Chapter 59

*"I will help you leave this island."

"What are you saying?" I breathe the words.

The relief those words were supposed to inspire didn’t come; instead, it hurt more.

"Give me three full moons; play this charade with me until the first flower of spring blooms. I will help you cross the immora island and book a passage for you beyond the mortal landing; you can cross the sea to wherever you wish to go." He let go of me and turned his back to me.*

The first ray of light streamed through the window, casting a warm glow and Xen unique scent of cinnamon woods filled my senses. Xen's breath tickled the back of my neck; his weight was half on top of me, his hand covering mine in front of me. His presence was reassuring, and his embrace was protective but not suffocating. His touch didn't make me uneasy or prick me with discomfort. His face rested on my shoulder, and I could feel the heat of his bare skin pressing against mine. A heavy, unnamed emotion swelled in my heart, and I let out a contented sigh, feeling lighter and more myself than ever before. Tears welled up in the corners of my eyes as memories flooded back—how I had met him, why I had agreed to marry him, and my desire to leave this island. But now, I was torn in two.

There was the lonely princess who had nothing to her name and who could have left it all behind in a wild hunt to find her mother, her only hope for significance and perhaps love. And then there was the woman I had become without my memories, shaped by Xen's tenderness and care. The woman who could share passionate nights with her husband without feeling an ounce of loneliness Why were these memories resurfacing? Why couldn't Crescent Luna remain oblivious?

How could I choose between my lifelong hope of finding my mother, the hope that had sustained me for so long, and the man who looked at me as if I were the centre of his world? I sniffled, overwhelmed by the conflicting emotions, tears streaming down my face.

"Rose," Xen mumbled sleepily, and I let out a small gasp. He pulled away from me, and a sense of coldness washed over me.

"Rose, are you crying?" His touch reached my shoulder, and he turned me towards him. I quickly wiped away the tears.

"Did I hurt you? Did you have a nightmare? Or did I..." He recoiled in alarm, his eyes frantically assessing me.

"No, I'm fine." I tried to reach out to him, but he moved away, shaking his head. "I was too much, wasn't I? I triggered it." He attempted to move.

"No, please." I choked on a sob, my voice thick and heavy.

"You're crying," he said, turning away, attempting to slide off the bed in panic. I wrapped my arms around him from behind, resting my cheek against his shoulder blade. He touched my hand.

"What is it?" His voice was filled with confusion and conflict.

"I'm just..." Tears continued to fall from my eyes, dampening his skin.

"I'm happy." A small sob escaped me. I couldn't hold back any longer. I was happy, realising that I felt so full and satisfied, even remembering what life was like before. I couldn't help but feel free from sorrow and the heaviness that had burdened my heart for as long as I could remember. "I don't know how..." I sniffled. "I don't know how to handle it. I'm happy that you're with me. I'm happy that despite everything that went wrong, you've always been right by my side."

"Rose," his voice reassured me as he grabbed my hand and turned to embrace me. His eyes brimmed with tenderness.

"It's overwhelming," I sniffled. "Will you hold me?"

He chuckled and quickly gathered me in his arms. "Oh, Rose."

I buried my face in his neck, holding on to him while he stroked the back of my head, his hand running through my hair. His other hand rested on my back, keeping me close. I clenched my hand against his back, revelling in his warmth; every fibre of my being was flushed with his heat. It could have been from sunrise to sunset, and I wouldn't have known. Finally, I felt anchored. I slid away from him, suddenly aware of our nakedness, pressing together. My cheeks flushed, and I quickly gathered the sheet to cover myself.

Xen kissed my cheeks, and I felt them aflame. He smiled. "I love it when you blush." His nose skimmed from my temple to my cheeks, and I let out a sigh, leaning into his touch. He brushed away the remaining tears from my face, his hand gentle against my skin. I looked at him, and he brushed away the hair from my shoulder.

"I've hurt you," he said with a hint of remorse.

"No, you haven't..."

"No, look at this." He brushed his fingers over a spot on my shoulder, and I realised it stung a little. I glanced down and saw red bite marks from where he had bitten me a few times. "And here." His hand travelled down my back, brushing my hair away. I touched the scratches left by his claws, probably when he tore my robes. I hadn't realised they were there until he pointed them out. They stung, but they didn't hurt.

"It's fine," I assured him.

I curled my hand around him and squeezed.

"I lost control. This won't happen."

"Shh," I covered his mouth, hating the remorse in his eyes and his belief that he was responsible for everything. These marks were not meant to hurt me; they happened in the heat of the moment. "I'm fine. I'm better than I've ever felt." I caressed his face. He met my eyes, searching for the reassurance he needed, and for the first time, his probing didn't feel invasive. I felt open and free.

"Are you sure?" he asked once more, his hand touching my shoulder.

I nodded.

He kissed my forehead and then my shoulder.