Page 141 of Ashes of Honor

Dim lighting from within the tent made his eyes glow. He stared into mine, searching—promising. “You didn’t. You could never. I suppose we’ll have to find balance.”

“If only we had the time,” I said, swallowing hard. I inched closer, my hand sliding down his arm, stopping to intertwine my fingers with his. Pressing a kiss to his nose, I whispered against his skin. “I am sorry. At times, it’s hard to separate the duty I have as your General and the one I have as your lover.”

“My lover?” Alexiares let out a cough of a laugh, the sound rough. “I was under the impression the name you now held was a bit more permanent than that.”

A ghost of a smile touched my lips as I met his gaze, searching for permission. “Only if you still want me to have it.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. He just studied me, his face unreadable, and it felt like being stabbed through the gut, the pain sharper than anything I’d felt on the battlefield. Then, his hand slid to my waist, fingers curling as if he were anchoring himself to me. I crawled toward him, sliding into his lap, my knees framing his legs as I straddled him.

“What I want,” he said, kissing the crown of my head, “is to grow old with you. To have the chance to love you for as long as possible.” He shifted enough to meet my gaze. “Living at The Compound, seeing all that normal shit—the stuffI didn’t think I’d ever have—it made me comfortable enough to start dreaming. I didn’t dream before … beforeyou. Only nightmares.”

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat as his voice broke again.

“But at The Compound,” he continued, his hands coming up to cup my face with a gaze so intense, it was as if he were studying me for the moment I inevitably disappeared. “Sleeping next to you, I began to dream. I don’t think I would ever dream again if I lost you and that scares the hell out of me, because the dreams—they’re more vivid than our reality.”

Just like that, it was all out in the open. Laid bare between us. Every jagged piece of his soul.

He shifted his weight, sitting up and fumbling for the lantern that illuminated his olive-hued skin. His hands moved to his face, fingers tracing his jaw, then pressing into his temples as though searching for a release. They lingered for a beat, trembling slightly before falling away. I grabbed them, pressing one against my heart while I traced the lines of his ink with my fingers.

I let my head fall against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Neither of us moved, caught in a fragile moment where breathing—just existing in the same space as each other was the only thing that mattered.

There was nothing to say. No grand declarations could change the reality of what we faced. Perhaps that was why we hadn’t spoken about this until now. We both knew there was no point. All we had was now, and we would love each other like there was no tomorrow. Because there very well might not be.

I pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, my voice wavering as I whispered, “In every lifetime, Alexiares. But I hope the next one is peaceful.”

He stilled, his forehead coming to rest against mine, his body tense. The hesitation between us was fleeting, days without my mouth meeting his lips made me desperate for his affection—his attention. He kissed me. It was tentative—soft, coaxing, almost afraid to demand too much.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed him, needed this. The armor we both wore cracked.

His hands tightened at my waist, grounding against me as I clung to him, my fingers threading through his loose hair, tugging lightly. I grinned as Alexiares shuddered under my touch, biting down on his bottom lip gently, then kissing it lightly to encourage it to heal.

The world blurred at the edges; nothing existed in this moment but this—us.

Our breaths, our hearts, our tangled limbs trying to hold on as though we’d never let go. His hands guided me, sliding up to the curve of my spine and pulling me flush against him. His lips found the base of my neck. I gasped, already mourning the loss when he moved away.

But he returned, his mouth claiming mine with a new intensity—deeper. There was no rush, no frantic urgency. We were close enough that I swore our hearts beat to the same rhythm.

“If this is all we have,” I whispered, tracing over the scar placed right over his heart: A M A I A. Reluctantly I broke our connection, the words catching in my throat, “it’s enough.”

Alexiares rested his forehead against mine. My fingers shook as I cupped his face, brushing the stubble along his jaw, memorizing every detail I already knew by heart.

His hands stayed at my waist, his touch feather-light now, like he didn’t want to let go. The corner of his mouth lifted, a smile—so small, yet so devastatingly tender. “It’ll never be enough, but I’ll take it, anyway.”

The Outskirtsof Covert Province were about the most deplorable thing I’d ever seen in my life—and I considered Before me well-traveled. The further we moved into the territory, the more unsettling it all became. This stretch of land was so barren and broken that it made the emptiness we stumbled upon in Hickman seem like a welcome party. Air felt heavier here. Of course the blistering cold and acrid scent of decay didn’t help.

It had been days since we’d seen another living soul. Houses, barns, entire communities stood hollowed out. Laundry lines hung limp against aluminum rooms and wood panels tacked over crumbling brick—the fabric stiff with dirt, time, and ice. Meals were left uneaten on tables. By meals, I meant stale, molded pieces of bread with maggot infested scraps of animal fat.

Every step through these remnants of lives made me want Ronan’s head all much more.

Still, the gnawing sensation of being watched clung to me, sharpening my instincts, reverting me back to that primal state humans never evolved from—not truly. There was more than one instance when I turned, catching glimpses of absolutely jack shit but shadows cast by bare trees or the occasional movement of tarp flapping in the wind. The realization doing nothing to ease the nerves my gut told me was validated.

If Ronan knew we were here, why let us get this far?

Why allow us to creep closer to the capitol without a direct challenge?

What thehellwas happening back home? On the other side of these wards?

The questions were splinters beneath my skin, the answer hidden in the empty silence.

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