Page 65 of Skyshade
Their faces were just inches apart as she said, “Maybe.”
He held her closer, lips brushing down her temple, and said, “Wait until the end of the song, at least.”
For a moment, she allowed herself to melt into him. To pretend that this wedding was done purely out of love and celebration, and not as an elaborate distraction. She let herself fall fully into his gaze, their eyes locked like a vow, speaking to each other without words, the way only people who knew each other could. The way only people who had fought distant dangers and sacrificed their lives for each other could.
Grim made an amused sound as he brushed against her waist, and the hidden pockets there. She had tucked throwing stars inside.
He clicked his tongue, then leaned down to say into her ear, “Only my wife would come to her own wedding armed to the teeth.”
Isla’s hands slowly dropped down his chest, smoothing across the rough material he always wore. “Only my husband would know the places I keep my blades in the first place.”
The corner of his lip twitched upward. “You forget I know you, wife.” He leaned in closer, so his words were pressed right against her ear. “I know you have a blade here.” He touched the curve of her arm. “And here.” He gently stroked the pins in her hair that yes, she had sharpened into weapons, should she need them. “And here.” His fingers ran up her thigh past the other blade—dangerously high, almost to her hip—to where she kept yet another dagger. He brushed against it, leaving blooming heat behind, and she swallowed. He straightened again.
“That’s all you know about me? Where I keep my weapons?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Tell me.”
His face turned serious. He leaned in, so only she could hear him. “I know you prefer the other wedding dress but didn’t wear it, because you want it to stay ours. I know you hate that we’re dancing in front of a crowd right now. I know you’re hoping a storm will interrupt the ceremony, so it can all be over.” He leaned in even farther. “I know you have nightmares every night, and it kills me—kills me—that I’m not there to hold you through them, the way I was before. So, instead I send whatever I can. Your favorite foods. Your favorite flowers. I know you’ve killed dozens of people who should have rotted in our prisons long ago, and I know why you do it. To keep the beast within at bay. To funnel your anger and skills into something that maybe looks sort of like good.”
Her breath hiked. How could he know that? He must have felt her jolt of surprise, because he pressed his forehead to hers.
“I know that, because you and me, we are the same shade, Hearteater. I knew it the day you stabbed me through the chest while our lips were still locked. I knew it when you looked at me with such hatred, such fury, but never fear...not even knowing who I was, and what I had done.” His lips brushed across her cheek. She wasn’t sure she was breathing. “I knew it when you gave up your life for mine, because for you...only for you...I would do the same.”
Grim gently pulled away. His eyes burned into hers, as he gently tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “You are the only person who has ever seen any good past all the blood on my hands, Hearteater.”
And he was the only one who hadn’t made her feel shame for who and what she was.
“You see, I used to have nightmares too, heart.” He did? She must have looked surprised, because he said, “You wouldn’t know. They all stopped when I met you.”
The nightmares stopped.
Something sank through her chest, something she had buried deep inside, bottled for fear of what it would to do to her.
Something like trust.
They were still dancing. For the last few minutes, she had almost forgotten she was in the center of her own wedding, but when Grim spun her around, she spotted a smirking solider. Someone she recognized. She had faced him on the battlefield.
That trust wilted.
These people...they had been killing her friends just weeks before. They had been attacking her. Now they just stood to the side, drinking from black goblets and murmuring.
If anyone on Lightlark saw her, right now, twirling around with the ruler of Nightshade, as his bride, they would be disgusted.
She was a traitor. She was a villain. She was everything they said she was.
Grim was right. They were the same. No one could understand her mistakes the way he could.
She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
He tenderly moved her head so their gazes met again. “I know you’re still angry. I know you don’t yet forgive me. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Tell me how to fix this.”
Her eyes burned. For all of their good memories, there were bad ones, things she didn’t know if she could ever forgive. “I—I don’t know.”
Grim nodded. For several moments they danced in silence, looking away from each other. In the absence of words, she thought about the betrayals. The heartbreak. He seemed to sense her anger and sadness, because he said, “Don’t worry. It’ll be over soon.”
She laughed without humor. “And then what? They’ll all watch as you take me to bed?” The way they were watching them now, as if expecting their every movement, looking for lies, it wouldn’t shock her.
