Page 121 of A Sword of Ice
Even though the place was made of ice, it protected them from the wind, and therefore the sharp bite of cold.
Not wanting to sit in a thick layer of snow, Iona put her magic to work until two high-backed chairs had been formed of her ice. She went and took a seat, gesturing at Julius to take the one next to her.
He chuckled, thumb swiping against his bottom lip in a gesture that was all too sexual, flashing white teeth. The sound of his amusement rumbled through the space of their small enclosure.
“What?” she demanded, pressing her thighs tightly together.
“Nothing, mate.” He dropped his hand and stalked forward, pressing a kiss to her cheekbone. “You just look like a queen on her ice throne, is all.”
Her face warmed at the declaration, but before she could reply to him, he was already taking his own seat beside her, angling his body so their knees touched.
“Talk to me?” He framed the words like a question, giving her the option to do so if she wished, and also the option to deny him if she didn’t feel like bearing her heart and soul.
It was because of that she knew without a doubt that he wasmadefor her. Julius would never push or pressure her into doing something she didn’t want to do, even if it meant leaving him in the dark about her feelings. Even though she could feel his curiosity burning down their bond, he didn’t press.
“For once in my life, I’m not sure where to begin.” A tear slipped down her cheek, and she batted it away impatiently. “Ugh, and I can’t stop crying. It’s disgusting.”
Julius leaned back against his seat but didn’t say a word. She knew he wouldn’t until she poured her own feelings out.
“She’s dead, Julius,” Iona blurted. “Malika’s dead and Mana abandoned me. For a second I thought you had abandoned me, too. It’s a mess. I did all of this to find her because I was so sure she was alive. I put everybody at risk. I putyouat risk. Fuck—” She broke off, hands clamping against her head. It was a strange sensation to not feel her curls there anymore, to feel nothing but the soft fuzz against her scalp. Tears came anew at the realization, but she pushed on. “I put the new Resistance in danger. I put the prince in harm’s way while I was busy chasing a damn dream.”
She pushed herself up from the chair and paced the small confines. Her fingers nearly broke against her thighs with the force she began tapping them.
She probably sounded and looked manic, she knew. She could feel her mate’s worry for her down their bond. She tried to rein in her instability, but her words came out short and choppy.
“The Fae recognized me. I look like my sister. Well, she looks like me. And Weylyn pulled me into his mind with that weird power of his and—” Her fingers cramped. She closed her hand into a fist then opened it again. “She was taken. So I looked through their records. They tortured her. They cut her hair.” Her fingers scraped against her scalp.
Julius stood to his full height, and still he didn’t interrupt.
“Our father and mother used to braid our hair together. I preferred to leave my curls, but it was a sense of pride for us… That seems so small compared to broken bones and missing toes, but it got to me the most. Like they were trying to take away her identity…” A sob choked her. “She was sent away from the camp and to her execution.”
That was what broke her.
Iona crumbled within herself, her knees giving out. The ground seemed closer suddenly as her body fell towards it. But then she was in Julius’ arms. He caught her before she fell into the snow. He pulled her up to his chest, wrapping his arms around her back to keep her in place. She was too weak to wrap her arms around him, but he had strength enough for the both of them.
He picked up her and cradled her to his chest as the sobs racked her body.
“The feeling was gone!” she shouted into his jacket. “I tried to find it inside of me, but Mana didn’t respond. What if Mana was never there to begin with? What if it was all a lie? What if it was part of my own delusions? What if the voice I’d been hearing this whole time had been nothing but my own hope?”
“Iona…” Julius began. “Who the fuck cares?”
She pulled away, shock marring her expression as she took in his own pulled brows and flashing eyes. “What?”
“Who the fuck cares if the voice in your head was your own hope?” His arms squeezed her for comfort. “There’s nothing wrong with having hope. So what if it wasn’t Mana? So what if it was you this whole time? What does that matter?”
“It means… it means I was alone this whole time.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it, Iona. When one has hope, one is never truly alone.” His thumb swiped against the cheek he’d kissed moments before. “I am sorry about your sister. I am sorry the records in that place silenced the hope inside you.” His palm spread on top of her short hair, the pads of his fingers scraping along the bits she’d missed.
She suddenly felt self-conscious about the fucked up way it probably looked. She was never the kind of Fae to fall for the allure of her own reflection, though she’d known she was attractive. Her hair had been her favorite part of herself. Not because they hid her ears, which were now on display, but because it had reminded her of the life she’d had before.
Now that, too, was gone.
“You did this to honor her,” Julius surmised. “To remember her.”
“I would never forget.”
“No. You wouldn’t.” His thumb swiped against her cheek again. “I have seen soldiers fall in combat and others tattoo the names of their friends on their bodies in ink. Even if it is something they could never forget, they need the reminder.”
