Page 47 of Reign of Light
“We will see when he comes out. Either way, we will be there for him,” I say.
“Can I show him the ship? What if he wants to stay there like me? Can he mister Weston?” Fin cranes his neck to look over his shoulder at Weston, his eyes wide and hopeful.
“Do you want to stay on the ship?” Weston asks. After telling Fin that we would be living on Dawnlin together forever, we hadn’t discussed whether he wanted to stay or go back to camp. Even with the threat of Dane eliminated, I just assumed, and my stomach tumbles at the thought that he might want to leave.
“Course!” he says with a smile. “The ship is way more fun than camp. Besides, there’s no one to tell me stories there.”
Weston reaches out and ruffles Fin’s hair. “Then sure, Roley can come if he wants. Even if it is only once in a while.”
A cry of excitement explodes from Fin’s tiny body as he jumps up and down. “We need to get him a bed! He can stay if he wants, right? Oh! And Jorn and I can teach him to climb! And, and, and,” he stutters over his words, his elated thoughts going faster than his mouth can keep up with.
I can’t hold back my giggle. “I’m sure the ship will give him somewhere to sleep. You two will have fun.” If herding one energetic kid wasn’t exhausting enough, I can only imagine playing hide and seek with two of them all day. I sneak a glance at Weston, only to find him smiling softly. His gaze is fixed on Fin, and I watch as his eyes slowly move to where our hands are clasped together.
The last time Weston and I spoke about him wanting a family, he avoided the question, instead explaining that he already has one. Here. This. All of us. But I can’t tell if the look in his eye tells me there was more he wasn’t saying.
Longing.
His eyes flicker to meet mine, and I turn away, my chest squeezing tightly. I can’t handle thinking more about what we’ve lost, what we’ve sacrificed. Not tonight. Tonight is for the Voyagers.
The moment our feet hit the sand, Fin takes off running toward Auralie’s setup on the opposite side of the beach. An enormous pile of dry sticks and logs is steepled high between the portal and the surf, circled by blankets and linens for if the night turns cold. Stacked crates form makeshift tables that I’m positive will fill with food and drinks as soon as everyone arrives.
Auralie waves enthusiastically beside Stassia from beside the bonfire, beckoning us all to join them. Just as I raise my hand to wave back, my foot sinks into an unusually large divot and I stumble, but before I can even put my hands out to brace my fall, Weston’s hands are there, wrapping around my waist and keeping me upright.
His warm chest presses into my back, and I feel the tickle of his breath brushing the curve of my ear. “Already stumbling? Jorn hasn’t even broken out the wine yet.”
I twist in his arms, and wrinkle my nose at him. “Youare actually the only one who has been drunk.” He cocks an eyebrow and I smile innocently, knowing he’s trying to piece together what he’s missing. “It was juice. I was faking.”
His face morphs as he finally figures it out. “Signee,” he grumbles, and I can’t hold back my laugh.
“Guilty.”
The muscle in his jaw flutters as he stares down at me. “So you weren’t drunkenly betting me to kiss you.”
“Nope,” I say, drawing out the sound, and watch his expressionsoften. “I did that with all my wits about me, but you said no. Even if you didn’t think I was influenced by the drink, I don’t know if you would have. I’m still mad about that by the way.”
One corner of his lips turns up, and his eyes stay locked on mine. “My father would be proud to know you are such a skilled strategist and actor. You would have been great in negotiations. All those years of training clearly weren’t wasted.” He reaches up, his hand cupping my jaw as his thumb runs over my bottom lip. “But Lennox, if only you knew every single time I thought about kissing you, before that night and after it.”
He steps closer, his head dropping toward mine, and I tip my chin up to hold his gaze. His eyes dart to the side, checking to see that there’s no one within earshot, before his voice lowers impossibly deeper. “If only you knew about all the other thoughts, the things I pictured doing to you over and over again. Things I convinced myself I could never do. If you only knew all the ways I wanted to make you scream my name every time this perfect face scowled, or those beautiful eyes rolled.”
My cheeks light on fire as my stomach bottoms out, and I squeeze my thighs together. His smirk deepens as his eyes flicker to my cheekbones, catching the blush I’m sure is there, before they fall to my mouth.
“Like what things?” I whisper.
A low chuckle grumbles in his throat. “You’re already well acquainted with some of them.” His tongue runs over the inside of his bottom lip, and I catch mine between my teeth as heat pools low in my belly. “Things with my hands. Things with my tongue. But it sounds like I have some making up to do. We wouldn’t want my queen to be mad at me, would we?”
“No,” I breathe, and his mouth widens into a grin, his eyes never leaving my lips.
His hand finds the column of my neck, and his thumb presses into my chin, tilting me back and pulling my face to his. Hungry lips crush mine as he kisses me with all the desire I knew he was holding back thatnight on deck. He shuttered it again, the moment I mentioned our titles, but it never went away. I’ve been reminded of it over and over again, but each time his lips touch mine or his fingers brush my skin, it feels like I’ve been waiting forever.
Now, there are no titles to hold us back.
His other hand slides over my hip, sinking to my low back and grazing the top of my ass as he pulls me into him, our chests pressed tightly together. My hands fist his clothes as lips part mine, and his tongue sinks deep, jaw working to devour me until my breaths become shallow. His fingers slide around the back of my neck, lacing through the hair at my nape and my knees threaten to buckle.
If he kissed me like this on the ship, the night I had to tear myself away from him and walk back toward the enemy, therealenemy, I wouldn’t have wanted to leave. With every move, every stroke, every breath, I feel everything he wanted to tell me, even back then.
I want everything else to disappear. I don’t want to leave this moment, this kiss.
A sharp whistle rings out next to us, followed by Jorn’s telltale laughter, and Weston’s chest vibrates with a growl beneath my hands.
