Page 135 of Mountain of Mirrors and Starlight
“I’m sorry—” she started.
He pulled away, breathing hard, his soft, sullen mouth parted. Her chin felt raw without his lips on hers.
“We can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
Aislinn knelt up in bed. “You were controlling it,” she said. “You’re fine. I trust you.”
Caer shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Really, truly I am. But I can’t risk it. I can’t riskyou.”
Aislinn swallowed, her senses returning. He was right. Of course he was right. If the situations were reversed she’d build up a wall between them before risking his life.
But her soul felt flayed without his body to rest against.
She hugged her shirt to his chest, and rested her head against his bowed back, mindful of the wound. She wanted to tell him it was all right, but the words wouldn’t form in her mouth. “I understand,” she said. “We’ll resume this back in the palace.”
She got up from the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll squeeze in with Beau. He won’t mind. We used to share all the time when we were little.”
“Right.”
She moved towards the door.
“Ais?”
“Yes?”
“You don’t hate me, do you?”
Ais froze, stung by his words. “No one who truly knows you could hate you, Caer, and certainly not me. I hate what has been done to you. I hate the circumstances that keep us apart. But you? Never.”
She paused at the door, waiting for him to say something else, but he did not, and eventually she walked away.
Caer lay in the dark room staring at the ceiling for some time after Aislinn left, wishing there was a cold river he could jump into—either to calm himself down or drown himself, he wasn’t fully sure.
How could he have been soreckless?He could have killed her. Never mind the haziness of the ale dampening his senses, he could still feel her on his skin like fire. That kiss… God, that kiss…
Caer had kissed women before. He hadn’t kissed anyone likethat.He’d fallen into her like they were made of the same flesh, like he’d erupt if he didn’t have her. It still felt like that, a volcano, a comet, a spool of unravelling silk.
He could not get free of her. He doubted he ever would.
If you ever kissed me, I think I’d fall in love with you, and if I fell in love with you, I don’t think I’d ever stop.
How was he ever going to survive her?
“Caerwyn…” a voice called. “It’s time to come home, son.”
Caer opened his eyes. Owen was standing before him, a hand on his arm. He was back in Afelcarreg, in the hall, seated on a throne. He tried to move, but great iron manacles sprung up around his wrists and ankles. He strained against them.
“Don’t move, Caer,” Owen said. “Don’t struggle. You’re home now.”
Home, home, home.Nothing about this place was home. Home was firelight and laughter and shiny cards beneath his fingers, the feel of the forge, the whisper of a woman’s smile.
Minerva’s hearty chuckle. Diana’s laugh. Luna’s baking. The sound of Magna tinkering in the corner…
And Aislinn. Aislinn’s face and voice and presence.
