Page 97 of Heart’s Rescue

“Talk to each other,” Lythienne says. “Rowan, tell the girl what you like about her. Stars, can we give them some privacy, please?”

There’s a feeling of magic in the air, a soft, warm rustle, and then an illusion rises in the air around us. It’s a shimmering pastel curtain, enclosing us and hiding us. Rowan sighs; his shoulders relax under my arms. I turn from the illusion to Rowan, and he catches my lips with a gentle kiss. I lean in to him as the soft, warm press of magic wraps around us both.

“Arryn,” he whispers. “There’s so much more to you than I first thought.”

I pull away, and he brushes my cheek with his finger. His eyes are soft; the magic swirling around us makes them look almost like they’re glowing.

“When I first met you,” he says, “I thought you’d die if I left you alone in the forest. But you wouldn’t have. You’re so strong and so smart. You would have been just fine without me.”

He kisses me again, gently, just a brush of his lips against mine, and my heart feels like it’s burning, like it’s overflowing. Magic is so thick around us that I can feel it whispering across my skin, as supple and heavy as a velvet cloak.

“Rowan,” I whisper. “You’re— you’re the first person to see me.”

He laughs, soft and deep in his throat. “You were invisible, huh?”

“I was!” I answer. “All my life, I’ve been trying to bend myself to fit into this shape, this shell of an acceptable daughter. An acceptable lady. You’re the first person I’ve ever met who wasn’t at all interested in that acceptable lady. You’re the only person who ever wanted to see what was underneath.”

Another shiver traces its way across my skin. Magic burns inside my chest.

“You’re the only person who didn’t want me to be someone else,” I whisper.

Rowan laughs again. Magic is pulled so tightly around us it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.

“Of course, I don’t want you to be someone else,” Rowan says. “You’re the only person who’s ever been able to read the charts. I showed them to so many people. Phaedron, Charay, anyone who’d listen at the World’s End pub. No one got it. No one but you.”

Our eyes meet. Magic moves inside me now, as hot as the shot I’d taken with Rowan and Phaedron in their cabin. My heart aches; my chest feels too small to hold it. Every part of my body is filled with the heat of magic, with the heat of being this close to Rowan, having his body next to mine. The ache of the magic mixes with desire and yearning, with those three lonely, desperate nights I’d spent locked in the palace of the Lands Below, those nights when I’d been so horribly certain Rowan was dead and I was now alone in all worlds.

Magic sweeps through me, carrying me forward, pulling me toward Rowan. His mouth presses to mine, his hands tighten around my back, and suddenly our lips and tongues are dancing again, dancing across the royal ballroom while the entire court watches. I’m gasping against him, trembling in his arms, as magic cracks open my heart.

And Rowan is there. I can feel him inside me, his dark, cold magic, his humor like a blade held at the world’s throat. The ferocity of his love and loyalty to his brother, and the fear that is love’s shadow. His certainty that he would always be alone because Phaedron was the better of them, Phaedron was the one who would find and keep love.

I feel myself inside Rowan, my fire magic surging forward, bringing all the intensity of my desire to become something acceptable, something deserving of love. And the rage that shadowed my every effort, my incendiary anger at a world that told me I was broken and wrong. Everything pours out of my heart, all of the shame and outrage and stubborn pride I’ve tried my entire life to suppress.

It’s horrific. Cold fear washes down my spine; I’ve never felt so naked in my life. This is what Mother tried so hard to hide from the world. This is why I am such a disappointment.

I gasp and try to pull away, but the heart magic has us both in its embrace and I can barely move. My eyes snap open.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and the words are nothing compared to the horror that’s just spilled from my heart. “I— I’m—”

“No,” Rowan whispers. “No, don’t be sorry. I love you.”

I’m only dimly aware of the tears flooding my vision. My muscles go limp as I stop struggling and let the magic tie me to Rowan.

“I love you too,” I whisper, but he doesn’t need the words. He can feel my love pouring out of my heart, twisted with anger and fear and pride. It’s a fierce kind of love, and it’s tangled with love for the Lands Below, for the freedom I discovered down here, for the way Rowan treats me like a friend and partner and not like a porcelain figurine to be kept on a shelf.

Rowan's love flows back to me, and it’s just as fierce and tangled and messy. Love for a woman who surprised him. Love for someone who understands. Love for someone who is not afraid.

I close my eyes, let my head fall against his shoulder, and give my heart to Rowan.