilia considered the idea. He laughed and kissed her inner wrist.
“Gods, could you two be more disgustingly happy?”
Cecilia turned and grinned at Cal Bennington.
“Cal! I didn’t know you were going to be here for this part!” Cecilia said, pulling him into a hug.
Several onlookers raised their eyebrows. While it wasn’t appropriate for Cecilia to hug a man who wasn’t family or a husband in public, she hadn’t seen Cal in a year and she didn’t care.
