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Samara was a miserable outpost, austere and strict, but in the moonlight it was almost charming.
There weren’t as many people wandering about, for one. There were still people keeping watch for any threat, still a patrol rovering the grounds, but only a fraction of the outpost’s manpower.
Less people out and about meant less noise, and at night the air was quiet, undisturbed. If Violet closed her eyes and pretended hard enough, she could imagine that she was far away from here, that her life hadn’t turned into whatever this was – secrets and lies, violence and treason, a man who loved and hurt her in equal measure.
He’d been saddled with a 15-hour shift today, extending well into the night. He hadn’t yet slipped back into his room, and Violet was lying in his bed, alone. No doubt this shift was another of Varrish’s attempts at making them miserable.
It was working.
Xaden’s quarters were modest, but tonight they were too big, too empty, and Violet felt so alone. She tossed and turned in his bed, unable to chase sleep despite the exhausting trip to Samara. Her joints had protested the entire flight, and she already knew she’d need to be careful in the morning.
Eventually she gave in to her restlessness. She ripped the blanket from her body and jumped out of bed, her skin crawling with unease.
Violet was out of his room in seconds. She made her way to one of the only open air areas in the fortress, a courtyard with stone benches and water fountain. Most officers only came here for a quick smoke break, and the fountain had dried up from years of poor maintenance.
It wasn’t the prettiest place, but it was peaceful. Violet stood propped against a wall, eyes closed, trying to calm herself down.
Xaden found her there, alone in the courtyard. He’d creeped up without a sound, but he let his shields down an inch to make her aware of his presence a few seconds before he reached for her.
A hand cupped her cheek, and Violet forced her eyes open. Xaden stood next to her, his expression unreadable.
“What’s going on inside that mind of yours, Violence?” He asked in a low voice, just as careful as she was not to make any noise.
Xaden’s hand was warm on her face and Violet was tempted for a second to learn into the comforting touch before her brain remembered that she was mad at him.
“You want me to tell you what I’m thinking?” She asked, and when Xaden nodded, she said, anger seeping in her voice: “I’m thinking that you have no right to ask me that. Not when you’re dead set on hiding everything from me.”
Xaden let his hand drop from her face. Violet felt the loss with a pang in her heart. “We’ve been through this, Violet. All you need to do is ask me.”
“Right,” she muttered. “This again. I have to do all the work, and you get to congratulate yourself for being honest towards me.”
The words were acerbic, pointed, and they landed true. Xaden closed his eyes and inhaled sharply.
“Please, Violet,” he said, and his voice sounded raw. “We can fight tomorrow. You can yell at me in the morning. Not tonight.”
Violet wanted to argue. She wanted to tell him no, you don’t get to decide when I get to be mad at you, actually, but Xaden looked exhausted, and his shoulders were more tense than usual, and he almost never said please.
Her heart was weak, and she felt just as tired as he looked. Violet blew out a breath and reluctantly nodded.
“Not tonight,” she agreed. “But I’m still angry at you.”
Xaden exhaled. It sounded a lot like relief.
“You love me, too,” he said. It was a reminder, a question, and a confession all at once.
His gaze was too intense. Violet looked away.
“Sometimes I wish I didn’t,” she said, but she knew the words weren’t right as soon as she’d let them slip past her lips. She sighed and shook her head. Xaden had gone rigid, next to her, so she smoothed a hand down his hair in apology. “No, it’s not that. Of course I love you. I don’t regret loving you. I just — sometimes I wish we weren’t us.”
She worked her lips in silence, unsure how to explain how she felt to Xaden. “You told me that what we had wasn’t easy. That we didn’t want easy. You’re right, of course, but…”
Violet shivered, then, feeling the night air against her mostly uncovered skin. She’d left his room in her nightgown, which hadn’t been a smart move, but Violet hadn’t been thinking properly.
Xaden stepped closer to her and rubbed her arms, offering her some warmth. “But?” He asked, carefully.
“But does it have to be this hard?”
Violet hated how weak her voice sounded, how fragile she felt.
They stayed silent for a moment, watching each other, both of them hurt and unsure. Then, Xaden held a hand out and waited for her to take it.
Violet stared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Come on, Violence.” Slowly, he slipped his hand in hers and tugged her forward. Violet followed.
He led her to the center of the courtyard. There, he stopped and turned to face her. He pulled her closer.
“Xaden—”
“We can pretend,” he said, “just for tonight. If you want, we can pretend that this is easy.”
Violet looked at him once more. In the pale moonlight it was as if the gold in his eyes had disappeared, swallowed by the onyx.
Xaden let go of her hand to encircle her waist, and then he started to move, bringing her along with him.
“What are you doing?” Violet asked again.
“What does it look like? We’re dancing.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Isn’t this what ordinary couples do?”
“I’m fairly certain they don’t.” Not in the middle of the night, not without any music, and certainly not in a fortress.
“Play along, Violence.”
They moved together. It couldn’t be called dancing, what they were doing, Xaden bent awkwardly over her so that Violet could put her hands around his neck, moving along to a melody they couldn’t hear, but they were close, and they were alone, and for once there was no one and nothing interrupting them.
It was enough.
Violet swayed against Xaden, feeling the hard lines of his body against hers. He was almost at eye-level with her, hunched like he was. She wasn’t used to it, but she liked it, liked that he was doing this for her, despite how uncomfortable it must be for him to hold that position.
Violet exhaled out a laugh. Xaden pulled back, just a little, and raised a brow at her.
“We look ridiculous,” she said, and she couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled past her lips. “You look ridiculous.”
Xaden’s lips stretched into a grin. “A small price to pay.”
He kissed her cheek. His lips stayed pressed against her skin for a beat too long and when he did pull back, it was reluctantly. The gesture struck her as so tender that Violet didn’t know what to do with herself. She looked away and leaned into his chest so he wouldn’t see her too-wide smile, her burning cheeks.
“Feel better, Violence?” He asked. With her head against his chest, she heard the rumble of his voice.
“I’m still mad at you,” she reminded him, “but yes. I feel better.”
She didn’t want to tell him she’d felt better the second he’d appeared in the courtyard, that she had missed him so much she couldn’t bear the thought of being in his room, in his bed, wrapped in sheets that smelled like him, without him there as well. That, for some reason, made her feel too raw to share.
The grin faded. Xaden looked at her seriously, now, but he waited before speaking, as if he were debating something in his mind. “Violence?”
Violet hummed in answer.
“When we fight tomorrow –” his lips twisted into a grimace, and he looked away. “After we fight.”
Violet waited, but Xaden said nothing. He was still looking out into the distance.
“Yes?” She prompted.
Tell me you’ll come back to me, he said through the bond. His hands gripped her waist tighter, and he turned his eyes back to her, staring unflinchingly.
This demand jolted her and comforted her all at once. It was a relief, to know that he also needed her to reassure him sometimes, that this was hard for him as well. Xaden spent most of his time acting unbothered by whatever life threw at him, and though there was the bond, though he’d shown her multiple times what she meant to him – sometimes it was nice to just realize it once more.
“Always,” Violet breathed out.
Xaden nodded, once, then brushed his lips against her. Again, he lingered, and again the gesture made something flutter in her stomach.
He pulled back, brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. “Ready for bed?”
Violet nodded. She kissed Xaden’s cheek, mirroring his own move. It surprised him. She could tell by the way he blinked at her, slow and careful, like he was trying his best not to react. She giggled, and the sound resonated in the courtyard and floated up to the sky.
They went to bed together and fell asleep facing each other, Violet resting her head on Xaden’s chest, Xaden with his face buried in her hair.
They’d fight tomorrow, and they’d be angry with each other, and then Violet would have to leave and fly back to Basgiath. But she’d be back in two weeks, and he’d visit her in the meantime. Maybe there would be more stolen moments in between, hidden by the night, where the world would fade away and it would be just them. Moments where Xaden kissed her softly and tenderly, moments where Violet would feel soothed, cared for, loved.
It was enough.