By the time Willow finds me, the sky is black and the branches of the trees outside my balcony cave inward like an umbrella. The rain came down hard about an hour ago, pelting on the leaves and weighing them down. I’d been tempted to go inside, but the drops that did land on me felt nice on my skin and cooled the burn inside me.
The rain has stopped, and now the moon is a round chip in the sky, beaming down on me. There’s a chill in the air, I’m shirtless, and my hands and feet are cold, but I have no desire to go back into the room and light a fire.
After the last couple of days, I’d rather stay out here and freeze—feel something just so I can remember life’s precious moments. If I sink too deep without feeling, I may never come back up for air, so this is where I need to be. On the ice-cold balcony, staring at the ocean and moon.
“I can feel you,” I say after taking a pull from my bloom.
Willow steps out, her bare heels landing on the damp marble. She’s changed clothes. A fresh ivory gown. Her hair swims down her back. She immediately wraps her arms around herself when she realizes how cold it is.
“How long have you been out here?” she asks.
“Since I came back in.”
“Oh. I came in here to look for you but didn’t see you. Guess you were out here the whole time.”
“You guessed right.” I heard her come in. heard her call my name. As badly as I wanted her, I didn’t want her to see my anger. Because that’s what I was after Della’s send off. Angry.
I put out my bloom, and her eyes drop to the ashtray on the side table next to me. It’s full of stunted blooms, and I’m ashamed to say many of them are from today.
Willow remains standing, shivering while eyeing me. Sighing, I get out of my chair and wrap an arm around her, leading her inside.
I shut the balcony door and draw the curtains closed while she walks to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. The lamp on the nightstand illuminates one half of her face.
I move to the fireplace, tossing in a few logs and finding the matchbook on the stand next to it. I light the match, toss it inside, and the fire crackles to life.
I stand again, looking at her as she looks at me. I want to sit next to her, but I can’t. I’ve thought about it all on the balcony—how I want her to stay with me, how I want a life with her…but how can I have any of that when she’d constantly be at risk? Her life is quite literally in my hands, and I want to protect her, I do, but I can’t be with her at all times—it’s impossible as a monarch—and I saw it with Della. A few days away from her, and now she’s gone. If I’d been here, she never would’ve died, and if the same happens to Willow…fuck. I don’t know what I’d do to myself.
So, I don’t sit with her. Instead, I walk to the closet, taking out a shirt and pulling it over my head.
“I’m not going to leave you alone,” she says when I step out of the closet.
I look her over, lowering my mind’s wall just a bit to hear what she’s thinking.
No one trusts him alone. He’ll hurt himself. I have to stay with him.
“I will not hurt myself,” I snap, and her brows dip. “Besides, it’s better to leave me alone than to sit there staring at me with pity in your eyes.”
“I don’t pity you,” she counters.
“Please. Everyone pities me. It’s why they all tolerate me. I’ll always be that sad boy who was ripped away from his mother and tormented by his father. Didn’t you get the memo?”
“They tolerate you because they love you. And I don’t know why you’re taking this anger about your mother and your father out on me all of a sudden.”
I turn my back to her, facing the balcony doors. “I’ll be fine, Willow. I don’t need you checking on me like I’m a child. I just need a moment to think.”
“Think about what, exactly?”
I drop my head. “Please, Willow. I don’t want to play your game of questions right now.”
“Well, I have to ask you, Caz, because you’re blocking me out. I don’t get why you’re doing it, but I want to understand.”
“Understand what?” I snap, whirling around to face her. Her eyes stretch, alarmed by my anger, but she blinks it away. “There is nothing to understand. A woman is dead because of me. That’s it. And Decius may be wrapped up and put away for now, but we don’t know how long that’ll last. We don’t know if Korah will go back to Earth, abandon all of this, and leave Decius out there. She’s done it before. Why wouldn’t she do it again? We don’t know a damn thing of what’s to come or what will happen.”
“I get that,” Willow replies, much calmer than I anticipated. “But being angry with me and avoiding me won’t help you, and you know it.”
“I never said I was angry with you,” I mutter.
“You don’t have to say it for me to see it.” She climbs off the bed and moves across the room to me. “If me being here and our Cold Tether is causing you to resent me, then I can leave. The portal is right there. I still remember the chant. I can say it and I can go.”
“Love of Vakeeli, I never said that.”
“I know you didn’t, but I can sense it, Caz. All of what you’ve been through is because of our Cold Tether, and I know the bottom end of it sucks because sometimes it sucks to me too. But you and I can both agree I was safer on Earth, and you were safer here without me. When we were apart, no one died. Everyone was fine.”
I grasp her face between my fingers before she can step away, forcing her eyes on mine. “Willow, how do you not get it by now? I want you more than the air I breathe. I want you in this life, and the next, and whatever life comes after this, but all of these Cold Tether issues is new territory for me, and if I lose you in this lifetime, I’ll kill myself. I know I will. And I’m struggling with that—coping with the idea of your loss, but also wanting you in my life every single day and night. You don’t think I want to wake up to those beautiful brown eyes of yours every morning? To kiss your lips until they’re raw every night? I want all of that and more, but it’s fucking terrifying to have that here, Willow. I know I said I want you here with me, that I would love for you to make a life in Vakeeli, but losing Della made me realize this isn’t a game and that I need to get my ego in check. I won’t always win, and I can’t fathom another loss.”
Her eyes are glassy, and my vision has blurred, but I continue holding her gaze. When she blinks, tears slide down her cheeks. I stroke them away with the pads of my thumbs.
“No one has ever spoken to me that way,” she whispers.
I tip my head back a bit. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” Her head shakes, and she brings her arms up to lace them around the back of my neck. “You said everything right.” Her lips press to mine, warm and sweet with wine, and I sigh, drowning in her touch, her kiss…all of her. I stumble toward the bed and collapse when the backs of her knees hit the edge.
“I’m terrified,” I confess on her lips. “I’m scared to lose you.”
“I know. But you won’t.”
“You don’t know that. This world is fucked up.”
Her lips find my cheek, and she places a tender kiss on the apple of it. “We’re all a little fucked up. I can deal.”
She shifts beneath me, adjusting herself enough for me to wedge between her legs. I thrust against her, and all that anger, fear, and pain morphs into something else entirely. It is true when they say love is the most powerful thing—more powerful than any emotion your body can conjure.
She is my safe haven. She is love.
I pull off my shirt and lower my joggers, mounting the bed as she takes off her panties. I cage her head between my arms and lower my chest to hers, and as I thrust inside her, I expel a trapped breath. She’s so warm and wet. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here.
“I can leave if you want me to,” she breathes.
“No.” I draw my hips back and propel them forward again. Her lips part, and I lower my hands, entangling our fingers.
“Should I stay?” she whispers.
“Yes,” I groan into the crook of her neck. “I want you forever and ever. You make me whole. You center me. I’m scared, but I can’t let this go. I love you.”
She wraps her legs around my waist, guiding me deeper, and I kiss the crook of her neck, working my way up until my lips are on hers. All that anger I felt before tapers off. The pain still lingers, but here she is, taking some of it away. My mate. My beautiful, perfect mate.
I clutch her hands and unfurl a groan, my dick throbbing inside her as I come. She sighs when my head falls on her chest, then buries her fingers in my hair, stroking my scalp.
We lie here for some time, the moon beaming through a slit in the curtains and shining down on us. I pull out and look down at my glistening dick now coated with both of us and blow out a satisfied breath as I lie beside her. I bring her closer, nuzzling my nose on one of her breasts and inhaling her feminine scent.
She’s mine. All mine.
