Page 121 of I Dream of Dragons
I open my mouth to tell him about Tru and… close it again.
If I tell him, he’ll push away his last and only remaining friend. And Tru had his back. He pushed me off that balcony thinking he was saving Jai. Not to mention, he has deep grievances against the finnfolk who took his sister from him.
What should I do?
“I slipped,” I murmur.
“Slipped?”
“I got on a balcony to see the view and the balustrade was broken.”
“The balustrade was br… Are you kidding me?” His voice drops into that low growl. “Where was Tru? I’m going to wring his fucking neck.”
“Not his fault.”
“The hell it isn’t.”
“Jai…”
His mouth crashes against mine. He kisses me like Phaethon, hard and punishing. Aching. Demanding. Needing.
We break apart, panting.
“Never again,” he whispers. “Never again will I call out your name on the shore, over and over, unable to accept you’re gone. Never again will I wade into the sea and let the waves batter me as I grieve for you.” He cups my face, presses his forehead to mine. “I looked for you. Wept for you. Vowed to never take another woman. I told you. You are the other half of my soul.”
My breath catches. I know he’s not talking about today. This is an echo of the past. “Tell me. Tell me everything. Tell me the truth.”
“The truth is, the king has no business delving into my thoughts and stealing my memories to deceive you.”
“Tell me. Tell me about this girl you once loved.”
“A dark thorn she was,” he says, his voice breaking, “yet lovely.”
Oh Gods…
“She was a thorn, not a flower. She never bent. She never wilted. She was full of anger. And pain. And beautiful promise.”
Tears slip down my face.Oh Gods…
“Don’t cry,makhair.”
“The king deceived me, made me believe… believe he was the one. While all this time… it was you. What does that mean? What doesmakhairmean?”
“Thorn. My lovely dark thorn.”
All this time. I feel like I’m about to shatter. All this time, he’d known me, and I’ve known him.
“Mars?”I breathe, and my voice changes, the power pulsing in me. “Is it really you?”
The power connects with him, tugging. I have the power of names, of finding the true name and recalling memories, and it fits him. Suits him.
He groans, his chin dipping, and a distant howl echoes inside my mind. Or is it inside his? “Aethre… What are you doing? My head is about to explode.”
Heat burns up my neck as I silence the voice of my power. “Apologies. I was only calling your name.”
“My name. That felt like…” He rubs at his temples. “Like a punch. Phaethon is not happy.”
“… sorry?”
