Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords Book 3) (31 page)

I lift a hand and rub my encrusted eyelids. Where am I? My arm trembles and I lower it to my side to focus on fully opening my eyes. It takes a long time. My surroundings are blurred together in a grey and black mess.

Something shifts beside me, startling me enough to bring the room into focus. I jerk in the bed and clamp down on a surprised scream as pain shoots from my back through to the front of my ribs.

The pain takes precedence over whatever woke me. My hands clumsily open my nightgown. I blink down at the bandaging wrapped beneath my breasts. With clumsy movements I feel for the source of my pain. Judging by the itching in my back I have a wound there too. Did someone run me through? My mind throbs as I strain to remember the details.

I breathe deeply as my head spins. Trying to remember is obviously a bad idea.

I let my gaze fall to my right and my breath catches in my throat. Jovan. I lift a hand, tracing the dark shadows under his eyes. He’s fast asleep. Tears build in my eyes, and an exhausted sob escapes me. I bite my sore lip so I don’t make a sound as I draw my fingers over his face. My shoulders shake as tears fall unrestrained over my cheeks and into my hair. I thought I’d never see him again. That desperate thought, I remember without effort. I wonder how long he’s been here. Long enough to succumb to his bone-deep fatigue. He looks worried. Though I’ve never watched him sleeping, so there’s no way to know if there’s usually a small frown between his brows.

My crying eventually wakes him. I watch as his eyes blink open. He smiles sleepily at me, the frown disappearing for an instant. But reality soon kicks in.

“Lina?” He’s on his knees in a flash. I grimace at the jolt it causes through the bed. Definitely a matching wound in the back.

“Lina?” he repeats.

I lick my lips, trying to talk. This time, I can’t force his name out.

“Don’t try to talk, just rest,” he says, one hand hovering above my head, while the other is held immobile above my stomach. “You’re really awake?” he says in disbelief. He darts furtive looks around the room. “What do I do? What do you need?”

If I had anything left I’d smile at his panic. But I just want him to come closer and never leave. I feel like I’ve been dreaming of this for an eternity.

“Water,” he decides, backing away from the bed. I let my eyes close as he searches for the water.

He rushes back to my other side.

“No! Lina, come back,” he whispers. My eyes are closed now, though, and they can’t seem to open. A head rests against my own. A kiss presses against my temple.

“I need you to come back.” His plea forces my lids open and I shift my head to blink at him.

“Stay awake,” he commands. He tips a trickle of water down my throat and it’s like scratching an itch with one finger. He must see it on my face.

I almost cry as he takes the cool liquid away.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay. I don’t want to give you too much. You’ve been so sick.” I forgive him. But only because he’s given me what I want. His arms around me.

Sobs wrack my pain-filled body. I’m not sad. It’s that I’m so happy; so
grateful
to be here with him. That, and the utter weariness, which is like a blanket so heavy I can’t lift it. “Jovan,” I whisper.

“I’m here.” He rocks me gently. “I’m not leaving.” His voice is hoarse, thick with emotion. “I’ll never leave you.” He wipes my tears away.

* * *

I wake. It’s easier to open my eyes this time. I blink over at Sadra, who decorates a tunic from a rocking chair. She smiles at me and hurries to the door to speak to someone just outside before returning to the bed.

“Tatuma,” she says softly, stroking my hair back. “Welcome back.”

Unlike Jovan, she gives me water immediately. And more. I gulp it down greedily, that and some broth.

I’m sorry for it afterward.

The door slams open just as I lower my head to a bucket provided by the gentle woman.

“What’s wrong?” the king barks.

“She’s unused to the food,” Sadra frets. “The broth was too much.”

I turn from swilling water in my mouth and large hands press me back against the pillows. I clutch my stomach until the pain recedes.

“We’ll try again in a few hours,” Sadra whispers. The sound of her closing the door echoes through the room.

“How do you feel?” Jovan asks, stroking my hair with his thumb. I summon the driest look I possess and level it at him until the ghost of a smile graces his mouth. He leans forward and places a kiss, whisper-soft, on my forehead.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” he says, beginning to untangle himself. The hand resting on his forearm tightens, stopping him. He searches my face for a time.

I squeeze my eyes shut. “Don’t go.”

Tension leaves him like he’s shaking snow off his clothing. He smiles and walks to the door, speaking quickly to the person, or likely several persons, outside. I frown as the conversation keeps him away for too long.

He returns, and instead of settling into his former position, he surprises me by removing his boots and lifting the furs by my side to slip in beside me. He lifts my head gently and places it on top of his hard arm. He pulls me slightly toward him, wrapping his free arm low over my abdomen.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” he demands. My eyes are heavy, but I succeed in rolling them.

* * *

A tickling on my cheek draws me from the depths of sleep. I convince my eyes to open and look with blurry eyes into Jovan’s chest. I’ve studied the smooth firmness enough times to recognize it immediately. I tilt my head back and peek into his eyes. The expression there warms me from the inside out.

He rolls away to get water. This time I keep it down. The same expression is still there once I’m done. He returns to bed and tucks me into his side once more. Jovan licks his lips as he draws his fingers over my skin. My cheeks, my nose, my eyes. My shoulders relax back.

“What happened?” I ask.

His gaze darkens. “There was another soldier. Malir said you fought fifteen, but there were sixteen of them, one scouting the castle. You were stabbed in the back.”

“I let my guard down,” I say, annoyed by my lapse.

“You’d fought several skilled fighters, and from several accounts, climbed up a tapestry in the food hall. You were exhausted,” he says simply. “The man is dead. Killed by your brother.”

I half sit up. “Is Landon okay?”

“He is.” Jovan pushes me back down. “Rhone, Sanjay, and Ice were all injured, but will live.”

Tears prickle the corners of my eyes. My brother. My friends. They’re safe.

Jovan strokes my hair back. “I … need to tell you something.”

I smile half-heartedly at him, too relaxed by his movements.

“When Shard came to report your injury,” he starts. I watch as his eyes dim. “I’ve never been struck through with a weapon, as you have, but I think I felt the same pain as Shard spoke.” He looks away. “His words brought me to my knees.”

“The battle was over. The Solati gone,” he adds, resting his head on the cushion behind him. “I left Roscoe in charge and ran through the night to get to you.”

I want to know more about the battle, but I’m reluctant to interrupt. His arm underneath my head curls around my shoulder, drawing me to him more tightly. My wound twitches, but I don’t have the heart to tell him I’m in pain. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

“You were still alive,” he breathes, eyes shining. His words begin to rush.

“They told me you didn’t have long. The sword went all the way through.” He clenches his jaw. “You’re small, but you lay there on the bed, so tiny and breakable. The blankets looked like they could have crushed you. I thought you were dead at first. Everyone seems to die. And I didn’t dare to hope when you lived to the next day, and the next after that; unmoving, but somehow still breathing.” Tears drip over my face to soak into Jovan’s tunic. He rolls towards me to kiss them away with gentle lips. “I didn’t hope yesterday, I don’t dare to hope now.”

“I was furious with myself,” he says softly against my temple. I pull back to study him.

“I told you—,” I start.

“It’s not that,” he interjects. “I should have trusted my instincts and kept you by my side. Not because I doubt you,” he says quickly. “Something was wrong. A part of me knew your mother and uncle would try to harm you. What if I’d forced you to stay at the castle? The women and children would be dead …
you
would be dead.”

“But that isn’t why I’ve hated myself.” He moves right in front of me so I have no choice but to look into his eyes. Something churns in my stomach at his concentrated resolve.

He runs his thumb along the side of my chin. “I waited too long to tell you. I’ve known how I feel for a long time. Perhaps even when Rhone came to inform me of your decision to learn the sleds.” He frowns. “Of course, I didn’t recognize it immediately. And then denied it until I was told you’d escaped the castle. Then I thought it was too late.”

I shake my head. “Jovan, what are you—”

“I love you.”

I freeze, fixing the king of Glacium with an unblinking stare. “W-what?”

“You were struggling to come to terms with your feelings for me. And I didn’t know what you still felt for Kedrick. You have no idea how that’s tormented me—being jealous of my brother. I didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

I close my mouth as I realize he’s rambling. He snaps his mouth shut.

“You hated yourself because you loved me and didn’t tell me?” I ask, not daring to rejoice just yet. He slowly dips his head.

Warmth spreads through me. Something indescribable and joyful. It doesn’t matter that I can barely lift a finger because I am lit from the inside. It’s liquid courage. Better than any brew I’ve tasted. He has bared himself to me. I recall the final moments before I lost consciousness and clear my throat painfully.

“The blood was leaving my body, but there wasn’t any pain. I knew then that I was dying. I had no control over what I was thinking. I remember my brothers were there in my thoughts, among others.” I look just below his eyes, then force myself to look straight at him. It’s almost painful to do so. He’s here, right in front of me. With everything that’s happened, I still somehow feel like the luckiest person alive.

“But I remember my last thought was regret. That I would never see you and would never touch you again,” I say. I run my fingers through his shoulder-length hair. How many times have I wanted to do this? Why did I waste so much time? “That you would never know what I felt … I’ve never experienced such despair.”

“And what do you feel, Lina?” he presses, tightening his hold.

I turn my eyes to my lap. “I’ve learned I shouldn’t take another moment for granted.” I take a deep breath and let my mask slip. I let him see everything.

“I feel the same, Jovan. I … love you too.”

I glance up shyly, hearing his sharp intake. His beaming grin is boyish—it’s radiant. He feels that same weightlessness as I do. His face is a reflection on my own.

He leans in to kiss me, stealing all thought and air from me. I take just as much as I give and it’s not enough. Never enough. We kiss as if we will never see each other again, or maybe it’s because we gained another moment when all seemed lost. Maybe Jovan knows our days are numbered. I need him, and he needs me.

A pained squeak escapes me as my lips crack. Jovan releases me, pressing his forehead on top on my head with a groan.

“I’m sorry. I forgot myself,” he pants. “That kiss was…”

I lick my lips, numbed to the pain. “Yes,” I whisper. “It was.” I bump his head off mine to gain access to his lips once more.

Eventually he pulls back.

“Do not tempt me, my love. Sadra will kill me with her bare hands if I tax your strength,” he jokes, but I see true concern in his eyes. My stomach flips at his casual use of ‘my love.’ If I had the power to hold on to this moment forever, to stay in his arms and forget the worlds around me, I would. Right now I can pretend we have a future together.

“What are you thinking?” he asks. I rub my ear against his chest to rid myself of the tickle of his breath.

“That we should run away,” I say honestly. “But it wouldn’t work.”

He laughs. “Why?”

I blink up at him through heavy eyes. “You’re too big to hide,” I say around a yawn. His chuckle sends pleasant vibrations through my body.

I swallow obediently as he extracts himself and tilts a trickle of water down my throat once more. I wave the broth away. The smell causes my stomach to rise. I finally give in and just keep my eyes closed. He kisses my forehead and my eyes, then my mouth when I tilt my head back to demand one. No one has ever made me react the way he does.
This
is love.

“I must return to my council, though every part of me wishes to stay here.” He speaks into my hair. It’s probably all over the place. I want to be clean again.

“My people need their king.”

“How many did you lose?” I ask softly.

“56 men here, who were guarding the castle, three Inner Ring women who attempted escape from the Elite, and none at the Great Stairway.”