Heir To The Iron Crown: Dyrith

8 - Áttunda

If my anxiety wasn't already eating me up, it was now off the charts. I was a breath away from a panic attack but everything seemed frozen in time.

I didn't even fathom the severity of the situation as bad as Valente did, but by the look on his face I could tell something very bad could happen to us.

Sgriosaire was our biggest enemy since the day I was found. I just had the most vague conversation with their leaders this morning, and also probably gave something away.

I couldn't risk going back to Fathilagt now, knowing I was the reason they attacked my pack in the first place. What if they came back? What if they knew who they were looking for this time?

As my breathing started becoming irregular and loud, I realized I was not going to be able to breathe soon enough.

The anxiety was turning into panic and Valente's face of absolute worry became unclear through the onslaught of my tears.

The loss we suffered before I left Fathilagt all came rushing back and I knew I couldn't have anyone else get hurt for my cause, especially now that I knew for sure that it was my cause.

As my sobs racked my body, I felt his touch on my arms, and then on my neck. He didn't say a word, but his touch alone seemed to break through my walls of panic.

He caressed my skin, rubbing soft circles over his mark on my nape.

"Rayne," he whispered.

I heard him. I heard his voice reach me although it was still quite far away.

I turned to look at him through my teary eyes, wondering how to tell him I couldn't go back now.

That I truly was the curse everyone said I was. I truly was the horrid curse that brought Fathilagt death and sorrow.

But the way he looked at me.

The way Valente looked at me said everything else.

I couldn't calm myself down, I needed to get away.

I put my hand on the door handle, not knowing what to do, what to think, or where to go, and he reached out to take my hand in his, grip tightened.

"My butterfly," he whispered. "I won't let you get away from me that easy."

He took both my hands in his, pulling them towards himself so I could turn to face him.

He smiled at me warmly, a complete contrast to his demeanor a minute ago, and held my face in his hands again.

He kissed me.

His kiss was gentle, but it was enough to make me feel a million things run through my body, and all of them were so good.

It wasn't a kiss you'd expect between mates who met again after years of being apart, and after their bond was torn in the worst of circumstances.

It was as if we woke up on a Sunday in the same bed and had been together for a lifetime with an eternity to go.

It was as if I never left. It was simple, yet he made me feel how much he still loved me in the soft way he held me.

I needed this calm. I was burning, my body was on fire and Valente was a cool river for me to step into. I was instantly doused, he'd given me back control of my body.

I kissed him back.

I'd missed him.

I could tell what he wanted to say by his gentle yet firm, almost possessive fingers on my mark.

He wasn't going to let me get away from him that easy.