Page 132 of Of Realms and Chaos

Bellamy

She looked radiant as her face turned skyward, her long curly hair billowing in the icy breeze. My heart threatened to leap out of my chest and follow her, the beat erratic. For once there was a sense of rightness in the air, because Asher was finally choosing us.

I knew this meant taking her home to meet Adbeel, which would result in her learning about a past and a future I feared. But maybe that was what she needed to truly see how much she mattered to the world. Though, I had to admit, seeing her like this—carefree and happy—made me want to delay that inevitable conversation a little longer.

“You know, I used to think you were incapable of love.” Henry’s words stole my focus, my eyes hesitating on Asher’s retreating form atop Wrath for a moment longer before straying to him.

“What do you mean?” The rise and fall of my shoulders was followed by a slow roll of Henry’s eyes as he walked forward once more. There was silence for a few moments, as if he were collecting his thoughts to best explain. I allowed him the time—as annoying as it was.

Of course I knew how to love. Sometimes, I thought I loved too much, allowing hurt and disappointment and loss to slowly chip away at my soul. Proof could be found in the way I acted after Asher disappeared. Or after we lost Winona, Pino, and all of Haven.

“You never said it. Not to me or even to Noe or Adbeel.”

My feet stilled, the accusation followed closely by memories flooding my mind. I said it. I had to have said it. They were my family. They were everything to me.

I had said I loved them, right?

“The first time I had ever heard you say you loved someone was the night you first met Asher. Do you remember that? Your hair looked ridiculous, and you were acting like a fool. I thought that you had lost your mind. And I was also terrified of what she might do to you, to our realm. But, more than anything, I was jealous of the idea that you would have someone that you cared about more than me, than our family we had built.” I tried and failed to keep my face blank as he spoke, not wanting any of my feelings to distract his line of thought. But hearing him admit that left me gaping at him in disbelief. “Do not look at me like that. You know that you are bad at showing affection. Noe might assume you love her, but you have never said it to us. I truly thought you were not able to feel something like that, as if whatever they had done to you as a youngling had altered you in more ways than one.”

“Of course, I love you, Henry. You are like a brother to me. No, you are my brother. I guess I took that for granted and never thought to explain it.” We pressed on, our boots getting stuck in the snow as it deepened at the base of the hill. I tried to step into the footprints Wrath had left behind, but his leaps were too far apart. All the while, I thought about what Henry might be getting to with his statement. How had I never said that I loved them? It seemed such an odd thing not to say when so many years had passed with my Trusted at my side. “I am sorry I did not ever tell you that.”

With a deep sigh, Henry draped his arm around my shoulders, weighing me down and causing the snow to sink into my boots. Gods, he could be irritating. A smirk lifted his cheeks, his freckled, tan skin slightly red from the chill.

“Saying it does not count when you are forced to, but I will still take it. I love you too, even though you are a raging lunatic. But that was not the point of what I was trying to say. I meant that I see the way you look at Ash, and I suddenly want something like that. Maybe it is jealousy, or perhaps I like the idea of copying you to steal some of the attention, just so your head does not grow too big.”

We laughed, the humor nearly coming out as scoffs. Asher and Wrath had disappeared into the tavern, which remained a long distance away. Still, I slowed my gait, wanting to give Henry as much time as he needed to explain his thoughts and feelings.

“Genevieve is like Asher in a lot of ways, fiery and stubborn and a natural-born leader, but she is also vastly different. She takes more than she gives, and she is spoiled. Not just in riches either. That girl has more money and gowns and jewels than she could ever possibly have use for, but according to her, she is surrounded by an abundance of love, too. It is odd to come across someone like that. At first, she pissed me off. I hated what her brother had done to Asher, and I was sure that she was just as evil. But then I went to her, planning on apologizing, and she threatened to gut me. Suddenly, I was acutely aware of the passion that flared in her eyes, of the rise and fall of her chest as she pointed a small dagger at my stomach, of the way her curls looked like spun gold in the light of the flames. So, I kissed her, and even though I knew she would kiss me back, I had still been stunned to hear the knife clatter to the ground and feel her arms around my neck. Not a day has passed since that I have stopped thinking about that pissy princess.”

There it was. The truth he had not wanted to admit. One that plagued him enough to accept that love came in many different forms, but none as strong as the love you could feel in a stranger whose heart beat in time with yours. In a future that you had not realized was possible until you looked in their eyes and understood that not even the sun could shine as bright.

“You are in love with her.” Not a question, but a statement. Because neither of us would lie to one another. We never had. Until Asher, that was.

“I am.” His response was quiet, a faded and pained version of his normal voice.

“And you told her,” I guessed, looking at him through the corner of my eye. He winced, his arm momentarily tightening on my shoulder.

“Would you believe me if I said it was an accident?” Turning my head fully, I leveled him with a half-lidded stare, my lips pursed. He groaned, running his free hand through his hair. “Fine, I did it on purpose. But what was I supposed to do? She was on top of me, and she was making the most intoxicating noise. I swear her hair was glowing. Then she said my name, and I just could not stop the words from leaving my mouth.”

“How fast did she run?” My question earned me a smack to the side of my head, pulling a snort from me before I could stop it.

“She did not run! The bitch came on my face, acted like I said nothing, then told me to leave. Do you know how many times I have got off on the memory of it? Absolutely ridiculous.” His free arm flew into the air, fingers stretched wide as if the memory were before us and he was directing me towards it.

That moment would easily go down in history as one of the biggest tests of my self-control. Instead of laughing, I let out a long whistle, lifting my arm and placing it around his shoulders to match his own hold on me.

“Asher once threw a butter knife at my chest, so I think it is safe to assume that your little love story could get worse and still workout.”

He groaned, mumbling something along the lines of, “Gods, please, do not let her stab me in the chest.”

Slapping him right in the spot where Asher had stabbed me, I smiled. “Unfortunately for you, I do not think that Genevieve has quite as poor of aim as Ash.”

By the time we walked through the door to the tavern, Asher and Wrath were both seated at a table, people all around them flashing looks of confusion and disbelief towards the dalistori. Asher had been continuously practicing leaving her shields down, so I knew she likely was being bombarded by a slew of derogatory remarks. Still, her smile did not falter, her back straight and chin high. The male beside her caught my eye, stopping me in my tracks.

He was young by the look of him, probably thirty years or so. He wore a long-sleeve top that was a blue so deep it matched the night sky. His trousers and vest were both pure black like his hair, which sat in a messy knot at the base of his neck. I could tell that he was attempting to speak to Asher, though the smile on her face could not hide the furrow of her brow that told me she did not understand much of what he was saying. Not that the dimwit seemed to care as he prattled on.

“Ah, now this is what I need. We can skin him alive, maybe tie his feet to Wrath and have the dalistori run for a mile. Or ten? Oh, what if we—” I cut Henry off with a raise of my hand in his direction. He groaned, knowing I was about to spoil his fun.

“As much as I would love to pull out each of his teeth and shove them into his eyes, I have to trust that Asher can take care of herself. If I always act like a jealous and possessive lover, then she will think I do not believe in her. We need her to know we have faith in her strength, especially for what is to come.” Without warning, I grabbed the front of Henry’s shirt and dragged him over to a secluded table in the corner, where we watched as Asher’s annoyance grew.

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