“Yes, Lord Aharis!” came the cry.
And then, when Ru was certain he was about to pull her into an unwanted embrace, Taryel lifted his hand from her waist and settled it gently on her shoulder. Leaning down, he murmured in her ear. “You’re safe, Ru. Breathe.”
She looked up at him, at those eyes she knew like the depths of her own soul. The sounds of the party faded, the music and laughter, until she was alone with him in the darkness. He smelled familiar, like a winter forest. Something caught at Ru’s heart, a memory, a voice in the dark. A stranger draping a cloak over her naked shoulders in the Shattered City. And glancing up at the man at her side, she saw neither the Destroyer nor Taryel.
Instead, she found herself gazing into the clear grey eyes of the man she had always known.
You’re safe.
Then Taryel spoke louder so everyone gathered could hear. His tone was jovial, but Ru caught an undercurrent of granite. “My lady is tired and needs a moment to rest. Forgive us for taking our leave.” He bowed deeply and swept Ru away from the crowd without another word.
She allowed him to steer her away from the music, the laughter, the lights, and toward a quieter part of the garden. Her heart was a rapid staccato as they walked in silence. Even the small distance between them was a strained ache.
Ru felt desperately, all at once, that she’d been wasting time. Because as they walked together, snow crunching under feet, Ru realized that she trusted him. That somehow, maybe, she always had. He wasn’t Fen, this man at her side, but… he was not the monster she had believed him to be.
In the end, it didn’t matter if he was Fen or Taryel — he was the man she loved.
CHAPTER 25
They came at last to a small gazebo at the far end of the courtyard. It was surrounded by tall hedges, with a stone path leading up to it. Music and laughter drifted through the chill night, but here it was muffled, like a memory or a dream. Lamps and candles burned at strategic places on the gazebo floor and along its low balcony.
“I think about it often,” Taryel said without preamble. His gaze was far away, his brows drawn together. “When I wake, or in a moment of joy cut short. I dream of it almost every night. And when I’m nearing sleep, or hungry, or… any time my walls come down, I remember how it felt.”
There was no reason to ask what he meant. It was the same for her. The day the artifact called, and she answered. The day she became Destroyer.
“Even in a thousand years,” he said, turning his gaze to her, “the pain hasn’t faded. I remember what the air smelled like that morning. There was a heavy fog, and I was hungry. I hadn’t eaten breakfast yet. I remember hearing the sounds of the market being set up, the clatter of wheels on cobblestones, shouts, laughter. There was a celebration planned for the king’sbirthday. The whole city was alive with so much vibrancy, and I…” he bowed his head, his fingers tightening around Ru’s.
“You don’t have to do this,” Ru said. “You don’t have to relive everything just to prove something. I understand.”
His gaze, when it met hers again, was tortured. “You don’t, Ru. This was my city. Myhome. We lived on a country estate, but I spent my childhood running up and down those streets. My mother, when I was very little, took me to one of the only bookshops in Navenie, a cramped place that reeked of leather and dust, and from the street outside you could see the ocean. I had cousins in the city. Friends and colleagues. And Ru, the Destruction… it reached beyond the city walls. Entire farms, villages… my own home. It was as if they never existed.”
He would not meet her eyes again, but she reached up to him, brushing a thumb across his jaw, curving her fingers around the back of his neck. There was nothing she could say to comfort him.
She knew what he had done. She had thought about it, from the distance of academia and all the centuries that stretched between her life and the Destruction. But this was the first time since the proclamation in the throne room that he had spoken about it in detail. Ru’s own pain was great, but Taryel had lost everything. And he had only himself to blame.
Ru could not fathom his torment.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t like talking about it. But… I wanted you to understand. Before everything goes to shit, in case we don’t…” he swallowed. “I lied about who I was, kept my past from you, because I’m ashamed. You deserve better than this. Better than a broken, centuries-old killer. Far better than a man with a cursed heart.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ru murmured. “We’re made for each other.” The words weren’t planned. She bit her lip immediatelyin the wake of speaking — she hadn’t meant to give herself away. But time was running short.
Taryel paused, studying her with an expression of something like hope. “You should have run away with me when you had the option.”
“I never had the option,” Ru bit out. “They would have hurt people until I gave in. They’re fanatics. Lady Bellenet’s power is—” she shuddered, not wanting to verbalize it.
“I know,” Taryel said. “I wish there was something I…” He reached for her, pulling her close, her cheek against his chest. “We will think of something,” he murmured into her hair. “We’ll find a way to stop this. I don’t have faith in many things, but I have faith in you.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” Ru said, fingers digging into the back of his jacket, eyes closed tight against the night. He smelled as he always had: of cold mountain air and comfort. Ru realized that she was in immediate danger of crumbling. “Time’s running out, and I’m no closer to learning how to stop her. What if thereisno way? And there’s no telling how many people she aims to change, to turn into Children…”
She closed her eyes tight, willing herself not to cry. It was too easy in his arms. Too easy to fold.
Taryel put a thumb under her chin, lifting her face so that she was gazing up at him.
“You are Ruellian Delara,” he said. “Archaeologist. Keeper of my heart. Destroyer. If anyone can find an answer—”
Ru interrupted him with a kiss.
She stood on tiptoe, burying her fingers in his hair. He returned the kiss with a soft groan. She needed this. To give in, to let someone else take charge, to let go of control, and lean into trust.
