“I have thought, long and hard, about how I would tell you what has happened,” he said softly. “About how I could explain this all to you.”
He looked so fucking sad that it scared me. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it, chest pounding painfully.
“The first thing that I must say is that I’m sorry, Torrance. I am sorry for so much. I do not ever hope to earn your forgiveness, even though I am weak enough to want it.”
“You’re scaring me,” I whispered.
His eyes were haunted as they trekked over my face.
“What do you remember?” he asked.
“Nothing!” I cried, all my confusion and frustration from the past two weeks flowing out of me like lava. “I remember the gathering. And Heofonraed. You went to go fight, to do the trial. And I was alone for so long. Fucking terrified. And then I got sick. Like I had a fever. I was so sick I’m pretty sure I lost consciousness because that’s where everything ends.”
“Fated bride of Wylfrael, starburning but afraid...”
“What? What does that mean? You’re not making any sense!”
He didn’t try to explain the bizarre thing he’d just said. Instead, he took in a short, sharp breath, and said, “I killed you.”
The world tilted, and I fought to right it.
“OK, now you’re really not making any sense. Pretty sure I’m alive and talking to you right now,” I snapped.
“You are alive now, it is true. Thanks to Sceadulyr,” Wylfrael replied.
I shook my head, over and over again, uncertainty rising in me like nausea.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered.
“You’ve asked me, several times now, why I wouldn’t go search out my fated mate.”
I froze. Was he finally going to explain that to me? And why now?
“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.
“Because I knew that this would happen, in a way.” Wylf’s voice grated, and he sounded just as exhausted as I was. “I knew that this would happen to her. I just didn’t know that she was you. When I went to see Rúnwebbe, she did not just give me webbing, but also a prophecy. She told me I would kill my fated mate with my own blade. So, I vowed never to find her. Little did I know, she’d already found me. She was in my Dawn Tower the entire time... A partner and a pawn. Trapped under the arching sky of dawn.”
“That’s why you never wanted to find your bride. You didn’t want to hurt her,” I replied, slowly sifting through what he’d just said.
“Yes,” he murmured gruffly. “But I was a fool. Every step I took away from her, to keep her safe, was one step closer to you and to your death.” His fingers brushed my jaw, and I whimpered, leaning into the touch I’d craved for so long. “The one I was trying to stay away from was you all along, Torrance. You are my fated bride. My eternal mate. That fever you felt in Heofonraed wasn’t illness. It was the starburn.”
“But... How... Why? Why did you...”
“Kill you?” His voice turned raw. “I go over and over that moment in my mind. Trying to find out if there was another way. If I could have sensed it, stopped it.” He pulled his fingers from my face, fisting them in his lap. “The monster I was fighting was an illusion. One of the members of the council must have some kind of shadow power similar to Sceadulyr’s. It wasn’t real, but as I fought, I thought it was. And when I slayed it with my blade, I-” His words shattered, breaking off.
“You hit me instead,” I finished quietly for him.
“Yes.”
He didn’t look at me now. My huge, strong husband was hunched over, pain radiating off of him in waves so thick I could practically see them, catch them in my hands.
“So, you couldn’t see me, and didn’t know it was me,” I said, making sure I fully understood.
“No, I did not see you,” he confirmed. He gave a bitter snort. “I thought I was protecting you. I was terrified because I knew you were near. I could smell you, and it made me strike even harder. Almost immediately, the illusion faded, and I saw what I had done.”
Oh, my God.
Even though I was the one who’d gotten hurt, who’d apparently even died, pain for my husband exceeded my own. I couldn’t even imagine what that must have been like – knowing he’d hurt me. Killed me. Knowing that the brutal prophecy he’d tried so hard to avoid had come true anyway, despite all his efforts, or maybe even because of them.
I reached up, touching the large, shiny pink scar between my breasts through my nightgown.
“Then what happened?” I asked. The things he was telling me were like a story that had happened to someone else. A movie I’d watched once, or a dream. It didn’t feel real.
“I knew the council would not help me. They’d expected me to die in that instant, no doubt. I took you to Sceadulyr. He revived you, and in return, I must open sky doors for him, for as long as it takes until he finds his mate. Or, until I die, I suppose.”
Until he dies...
“So, you’ve... you’ve starburned, then?”
“Yes,” Wylf said. “It started the moment my sword sank into you. Rather cruel timing.”
“So right now, you have the... the...”
“A knot? Yes.”
Heat flared in my belly as I wondered what it looked like. But I doubted he was in the mood to show me. He seemed cagey and uncomfortable. Like he didn’t even know me, or maybe didn’t know himself.
“Wylf,” I whispered, tears squeezing the word, “would you look at me? Hold me?”
His wings shuddered, and his jaw worked.
“I do not feel that I deserve to touch you, beloved. Not now.”
“But what about what I need, what I want?” I sobbed, tears streaming. “Don’t I deserve to be touched by the one I love?”
“You love me,” he said slowly, like he didn’t believe it, “even after all of this. All I’ve told you, all I’ve done...”
“Yes,” I said adamantly. “And even more than that, I forgive you.”
Wylf tensed, his spine going straight.
“No,” he said roughly, “no, beloved. Please don’t forgive me. I have not earned it yet.”
“You can start earning it by coming here and holding me, then! You ridiculous, stubborn man!” I cried, anger fusing with my sadness. “I’ve been here without you for days. Days and nights of pain and loneliness and wanting you. And now, you’re finally here, and you’re more interested in self-flagellation than giving me what I need! And in case it wasn’t clear, what I need is you!”
He sat still and straight, and I thought with a lurch he’d turn me down. But then, like crystal dropped on the floor, shattering, the pieces exploding outward with violent motion, he burst into movement. With a rasping growl, he turned and wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me into his lap. My legs spread across his thighs, straddling him, and I moaned at the hardness pressing against me. It felt different, thicker in the middle than before. The knot.
Wylfrael ran shaky hands under my nightgown, his breathing ragged, his mouth everywhere. Between sucking kisses along my throat, words rushed out of him.
“I’m so sorry, Torrance. I’m sorry. I love you so, so much. I love you while I entirely hate myself. I want to punish myself, to keep away, to never let myself near you because I could never hope to deserve you again. But I am weak, beloved. So weak that my need for you outweighs any questions of deserving or punishment or pain.”