“Your first meeting with Orion. And I saw a battle—it seemed from long ago—where you were all fighting together.”
“Have you seen me sleeping with others?”
She shook her head, admitting, “But I saw you tortured in that brothel.”
His gaze slid away. “Once I was freed, I chose to be there.”
She eased closer to him. “You couldn’t imagine life getting better, because for so long it hadn’t. Orion has my loyalty just for showing you a new future.”
“But the past can never be undone, and mine is sordid. I’m tainted in more ways than one.” He drank deeply. “I bet you’ve never been with a whore before.”
Unable to stop herself, she laid one hand on his strong face. “That’s not you anymore.” I’m falling for you. I want to be with you always. “You’re a different male.”
“Different.” He gave a humorless laugh. “How many times can a male be different in one lifetime, Josephine? I’d like to get to a place where I never have to change again.” He peered at her, as if saying more than just the surface words.
She’d realized he was ready for her; now he’d just confirmed it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I kept waiting for the right time.”
He exhaled. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just the opposite; you saw my past and didn’t leave. And you didn’t pity me.” As if just registering these facts, he grasped her nape. “Gods, that means a lot to me.”
“You won’t get rid of me that easily, Rune Darklight. And how could I ever pity a male like you, my archer?” She could tell he liked that.
“I’m relieved you know. I would’ve confessed all this to you eventually.”
Before they made love? Before they went forward? “I’ll tell you when it happens again.”
He nodded, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “This is supposed to be a celebration.” He pulled her down on the blanket with him. “Gaze, woman.”
Little by little, his tension dwindled, and their usual companionable ease settled over them. In silence, they watched as full night fell and the moon climbed higher—though she could have sworn Rune was looking at her more often than the sky.
All the times in the past when she’d turned her questioning gaze to the stars, she’d been alone.
No longer.
He drew her closer. The sky above was vast and unknowable, rounded over them like a shield. She sighed, “The world is so big. . . .”
FIFTY-TWO
Rune turned on his side, taking in Josephine’s sweet profile.
His gaze flickered over her lips, nose, cheekbones, and eyelashes. Stars reflected in her eyes as she stared up in awe, and he felt a tugging in his chest. This world’s actually so very small, love.
He could show her thousands of worlds. They’d need lifetimes to see them all.
He drank more brew. He’d been with her for the merest blink of an eye, yet now he was going to travel? Live a life of leisure? He had wars to wage, and secrets to uncover.
Maybe after the Accession . . .
His brows drew together as he watched her. She wasn’t just gazing at the stars—she seemed to be awaiting something. Almost as if she were listening.
“I want to know why stargazing is your favorite thing,” he said.
“Whenever I stare at them, I feel like I might be on the verge of remembering my past.”
“Do you think your parents are still alive?”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe my mother is. I have these vague impressions of fire and chaos. Like there was a natural disaster or something. I’ve never had an impression of my father.”
“Your mother could’ve traced away from a natural disaster, no?” Unless she’d never been away from her home.
“I don’t even know if those scenes are dreams or my imagination or part of my memories.” She sipped her flask. “I’ve wanted to know my parents so badly and for so long I could be making stuff up.”
For so long? Says the twenty-five-year-old.
At least Rune could name his parents. “Is that why you want a bond so much? The absence of a family?” Surely recovering Thad for her would help fill that need—and alleviate some of the pressure she’d been putting on Rune.
“No, it’s more than that. When I hang out in shells, I get to experience other lives. One time I ghosted into a bride on her wedding night. Her groom ended up being a dream man who gazed at her like she was everything. He promised her he’d die for her—and I believed him.” She turned on her side as well, facing Rune. “This man was looking me in the eyes and telling me these things. I know, not really me, but I was still staggered. Other people take being cherished for granted. But if you’ve never had it and then you get a hit, you need it.”
Dream man. Everything. Promises. Cherishing.
Damn, no pressure there, Josephine. She’d taken a wedding—an event engineered to be ideal—and she’d built a template for her love life.
Not for the first time, Rune recognized he wasn’t the man to give Josephine her dreams. He tried to make light. “The combat-boot-wearing blood-drinker wants romance.”
“If I had that bond, things in my life would get . . . fixed.”
“Like what?”
“I have a fear as strong as your phobia about heights.” She nibbled her bottom lip. “I’m afraid I’ll just float away. Especially if I sleep-ghost.”
“Sleep-ghost? Like sleepwalking?”