To Love a King (Court of Annwyn) (13 page)

“Of course I do. But what I want doesn’t matter.”

“And what about what I want?” She took another step back, aware she was moving closer to the ocean; it would be lapping at her heels in a moment. He wasn’t taking her to Annwyn today. There were things she had to do. She had to speak to her parents. How long had it been since she last called them?

“It’s bigger than us. You’ve seen my life; you’ve seen the news. You would condemn two worlds?” He took a couple steps forward, his gaze flicking between the ocean and her.

“No. But this is about us. It has always been about us. You have just refused to see it because you’re scared.” Cool water slapped against her ankle. She took another step back and it swirled around her legs. “You are either there for me or you aren’t. I can’t save the world on my own and neither can you. But don’t you dare tell me this isn’t personal. Don’t tell me that it’s for the greater good. Tell me you love me, that you need me. That we can do this and everything will be fine.” She kept walking backwards, away from Felan and into the ocean, her eyes filled with tears. “Just once, prove that you will do what it takes to have me because you want me, not because I’m a pawn in your game.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. If he was going to take her from everything, he had to promise her something.

***

Felan watched her walk into the ocean, the choppy surface steely gray beneath a cold sky. It might be summer, but he was sure a storm was rolling in. He took a step forward, the edge of the water only a step away from his boots.

Jacqui watched him. “If you want me, you have to come and get me.”

It was one thing to admit to needing Jacqui for Annwyn’s sake and another to admit that he needed her—that without her it was like living in a permanent winter. In Annwyn, love was seen as a weakness. He had tried for so long to avoid entanglements, or anything that could be construed as a weakness, that he couldn’t find the words. He’d told her that he loved her many years ago. That hadn’t changed. But when he looked at her, up to her hips in the sea, he knew that wasn’t what she was looking for. She was forcing him to prove it. His word was no longer enough.

“I want you. I have always wanted you, and only you, by my side.” It was Jacqui who had made him realize what love was, and despite what his mother said, love was more pure than power—and much harder to obtain.

“Seven years ago, you were planning this. You always knew, yet you didn’t tell me.” She swiped angrily at the tears on her cheeks.

“I would have.”

“When? The day you decided it was time to go?” A wave rose up and hit her back. She gasped and stumbled, but didn’t go under. She was almost waist-deep in water, and he wasn’t sure what to do. How much further would she go?

“No. I would’ve done things differently.”

“Do you know what it’s like to love someone and have them always talking of duty, of always putting something else first?”

“Do you know what it’s like to always have the duty, to grow up knowing what is expected? People telling you that you don’t have the luxury of love. That a good Queen is the best you can hope for, saying that love means nothing?” He took a step forward, the ocean lapped at his boot. He suppressed the shudder. “That because I wanted more, it somehow made me less worthy of being King?”

Her lips parted and he watched her expression change. She was getting a taste of the expectation he’d lived with for centuries. And it sucked, to use her words.

“I am fighting for my life, my right to rule, for Annwyn and the seven billion people on this side of the veil. If I fuck up, if I let Sulia sink her fingernails any deeper into Annwyn, then what is happening now will be nothing. I’m trying to prevent a war. I’m hoping that you love me enough to understand, enough to share the responsibility. I don’t want to fight you too. I don’t have that much strength.”

“I don’t want you to fight me. I want you to fight
for
me.”

“I came back. I’m ankle-deep in ocean. What more do you want from me?”

She looked at him. There wasn’t that much distance between them, a dozen paces, but it might as well have been half a world.

“I want you. I want to feel loved. Not desired or required. You say you love me but never show it.”

He went to argue with her but stopped. She was right. He was so used to moving strategically that he was always thinking ahead. He never let his heart guide him—he didn’t trust it. With deliberate movements, he unbuttoned his heavy coat and tossed it onto the sand. He unbuckled his sword and threw it onto his coat. The cup of life he kept on his belt. He couldn’t afford to let it out of his sight or have it fall into the wrong hands. She wanted proof? He’d give her proof.

As the water eddied around his ankles, he bottled up the fear and took another step forward. Her eyes widened as she watched. She obviously hadn’t expected him to come after her.

“It doesn’t matter where you go. I will come after you. Not because of Annwyn, but because I can’t live without you. I learned that over the past few years.” He braced himself as a wave slapped against his thighs. His heart was beating faster than it had in battle. He’d rather face a dozen Greys again. This was horrible. He wanted to run back to the safety of the beach and the dry sand.

Cold and wet, his trousers clung to his legs. “I love you. I don’t know how to prove it so you believe me.”

Three more steps until he reached her. He could do this.

“You have never even asked me if this is what I want. You just assumed I would say yes.”

“Fine. Will you marry me and rule Annwyn with me?” Another wave hit him. He was sure it was getting choppier. Would it rise up and swallow him? He reached out and clasped her hand. “Please, Jacqui. I have lived for centuries and have only loved you. And even if I’m not good at showing it, believe me when I say only you have ever broken my heart and made me feel like I was dying.” He pulled her into his arms, and she cried against his shoulder.

“I never wanted Annwyn—only you.” Her breath came in sobs that shook her body.

“I know. You have me. You had me from the moment I first saw you.” He began carrying her back to the beach. He wanted to be out of the water as soon as possible. When the water was no longer sucking at his legs as if trying to keep him, he placed Jacqui down. “Is that a yes?”

Please, let it be a yes
. He wasn’t sure he could stomach taking her across the veil if she really refused. He’d always thought she’d come around and see what needed to be done, that she was more than a waitress, more than just a mortal woman. She was the one who would save both worlds…and make him happy for the rest of his life. He only hoped he could make her happy.

Her arms remained around his neck. In the silence, the ocean mimicked the beating of his heart, a thudding that resonated through the earth that had consequences that reached far beyond the shore and into deeper, darker depths.

She nodded. “Yes.”

He kissed her before she could change her mind or add extra clauses or make extra demands he knew he’d agree to. He just wanted to enjoy the moment, the one he’d feared for so long.

Her lips were cool and salty, but her mouth was warm, and she was pressed against him, his arms around her waist. His tongue dipped and tasted, and he wanted to sink to the sand with her now and hold on to this for as long as possible—to pretend that he didn’t have a hundred and one things to do before the Court meeting he’d called in haste.

But she’d said yes; it would all work out. The iron of her necklace pressed against him, and heated his flesh, his shirt not offering enough protection from the metal. It would start burning him soon.

The breeze chilled his wet clothing. She shivered in his arms.

“Let’s get out of the cold,” she murmured against his lips.

He pulled a glamour and heat surrounded them. “How’s that?”

Warm air danced across his skin. He eased his hold on her and led her to where he’d thrown down his coat before going after her. He spread it out on the sand, moved his sword aside, and then sat. The sun was setting over the ocean, staining it red.

“You’ve hidden us.”

“Yes. I thought the people who were watching had seen enough.” He pulled her down to join him. She sat between his legs, her back to his chest, and for the moment he could relax and pretend he had nowhere else to be and nothing to do. He kissed the side of her neck and let his hand slide up her thigh, her black pants clinging to her legs like a second skin.

“It’s a public beach.” But she tilted her head and didn’t stop his hand from sliding under her shirt.

“Not anymore it isn’t. This little bit is ours, and only ours.”

“I thought you couldn’t stay?”

“I can’t stay the night.” He cupped her breast, her nipple peaking and pressing against his palm. “No matter how much I want to.”

“You wanted to last time as well.”

He held his breath. Was she saying no again? “I want you, Jacqui. When I’m with you, I can forget about everything else for those moments.”

“I want you too.” She twisted around and kissed him. Her fingers traced along his jaw. “I shouldn’t have kicked you out last time.”

“I needed to fight that battle.” It would have happened eventually anyway.

Her hand slid to his side where the drinking horn hung. “What’s this?”

“Something I am guarding.”

She turned and looked at him, one eyebrow raised. He had to stop acting as though he couldn’t trust anyone, but old habits were hard to break.

“The cup of life, a fairy artifact used for healing.” Amongst other things. In truth, he should have returned it to his father, but Gwyn hadn’t asked and Felan hadn’t volunteered. His father knew he’d need it and he couldn’t risk Sulia getting it.

Jacqui nodded. For a few minutes they watched the sun sink, as if swallowed by the ocean.

“How far would you have waded out?” He kissed the back of her neck.

“I don’t know. I didn’t plan it. I just didn’t want you to take me to Annwyn there and then.”

“It will be soon.” Too soon and yet not soon enough. He needed to tell her so much more, and yet he didn’t want to break the moment.

“I know.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “Is there sunset in Annwyn?”

“Yes. But not like this. We can come back here occasionally.”

“But I’ll have to live there.” She traced shapes on his leg, the heat of her fingers warming his skin through his wet pants.

“Yes…you won’t age and the people you know will.”

“They’ll die.”

“So will you, eventually, but not for hundreds of years.”

“Almost immortal.” She drew in a breath. “What if we don’t last forever?”

He’d wondered the same thing. Love wasn’t common in Annwyn, but he had to put his faith in something and believe that there was more to life than just gambling and deals and games. Love seemed like the best thing. “I guess we have to try. I hope we do. I want you to be happy. I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy.”

“And what about you?” She half turned, so she could look at him again.

“Being with you makes me happy. Seeing the end of winter will make me happy. Beyond that, I don’t know right now.” He didn’t need to think that far ahead, not when there was so much to do before then. He cupped her face and kissed her slowly. Around Jacqui, he’d never had to be anything more than himself. She made him remember everything that was good and worth saving, and she had found a part of him that was worth holding on to—his heart.

He drew back, knowing that while she’d agreed to marry him, she didn’t entirely know what she’d be giving up. It was more than just the mortal world. “Do you remember when I told you fairies have no soul?”

She nodded and watched him closely.

“Did you ever think I was less of a person because of it?”

“No…” She spoke carefully, as if she could sense something was coming.

His hand moved against her hip. For a moment he didn’t want to say anything, in case she pushed him away again, but the deal was already made. It was better he tell her now than later. Later, they needed to be worrying about the lack of heir.

“You can’t keep your soul in Annwyn. A human with a soul would suffer unbearably and end up being tricked out of it.”

“What are you saying?” She was frowning now.

“When you become Queen, you have to give up your soul and become like us.”

“But it’s part of me. Isn’t it? Won’t I die without it?”

He shook his head. “Your soul would heal Annwyn, and in exchange, you get the long life of a fairy.”

She was quiet for a moment, the sound of the waves filling his ears as he waited for it to sink in. “And what happens when I die?”

“I don’t know what kind of afterlife fairies get. Maybe none, as it is the human soul that goes on either in Elysia or the river of the damned.”

“I lose my chance at heaven or hell, or whatever the afterlife is.”

“You lose your chance at the mortal afterlife.”

“You should have told me all of this before. Like years ago—or even yesterday. Ten minutes ago, before I agreed to be your wife.”

He looked away; even watching the ocean was better than seeing the accusation in her eyes. “I know. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

“How about something like: if you want to marry me, you have to give up your soul?”

“I didn’t want you to say no. I couldn’t bear hearing that. It’s why I never asked you before and why I just assumed you would be my wife regardless. I thought our love would be enough.”

“You’re asking me to give up everything for you.” Her fingers pressed against his leg.

“I’m offering you everything—a life beyond the mortal span, two worlds, and my eternal love.” He tilted her chin so she had to look at him. “I love you.” He didn’t want to have to remind her that it was too late to back out, that she’d made the deal and he had to hold her to it. Or would Jacqui make him break his word again?

She closed her eyes. “I love you too, but I am the one making all the sacrifices to be with you.”

He bit back the laugh. She saw going to Annwyn and living for centuries as a sacrifice. “What would you have me give up? If I could give up the throne and know we could live in peace, then I would, but it wouldn’t last. My lifespan is so much longer than yours.”