Page 111 of Flameborne: Fury
After the fear and destruction of Kgosi’s attack, then the roaring and shouts, then the wind of flying, my ears rang in the near-silence.
I pushed up on Donavyn’s chest and looked around. Kgosi and Akhane lumbered away from us as dawnlight rose, turning the sky pink and pale orange.
Then a shaking, calloused hand appeared on my face. I startled, snapping to look down at Donavyn as that sensation of tender skin and raw vulnerability rushed back in.
He stared at me, lines in his forehead, hand on my face and I saw it all there in his eyes.
Grief. Fear. Uncertainty.Pity.The questions.
God, it hit me like a punch in the stomach and the shame rushed back. I recoiled from his touch, turning away and scrambling to my feet, but I stumbled.
“No, Bren. Don’t run from me. I’m here.”
He caught me before I’d taken two steps, wrapped his arms around me from behind, dropped his chin to my shoulder, andheld meas great, wracking sobs broke in my throat and my body shook.
I flinched at first, certain he’d never see me exceptlike that.But as he continued to hold me, refused to let me run, cupped a gentle hand over my head and held me to him, his whispered words in my ear eventually broke through.
“…not your fault. You have no shame. You were hurt. You were manipulated and used. That’s not your fault, Bren. That’s onthem.Don’t ever feel ashamed for yourself. Feel pity for them, for the darkness that must live in them to make them such monsters. I’m so sorry, Bren. I’m so sorry. You never deserved that…”
My tears returned, along with a coiled ball of pressure in my lungs. A thought. A word. The thing I’d wanted to say formonths.The thing that was true, but no one would believe. It crawled up from my guts and into my throat, demanding to be heard, but I was terrified—
“I said no!” I gasped, the words vomiting from me. “I said no, I told them not to!I said no!”
“I know, my love. I know,” Donavyn whispered, curled over me and holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. But I needed it tighter.
“I said no,” I repeated lamely and went slack in his arms, sobbing.
“I know. I saw. They were wrong, Bren.Theywere wrong. Not you. Them.”
I turned in his arms and as he straightened to give me room, I made myself meet his pained gaze, searching his eyes for the lie. He stared back at me, hands in my hair.
“How can you—” I broke off, swallowing convulsively. Donavyn’s expression crumpled, but he never broke eye-contact. He stayed with me. And I had to see if he was true. “I had already given myself to him,” I murmured through numb lips. “Ididn’t say no before. I thought he loved me. And he thought… he thought I said yes.”
It was the first hint of his anger. I tensed as Donavyn seemed to swell, the storm clouds in his eyes flashing lightning. “No, Bren,” he said in a tight snarl. “Hemadeyou agree, so if he was ever found out he could claim the problem wasyou.He used you. He’s a monster. And if anyone tells you otherwise, you send them to me.”
“But, why would you…howcould you still loveme after—”
“Bren,” his tone was dark with warning and I went instantly still. I didn’t even breathe. “You hear meclearly.” He clawed his fingers into my hair and held my head so I couldn’t turn away, his gaze fire and steel.“I love you.You’remine. God made you for me, and me for you. This darkness is something that happened. It will never touch the love I have for you. And when you’re ready—only when you believe me, then you tell me who they were, and I will wipe those men off the face of this earth. Because they no longer deserve to breathe. But, make no mistake: you’ll never face this alone again. And I’ll never share you.Never.I’d never want to. You’remine.”
Those words broke something in me. I choked and fell into him as pain poured from me like a waterfall. Every fear, every shame, every question and every frightening answer. All of it.
I fell into Donavyn’s chest and we sank to the grass again, together, as I purged grief and mortification, rage and fear.
And through it all, he whispered the words, over and over.
Mine.
Never alone.
Beautiful.
Not to blame.
Never to blame.
Mine.
Mine.
