Chapter 69

I don't know if last night was for him or me, but I slept better and woke up in his arms—warm and better, without an aching heart like the past few days. I still haven't comprehended this ache that seems to be there whenever he is not near. Will it always be like this?

He, too, seems to be fine as he readies himself for another council meeting. The colour returns to his face; the worry is still there, but the light is not dimmed. When he opens his eyes, I am there, watching him. A little smile grazes his lips, and it creates a different sort of ache in my heart as it flutters. But yes, no words are spoken. When he opens the door to leave, I huff silently, folding my arms over my chest and leaning against the side of the pole.

At least this morning, he should have said something. Even a little "I will see you in the evening" would have been good. What does he expect me to do? Wait for him all day? I watch from the corner of my eye as he stops, closes the door back up, and moves towards me. I look away.

He holds my chin and pulls my face back to look at him.

"What?" I ask nonchalantly.

"You are thinking too loudly," he says.

"What?" I straighten myself, a small smile playing on his lips. The nerve of this man

He moves his hand to hold my face gently, and I refuse to acknowledge how good it feels to see his arm around me and the cold that sweeps into my bones without him melting away.

"I thought you were still upset," I said.

"I tried my best, but you seem to melt my anger with one huff and one movement." He comes closer, his cinnamon-woody scent wafting over me, and I inhale as he kisses my forehead. I finally cave in and wrap my arms around him and his arm around me, and I melt against him. My heart calms down; embracing him like this seems more intimate.

"I missed you," I murmured.

Oh, Rose," he says, tightening his arms around me. "I am still holding a grudge," he says.

"Really?" I look up at him; he meets my eyes and nods.

"That's not fair."

"Unfair is you not telling me your troubles."

"You didn't tell me anything either yesterday."

"Yesterday," he agrees.

I put my head back on his chest; somehow it is easier to talk with him like this. It's much easier to talk about things I'd rather not talk about.

"You are punishing me; that is it."

"No, for a moment, I want you to know what I feel when you tell me what is troubling you." His voice is low, a whispered lure that calms my heart and takes it away from the panic that seizes it often when I think of my past. It is all gone and done, and yet it still has a hold over me.

"Those are troubles of the past, things that have already been done, and no one can do anything about them. No magic Crescent Alpha can take them away," I say wistfully, sighing. The memories come back too, don't they?

"No, I can't take them away, solve them, or heal the scars that are left behind, but you can share," he says.

"Why must I?"

"So you are not alone. I will be with you whenever it hurts. I will make your past mine, as you have made me yours."

"I don't think I can," I admit. I feel myself sighing, and I think,

 is it. I have broken the line of his patience.

"I will wait," he says.

Of course he will. He always will, and I... the warm expansion in my heart cannot define the feeling I have in this moment. It is more than gratitude; it is different from gratitude.

***

*The faeries are renowned for their elusive nature. Faeries possessed an extraordinary affinity for magic, unrivalled tempers, and an irresistible allure akin to mermaids and sirens. Unlike their aquatic counterparts, however, faeries were predatory creatures driven by a primal instinct to survive. Their magical abilities were unparalleled, capable of achieving the unimaginable, but thier magic always comes with a price.*

I look up from the book, Elder Hilda's book, which gives all the necessary information on the Immora Islands. However, the faeries seem to be the only ones who didn't get much information. The author keeps saying it's impossible to meet one; if you manage it, hardly anyone can speak of it. And the second thing it mentions is that they eat birds or are partial to them. An odd thing to mention.

I sigh, closing the book and resting my head on the window frame.

It has been fifteen days since we came to this village. I gaze at the moonless night sky, shaking my head. Time is passing by, and with that, the day of my choice is coming closer. I have remained silent about my memories.

I realise that even though I agreed to tell him in my own way, a part of me wants to keep it from him forever. He is the most beautiful part of me. I want it to be untouched by my past. How do I tell him? There is nothing to tell. My past is devoid of all the warmth that I have come to know with him. Though he returned to being himself after that day, he still insists on many things like before. Some for my safety, and some for my health. Though I did get meat back on my dinner table, who knew he could be that petty? He knows I like meat.

He still sits in front of me until I drink the medicine, eat the food, and rest properly. I still wander around a few times, helping Elder Hilda around the village. With no leads to find the culprit or any signs of true fairies, Xen insists that we stay here for a while and wait for the culprit to show up. The search for the children, however, is still ongoing.

I recognise a few faces here, but I still have to learn how to hold a conversation with someone naturally. I still wake up startled from my dreams, mostly consisting of dark oak woods and hazy faces I have never known. At least I don't know if it is a memory coming back or some dream mixed with the memory. The unknown dreams are more terrifying. I don't think I was ever in the oak woods here. I even told Xen that he should take me there once, but he refused. Whenever I wake up crying, he always embraces me and holds me until I calm down and fall asleep.

The medicine seems to work, though. I have fewer headaches these days, and my memories are clearer. I don't want to remember it. It would have been better if I had just forever forgotten it.

The searching sound of the chair pulls me out of my thoughts. Xen stands up from the desk, and our eyes meet for a moment in the glow of the oil lamp.

"Are you not sleeping?" he asks.

I shake my head. I don't feel like it today. I have been too restless these days and in my dreams. I'd rather avoid them.

I look away, and suddenly the room becomes dark. I whip my head towards him to see him moving in the darkness. He extinguishes the lamps.

"What are you doing? I told you—ah!"

Xen's vice-like grip comes around me, and a little startled gasp leaves my lips as he picks me up.

"I am not a child," I protest as he puts me down on the bed and pulls the blanket over me.

"You have to stop manhandling me," I say in the darkness, my protest silent as I feel his soft lips on my forehead. My heart thunders in my chest at his proximity. He pushes me gently onto the bed. I cannot fight against him. Where is my willpower when he is near me? Why do I always cave in?

He settles on his side of the bed, and he pulls me into his arms. I roll over and rest my head on his chest. I realise it is the most comfortable place for me. He shifts, and his other arm comes around while the other rests on the back of my head. I am tucked under his chin.

"What were you reading about?" he asks.

"Faeries."

"What did you find?"

"Nothing much, except they are mysterious, and no one truly knows anything about them. It makes me question my sanity to pick up a book," I say.

"You don't like reading."

"It is tedious. I was never good at it," I yawned.

"Sleep. Your mind is clearly exhausted," he teases.

"Aye! Are you saying I am daf--" I am silenced with a kiss.