Was Marcellious crying?
“You are an honorable man, Roman. I hold great respect for you. I always knew that you were a better man than me. All I wanted out of life were what most men long for—a good wife, a family, and a place to call home. I ended up with nothing. I became a terrible man who lusted for power.” Marcellious sobbed. “You are the kindest, strongest man I have ever met. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me and accept me as your brother. I hope we can make things work between us. I promise I will be a better man.”
I crouched next to the teepee.Should I enter now? Stay out here? What should I do?
Marcellious said nothing further. When his sobs subsided, I pulled back the door flap. I entered, hoping to appear as if I’d just arrived and hadn’t overheard his private confessions.
Marcellious’ eyes appeared puffy, yet a new softness radiated from his expression.
“How did it go?” I said, settling next to Roman. “Feel better?”
“I’m not sure,” he croaked.
Roman seized Marcellious’ hand. We both gasped.
“I forgive you, brother,” Roman said, his rasping voice sounding like he had emerged from the bottom of a deep well. “I am honored to have you as my brother. As long as we are alive, we shall always be warriors, side by side.”
His eyelids fluttered open, landing on Marcellious, who had resumed crying.
“I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Marcellious blubbered. “But thank you.”
“Everyone deserves to be forgiven and given a chance to start over,” Roman whispered.
“I need to be alone to gather myself,” Marcellious said. “Thank you for your kind heart, brother. Thank you for forgiving me.”
Roman squeezed Marcellious’ hand. “You’re welcome.”
After Marcellious exited, Roman turned his head toward me with apparent effort. He took my hand in his, and his eyelids fell closed.
Weeping silently, I clasped my hands around his.
Without opening his eyes, Roman said, “I heard everything you said, my darling. It seemed to be whispered to me from a distance, but I heard it all.”
“Oh, Roman,” I gasped. “You’ve returned to me. I was so scared I’d lost you.”
His eyelids slowly opened, and I met his intense gaze. “Never, Olivia. You will never lose me. I’ve told you before, and I’ll repeat it—I vow to always return to you, even if death has claimed one of us. But this time, I survived death.”
I lowered my head and kissed his parched lips, moving gently as his lips felt tender and ravaged. The kiss was a homecoming, a welcoming of one another.
I was met by glistening adoration radiating from his blue eyes when I withdrew. “I can breathe again now that you’ve returned to me. I held a vigil for you for days.”
“Did you find the journal?”
I shook my head.
“We’ll find it together,” he said, caressing my hand with his thumb.
“I’m more afraid of Balthazar than ever before,” I admitted. “He’s not going to be happy you’re gone. How on earth did you escape? I saw a man after you arrived. He stared at me, but he didn’t seem malevolent.”
I held back the part about how it seemed like I knew that man.
“I’m as mystified as you are,” Roman said. He turned to lie on his side.
I lowered myself to lie facing him.
“I was fraught with fever and delusions, so I thought I imagined him. Balthazar lied to you about caring for me and keeping me alive. Those were clearly not his intentions. He only wanted to make me suffer and then kill me.”
I shuddered. “Of course. I figured as much, but I had to risk it. You have to know that. I would never have left you to Balthazar’s mercy had I known he would torture you.”
