My pulse quickens as I remember every moment of that stolen kiss. It wasn’t mine to take, not when we were in the past.
“Did you get to see your father?” Hector asks after a moment.
I nod and tell Hector everything about my visit with my father. “So, you, see,” I say as I finish. “I am Bloodstone too. Just as you said.”
Hector studies me, his gaze intense, as if trying to undercover every little secret I harbor. “Does that make you angry?”
“Not anymore.”
He falls silent. Probably so he can process my words. Surely, he can see the difference in me now, the willingness to acknowledge the part of me I couldn’t accept before.
“Tell me what happened while I was away?” I ask, not wanting our conversation to end yet. Maybe never.
He rolls to his back and stares up at the ceiling for several long breaths before speaking. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” I say, hoping he’ll fill in all the missing gaps.
“We went to war against the Malachites.”
The bed creaks as I gasp and sit up. “You are at war with the Malachites too?”
“I was until I sent five legions to engage them. They withdrew their troops from Bloodstone territory and ran away.”
“So…” I shake my head. “What will happen with them?”
“I will leave them alone as long as they stay out of territory that doesn’t belong to them.”
So, he doesn’t want to conquer them? Rule them?
“What else happened while I was away?”
“This.” He brings my hand to rest against his chest. “This ache, this burning, this longing.”
An exhale escapes me as I press in, feeling his heart throbbing beneath my fingers. “I knew you felt it too.”
“How could I not, Sol.” Sincerity echoes from his words, a rawness he rarely offers. “You are my wife. You belong with me. Not stuck in the past.”
“I had to—”
He brings his hand to my lips, silencing my words. “I know. Trust me, I know. My frustration isn’t that you needed to renew, but that you left the way you did. And I…” He swallows and starts over. “I didn’t know if you were ever coming back to me. That uncertainty…it’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”
“I’m so sorry, Hector.”
Air rushes between us as he rolls away again, lying flat to stare up at the ceiling. “I know that you are. I feel your remorse.”
“And I feel your pain.” I bridge the gap between us and lay my head against his chest. He allows it. He even brings his hand to the small of my back, keeping me against him.
We stay like that, neither of us speaking, neither of us pulling away. It’s exactly what my heart has needed. This connection. This mending.
I allow it to blanket me as I fall asleep in his arms.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Afierce wind beating against the linen tent wakes me the following morning. I sigh and look at the empty space next to me. Hector and his men have already left. I feel it deep in my soul.
A groan escapes me as I haul myself out of the bed, wash my face, and run a brush through my long black hair. Last night wasalmosteverything I needed. Hopefully, he feels the same way.
I walk to the tent flap and peer outside, looking around the camp. Guards patrol the perimeter in groups of four, and older men and women move about the camp, keep fires lit, and sharpen weapons.
