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One minute, Char was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about how much he wanted to make love to the girl cuddled up to him, and the next minute, he was waking up, tangled up with her.
He didn’t mind that at all.
Iris was warm and soft in his arms. Her distinctive smell filled his senses, subtle and difficult to describe. It wasn’t floral or fruity; it was just her, and it was unique. Like her.
He brushed her hair behind her ear to better see her sleeping face. She looked so peaceful, so content. No worry lines between her eyebrows; no tension in the muscles around her eyes or lips.
He smiled and nuzzled into her hair, breathing in her scent and sighing. Her flinching away from his touch last night had been a reflex, not a conscious repulsion. She’d wanted him to hold her. She’d wanted him to stay with her. She felt safe with him.
She was safe with him. He’d do anything for her.
“Mm…”
She sighed and stirred. Her arms tightened around him. He kissed the top of her head, eager to see her sleepy brown eyes opening and meeting his. He could already picture her shy smile.
“Good morning, Iris.”
Her entire body stiffened.
She shoved him away and bolted out of bed before he could react, backing against the wall with no recognition in her wide, frightened eyes. She was breathing hard, clutching the collar of her robe closed, and Char stared at her, stunned.
“Iris,” he called, keeping his voice soft and his movements slow as he sat up in bed. “Iris, it’s me. Char. You’re safe.”
Her eyes met his. He saw a swirl of complicated emotions pass through them, too fast for him to pick one out, and then she turned toward the wall and put her face in her hands, crying. Her shoulders shook; the sound of her wild sobs wrenched at Char’s heart. He was on his feet and at her side without a thought, turning her back to him and pulling her into an embrace.
“I won’t hurt you, Iris. Nobody will ever hurt you again.”
She didn’t respond, except to cry harder. He held her close, resting his head on hers and wishing he could do more for her now—wishing he could have done more for her before. Because there was only one reason she would react this way to a simple morning greeting.
He could see those frigid blue eyes, that smug smirk. Micah touching her, holding her close atop his horse, whispering in her ear—probably threatening the orphans and reminding her of the punishment he had in store for her.
And then the fear on Iris' face turning to hopelessness as they rode away.
Char wished he could revive Micah and kill him again.
The door opened behind him. “Char? Is everything—”
He looked back at Rath and shook his head. Rath nodded and left.
It was many long minutes until Iris’ heart-rending sobs faded to choked whimpers. Char held her close and stroked her hair, not speaking, just letting her tremble in his arms. He would have picked her up and taken her back to bed if he hadn't been worried about scaring her more, but he waited, wondering when he should move.
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“B-but… It w-wasn’t you…”
“It’s okay, Iris. I know.”
She shook her head and pulled free, keeping her face downcast. “I-I should c-clean up.”
He hesitated, and then he followed her into the bathroom, sensing she shouldn’t be alone. She didn’t rebuke him. She washed her face, and he leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the opposite wall, fuming.
He wished he could have made Micah suffer more. Suffer longer. It had been over far too soon for that man, especially since Iris was still suffering, still in pain. And would be for a while.
“Char?”
“Yes?”
She stood in front of him with red, puffy eyes. He uncrossed his arms and reached out to her, but his hand froze before he touched her. She didn’t flinch away, and he moved it the last few inches to tuck a damp lock of hair behind her ear.
She stepped toward him and hugged him, resting her cheek on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her to complete the embrace.
“Can I… Can I tell you?”
Char clenched his jaw. He wanted to say ‘no,’ but she needed to talk about it and he needed to hear it.
“Yeah.”
She swallowed. Char felt the motion, and he felt her taking a deep, shuddering breath.
“At the church, he… He ordered his men to search the church, but I told him you and Rath were gone, and I told him I’d go with him if he left the orphans alone. He said… He said if he found out I lied, he would come back and kill them himself. So when he… When he asked me how my magic had been growing, I told him. I told him about leaving my body and about the past bearers teaching him. I couldn’t risk him hurting them.”
Her faltering words stopped with a choking sound. Char rubbed her back.
“It’s okay, Iris. You did what you had to do.”
And he’d done what he had to do: hide and watch her surrender herself to Micah.
He gritted his teeth.
“It’s okay, Iris.”
She took another deep breath. “When we got to the castle… He took me to his study right away. He added something to the potion so I couldn’t leave and I couldn’t scream, and I don’t… I don’t know how long it lasted. I don’t remember it ending. I just remember…” She swallowed again. “I just remember waking up in his bed.”
This was it. Char steeled himself.
“He woke me up. He started… kissing me, and… touching me, and he… He told me he might let me recover first if I… if I let him summon the fairies. He said he’d only kill one of them. But I-I didn’t know how I was shielding them, a-and I t-told him that, and even if I knew…”
She choked again. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face in Char’s chest, and he wished once again he could have protected her, done something to stop it, gotten there sooner—anything to keep her from experiencing that.
But he couldn’t turn back time.
“You don’t have to go on,” he told her, struggling to keep the edge of anger out of his voice.
“I begged him not to do it,” she whispered. “He laughed at me.”
“Iris.” Char kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tight. He remembered Micah bragging about that, gloating about how she’d begged him, and he wished he’d twisted the sword after he stabbed the mage in the groin. A quick beheading was too good for the man.
“I had a dream,” she continued in a small voice. “A dream before he woke me up. I saw… I saw his master rape my mother.”
Char’s gut twisted.
“She was his maid, and she was just a teenager. That’s why she stole the amulet. To get back at him for what he’d done to her.”
“Iris…”
“And when Micah was talking to me afterwards, when he said it wouldn’t hurt next time if I did as he said, I got so angry.”
That was it. That was the impetus for her marching into that throne room to face Micah and her fears. Not that he had raped her, but that he’d promised to continue raping her.
Char couldn’t hold her tight enough. The anger surging through him had no outlet.
“He was losing the war on purpose.” She looked up at Char, her voice strengthening. Tears still shimmered at the edges of her lower eyelids. “He was holding back his magic.”
“He was holding back?” Char asked, incredulous.
She nodded. “He wanted the dragons to attack the capital. He was going to kill the king during battle so it would look like the dragons did it, and then he was going to win the battle and take the throne and… and make me his queen.”
Char sucked in a sharp breath.
That word struck a nerve.
He knew what Micah had meant by it. Iris would have held the title of queen on the surface while remaining his prisoner, nothing more than a valuable piece of property, his to abuse as he saw fit. It was all wrong, and it would have angered Char regardless, but that word.
That was the word Char’s father had used every day to describe his mother. That was the reason his father hadn’t allowed Char and Rath to show even a hint of disrespect to his wife. It hadn’t been a pet name or a cute joke. It was who she was to him. To him, she had meant everything. She had been the love of his life, his queen, and both then and now, she deserved to be loved and treated with the utmost care.
That was what Iris meant to Char.
He took a slow, deep breath and let it out. An unexpected clarity and calm settled over him. “He was insane, but he had good taste.”
Iris blushed. Her eyes widened, flecks of gold shining against their dark, damp background.
Char could have looked into those eyes forever.
“Iris.” He gave her a light kiss. “You could never be his queen, because you’re already mine.”
Her blush deepened. “Char…”
“I wanted to wait and do this properly, but…” He turned them away from the counter and stepped back enough to drop to one knee in front of her. She gasped, her brown eyes widening even more. He took her left hand and kissed her ring finger.
“Iris, will you marry me?”
Her other hand flew to her mouth. The tears slid down her cheeks again. She nodded, and he grinned and stood, pulling her close.
“Move your hand, Iris.”
He gave her a kiss, starting soft and gentle, deepening and intensifying as she responded. His heart was too full for short and sweet, and judging by her arms wrapping around his neck and her hands tangling in his hair, she wanted more, too. He hesitated only a breath before he scooped her up and set her on the counter, sliding his palms down the backs of her bare thighs to her knees and then moving his hands to her back, pressing her toward the edge of the counter. She didn’t flinch or pull away from him. His kisses traveled down her neck, and she gasped again.
“He… tried to imitate you… the way he kissed me and touched me… but it wasn’t the same.”
Char smirked against her skin. “Of course not. He didn’t know how to treat you right.”
She tilted her head to the side, and Char covered her in kisses from her jaw to her collarbone. There was no chain from an amulet in his way, no resistance from her. Just a delicious moan spilling from her lips. He returned to her face to kiss away the newest tears, the happy tears, and her eyes were dark with longing, the gold polished and sensual, as inviting as a will-o’-the-wisp luring a traveler into an enchanted forest. He kissed a line from the corner of her eye to the corner of her lips, and another soft moan slipped free when he teased her with a swipe of his tongue.
“We should go have breakfast,” he breathed, and then he kissed her again. “Rath and I still need to find a way out of here.” Another kiss. “And then I’m taking you to the first church I see.”
There was the shy smile he wanted to see.
She averted her eyes from his and looked down at the bathrobe she wore. “I can’t let Rath see me in this.”
Char caught her chin in his fingers, tilting her face up to his again. “Why not?” He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re spoken for.”
Her cheeks were the perfect shade of red. “I guess I am.”
“The bigger problem is what you’ll wear when we leave. I don’t mind my brother seeing you in this, but it isn’t great for travel.” He kissed her forehead, reluctant to stop.
She giggled. “I’m sure the fairies will come up with something. Go have breakfast. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
One more kiss on the lips, and then he lifted her off the counter and set her feet on the floor. Her face still bore signs of crying, but her smile was radiant. He tore himself away from her, reassured she was in a better emotional place than she had been a few minutes ago, heart swelling until he thought it might burst out of his chest.
Micah had tried to ruin her and poison their relationship, but it hadn’t worked.
She’d said yes.6Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXKw8oyvNxR
