Falcon steps nearer, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with me, and I drop my gaze away from the sky, returning to the carefully arranged wooden funeral pyre, and the two bodies wrapped in white cloths atop it.
“You certainly embraced that dear friend, Claaron.” His tone wears a layer of ice, much like his heart.
“Go fuck yourself with your katana. … Oh, wait, Jai broke your favorite little toy.” He doesn’t give a hint of reaction, and I’m not about to give in first. Silence lingers harsher than a New Celtic provincial winter. “The sooner this is over, the sooner you can escape the madness of the emotions she elicits,” I growl.
“I do not believe you’ve ever needed Cait to cause madness, Claaron. Your track record proves you quite capable of that on your own.”
I’m in his face, teeth bared, growling by the next breath. Curse me for giving in, but Goddess help us all, even Jai couldn’t keep his cool with Falcon under his skin.
And he laughs.
“Do you claim me wrong, oh great First Brother of Graywyne?”
Tearing his head off and feeding him to the nearest elf is a tempting thought. However, I may be an asshole, but I’m not cruel. Sick bastard elves. I wouldn’t feed them Falcon or my worst enemy, though I’m unsure there’s a difference at this moment in time.
“Self-sacrifice is not madness, not that you would understand. Regardless of the North Star’s impact on the Dracopraesi, I don’t believe you have the heart to be changed as the rest of us. Can your mouth even speak the word ‘love’ without falling ill?”
House of Kielgard’s stoic First Brother glares, cold and unwavering. “You know nothing of what I understand or how the North Star affects me.” His lips form a tight line, jaw muscles flexing, teeth grinding, and he looks past me. “I’ve asked that Cait permit me to remain.” His gaze flashes hard back to me. “You sacrificed for Rainelm because you loved her in some way. Perhaps it was not as Theo loves Cait, but as a female ward, you did love her. I feel …”
Falcon stops and inhales sharply, glaring at the smirk I cannot hide.
“You love her,” I announce with a satisfied laugh. “You love Cait just as the rest of us surrounding her do.”
His face falls stony and dangerous. “I feel committed to Cait.”
I step back and laugh. “You love her. You honor-bound yourself to protect her and cannot escape the effect she has on those of us among her Guard. Accept it, Falcon.” Smirking, I shrug and turn away. “Of course, that is assuming she accepts you.”
But I stop dead in my tracks, faced with the funeral pyre … and the reminder. Cait accepted Oliver. “However, Cait is forgiving. Oliver seemed intent on proving he was untrustworthy in her eyes with his loyalty to Corrin, yet he quickly became a father-figure, filling those shoes left empty in the wake of her uncle’s death.” I spin around, connecting my fist with his jaw, catching him unaware. “Let that knock any misconstrued ideas you may have of taking Oliver’s place right out of your head.”
He wipes a smidge of blood from his lip and spits more on the fresh snow, a morbid painting of crimson on a white canvas. “You’re insane.”
Without an ounce of humor, I smirk. “You haven’t seen the tip of the iceberg of my insanity until you disturb Cait’s family. Cait loves Oliver. She will mourn his loss and celebrate his return. Intrude upon that, and I will prove the depth of my insanity. There is no corner of this world, no cave, no hole, no pit of hell deep enough to hide you from the crazy, dangerous dragon within me unleashed by such stupidity as you hurting Cait.”
“You think rather poorly of me, Claaron.” Falcon straightens his shoulders, puffing out his chest, nothing I find impressive despite his best effort. “I am a Dracopraesi, a Kielgard dragon. My interests lie in protecting the North Star to the highest level possible, not in disturbing Cait’s precious little family of pets. If you think—”
“No.” I stand my ground firm, planting a hand on his chest. “We will not do this, not now, not here. Oliver, even Corrin, neither were pets to her, and you will not taint those ties with petty remarks. Be a dragon. Fail to understand the human emotions entangled around her, yet rise above it, and do not fail the bond to which you have committed yourself by either destiny or choice.”
He snorts a laugh in my face, and by the grace of the Goddess, I don’t lay him flat out on the ground. “Perhaps there is some small reason your brothers consider you worthy of a ranking within your house.”
From Falcon, one should count that as a high compliment.
“I don’t care what my house brothers call me. Here, I’m Second-In-Command to Theo, and that’s well over your head, so I’m going to tell you right now: go relieve Liam. I have minimal tolerance for your attitude and even less for your face.” A stern tone and glare offers no opportunity for argument. “Send him to me.”
Waiting as he walks away, I turn toward the sky again. There are clouds of angel wings. Perhaps angels do not exist, but Cait would see them in the clouds, and she would show us all.
*Cait*
Every time Dante opens his eyes, their color amazes me. Whether I’ve caught him asleep in the den’s leather chair because he pushes beyond even his abilities or he simply blinks, the unveiling of those vivid blue irises is a beautiful thing to behold.
Perhaps it’s just their color, the stormy-summer-sky-meets-deepest-frozen-Atlantic-Ocean blue, or maybe it’s the swiftness with which they seek out mine the moment they open, but Dante’s eyes never fail to tug at my heart, begging answers for questions despite his tongue remaining locked in stubborn silence.
“Caitriona.” His sleep-thickened voice mumbles my name, eyes beautiful yet bleary as he blinks, slow to wake. “Why on earth are you watching me sleep?”
Dante buries half his face back into the pillow, hiding some of how his hair sticks up in every way he wouldn’t want it to, though he does style it in a rather ‘haphazard elegance’ as I like to call it anyway. If it weren’t for everything else that’s happened, I’d laugh. It’s reassuring to know demigods don’t always wake up looking like fresh-baked perfection either.
“I’m not really watching you sleep.” Tapping the last card on my game of solitaire, I shut off the Sky Book and tuck my feet back under me. “Do you have any idea how bad you’ve scared everyone who cares about you, Dante? I mean, sure, I’ve only known you for a month, but no one else has seen you sleep for seventeen hours straight either.” He curls farther under the comforter, turning away from me on the corner chair. “If I didn’t know for a fact you were eternal, I would have sworn you were … dying.” Choking on the last word, my attempt at lightheartedness fails.
“Perhaps a part of me has,” replies Dante’s muffled voice.
Maybe he means the death of Corrin or … “Cedric said you were talking in your sleep, even sat bolt upright, pulled this off your finger, and threw it across the room.” I pick his ring off the nightstand and step over to the bed, holding it where I know he’ll see it, though he acts like he’s not looking. “He told Theo he didn’t understand what you were saying, but you sounded angry, and he thought it was something about your mother. Anything you’d like to get off your chest before the others realize you’re awake and join us?”
I can’t back up fast enough as he tosses the covers away, swinging his legs off the side of the bed, taking me by surprise in his suddenness, capturing my arms in his hands. He blinks and mouths my name silently then lets go, slipping the ring away from me and back on.
I say nothing. I’m not sure what an appropriate response to that even is.
Running his hands through his hair, Dante hangs his head, staring at the floor. “Have they yet made arrangements?”
“Yes. Sunset tonight. Cedric and Evan both insisted it be done together since they …” Words stick in my throat, lodged with my heart and the sense of impending tears I don’t want to shed any more. I drop into the chair and leave him to figure out the reasons on his own. I’m sure he can.
It’s the one thi
ng around here that isn’t complicated.
“Caitriona, I …” His voice falters, and he stands instead. “Excuse me for few minutes. I’m not quite awake and feel less than myself at the moment.”
Without another word, he disappears into the bathroom, the distinct sound of the lock clicking behind him. I could be angry over Dante’s cold distance, wave the emotional knife embedded in my heart that stabs me every time I close my eyes and see Oliver fall to the floor, cry ‘poor me’ and ‘how dare you’. But I watch the bathroom door, waiting for Corrin’s grandfather to collect his wits, wondering if the time you mourn the loss of a family member is multiplied by the time they spent in your life.
Twenty-one years with Uncle Thomas was everything to me.
Theo said Cedric turned Corrin over twenty-four hundred years ago.
The door opens, Dante stepping out with a resolute purpose etched in his features this time. “I am no longer running, Caitriona, not from who I am, nor who I was, not from anything. Yes, I have made mistakes, have wronged those around me, have not done you as right as I should, but I believe I am finally where I belong.”
His tousled hair, damp t-shirt collar, and plaid pajama pants steal his monolog’s intensity, and I grin. “Do you always have epiphanies while sleeping, or is it just while washing your face when you wake up?”
Dante is not amused. Theo would be.
“Not an epiphany, Caitriona,” he states in his calm, contemplative tone, more like himself than I’ve seen in recent days. Crossing the room, he sits across from me on the bed again, our eyes locked in a way reminding me of when we first met. “I promised never to hurt you. I promised to protect you, to protect those you love. I wanted to be everything to you.” The lock on our eyes dissipates, and his gaze drops to the floor. “And I failed you quite miserably in all aspects. My entire life I’ve waited for you, Caitriona, never knowing, but I have.”
It’s a compulsion to go to someone when they’re hurting, one I’ve long had, and I do, sitting next to him on the bed, resting my hand on his back, unsure how you comfort a demigod. “You expect more from yourself than anyone else does, Dante. You don’t know everything. You can’t be everything for everyone. You aren’t perfect. Give yourself a break.”
“Expect more from me.” He turns his head, peeking sideways at me. “Always expect more from me. Hold me to a higher standard than any other.”
“I just want to hold onto you, Dante.” I whisper the words, half-afraid of the road this will take me down as he looks up at me. “You poured enough of your blood into Oliver and Corrin, trying to save them; any normal person would have been dead ten times over. We watched over you for almost an entire day, waiting for you to wake.” The tears well up, and I blink them back, his fingers brush across my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I thought I might lose you, too.”
Remaining even in his tone, the blue intensifies in his eyes, boring into me rather than simply looking at me. It would be creepy if it weren’t Dante. In him, it’s beautiful. “I promised you a family that will not die, Caitriona, one that would not leave you. Corrin is gone.” He pauses, blue eyes softened by the threat of tears. “For now, Oliver is as well. But I will never leave you. Never.”
With a deep breath, I take his hand in mine, not surprised he intertwines our fingers, just as he did the first time he truly kissed me. “You also promised if I decided … that if the threat was too great, you wouldn’t hesitate when I asked.”
The way he looks at me and bites his lower lip, brows creasing as he does, I know he needs no further explanation to understand what I mean. “You’ve come so close to regaining the life you wanted. I can’t ask you to give it away, no matter …” His voice trails off, and a tear slips down his cheek. “No matter how badly you’re everything I want.”
“You aren’t asking me, Dante. I thought if I came to you, it would be because the war was too close and the risk too great. But we’re beyond risks and threats. I saw Corrin and Oliver die right in front of my eyes. I cried as I said goodbye and had to wash their blood off my hands.” I don’t blink away the tears as they come, and his match mine. “Tell me you’ll break that promise, Dante. Look me in the eye, and tell me there won’t be a next time. Tell me that tomorrow it won’t be Liam or Claaron … or Theo.”
His hand travels up my arm, slipping behind my neck; fingers gentle in the way he wraps my hair around them, pulling me close, meeting his forehead to mine. “I abide by my promises, Caitriona, but I beg of you one thing in return.”
I’m asking him to take away everything I know, make my reality disappear and replace it with everything he wanted, knowing he’ll live eternity with that lie, bearing an immeasurable guilt he places on himself with it. “Anything.”
Every jagged breath from this demigod reminds me of the responsibility that comes with unfathomable power, both his, and soon my own. “Caitriona, once you take my blood, the exchange complete,” finishing in nearly a whisper, he almost can’t say the words, “you will remember nothing, nothing of your feelings for Theo, nothing of this decision you make now, nothing more than the altered path of memories my blood replaces this life with—irrevocable eternal memories which are not your own.”
Taking a breath first, I whisper back, his face so close I feel the tears on his cheeks against mine. “I know.”
“If you cannot say yes to what I request of you …” He swallows hard, sounding unnerved by what he’s about to ask me. “I will understand, but I want this. I need this from you, Caitriona, please.” He pauses, taking a few shallow, unsteady breaths and I say nothing. “I wish to make love to you just once knowing you made the choice completely aware of who we both are in truth. I want to feel you in my arms without the influence of my blood; no lies in your head, the action be of your own free will. I desire to have you come undone beneath me simply because you are capable of responding to my touch in such ways. Alleviate some measure of guilt I bear in what I must take from you. Show me a seed of hope, to which I may cling. At least for a moment, you had once loved me, wanted me, spoke the words aloud you chose me above him.”
I’ve never heard such desperation from Dante, seen him so raw and exposed. “I believe it could have, would have been real, would it not?” His lips brush over mine, slow and tender. “Please, Caitriona. I want to make love to you as if the world may end around us; the stars fall from the sky at this very moment. Allow me this singular, timeless memory to hold of the real you then I shall give anything and everything you ask of me without question.”
My sweet Dante, more god than man, unafraid to express his innermost feelings, yet terrified of finding no acceptance, living too many millennia never truly belonging anywhere.
“When you asked me at the gala if I loved you more than Theo, I told you then, I love you differently. Yes, it would have been real, and it will be this time. Loving you differently doesn’t mean loving you less, Dante. I don’t love weakly. We both know I never fell in love with you, but I still love you fiercely. If this is the favor you want, I think you’re asking very little in return for what I’ve asked of you, but know if there were a thousand demigods or gods or whatever who could do this for me, you are the only one I would ever ask. I know what life I’m choosing to live with you, and I am choosing it, Dante.”
“Under duress.” His eyes fall to the floor, the words slipping out under his breath, but not slipping past me.
I refuse to mourn for what I’ve lost and what I will. I won’t watch Theo die the way I just watched Oliver. I won’t let him feel the devastating pain of seeing even one more of his brothers face death in the name of protecting me. I do love Dante, and only Dante and I together can protect all my dragons. Where the line crosses between selfless sacrifice into the realm of selfish gain, I’m not sure I know, maybe no one does, but I’ve thought this through enough for the both of us.
Grasping his face in my hands, I force him to look at me, wanting him to hear me, take my words to heart. “Dante, you
think too much.” A smile spreads rather shyly across his face for just a moment, and I almost ask why, but don’t want to end up debating this further. “Some things simply are what they are. Accept it.”
I don’t wait for him to say another word, wrapping my arms around his neck, running my fingers through his hair, moving closer, meeting my body to his, committing to the decision I’ve made, and press my lips to the sinfully sweet softness of Dante’s. Hesitation melts away, fingers tightening in my hair, one hand slipping down to the hem of my light sweater, gliding under the fabric, finding the small of my back, pulling me to him.
This isn’t the Dante I saw before, in the days when he was falling in love with me, romancing me with tender kisses, passionate playfulness, and heartfelt honesty. This is a kiss brimming with intensity, passion laced with unrequited desire, and a touch fueled by heart-wrenching need. “Caitriona.” Breathless, my name speaks volumes of insistent pleas.
Fingering the hem of his t-shirt and sliding it up, I can’t miss how his heart hammers, chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths as I reveal the smooth fair skin, taut over his beautiful body marked only by the delicately woven silver triquerta. “Relax.” There’s a flash of hesitation once again in his eyes before he consents, raising his arms to let me slide it off, and I notice he holds his breath, watching it fall to the floor. I pull my sweater over my head, amazed by the look in his eyes when I meet them again. “You act like you’ve never done this before.”
“I have not, not in this way. Never with a woman I loved rather than one who found herself dear to me in some incomparable measure to this.” Taking my hair in his hands, nose to mine, the taste of his lips brushing mine with each word, Dante whispers. “All the carnal knowledge I possess from countless lifetimes worth of years I’ve walked the earth do not hold a candle to the raging inferno ignited within me at the mere thought of knowing your body in every intimate way I so desire, Caitriona.”