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“If we are where I think we are, there should be an old rebellion safe house nearby with a cave behind it for the dragons to hide.”
I was never more grateful for my connection to Sloane than now. We knew that there was a blizzard rolling in over Tyrrendor, but it was supposed to hit the area by nightfall, not during midday in the middle of our patrol flight.
I know that Sloane and Thoirt are flying basically next to us, but I can't see shit. At this point, I can't even see Cath's head, and I'm sitting on his back.
“It's the best shot we have; we can't stay in the air much longer.”
According to Cath, there's already ice forming at his wings, and given Thoirt's smaller size, she won't fare any better. We need to find shelter, and we need to find it now.
Luckily for us, we are exactly where Sloane thought we were. That's my girl. And after another short flight near the ground, the visibility a tiny bit better, we dismount so our dragons can hide in the cave behind the house.
I can feel the wards surrounding the small cottage before I can even see it, which is pretty late due to the snowstorm raging around us, but Sloane just grips my wrist and pulls me through them. They felt much more powerful than I expected them to be after being abandoned for such a long time.
Once inside, I quickly summon a small mage light to illuminate the room, and I'm greeted by a thick layer of dust on every piece of furniture and surface as well as cobwebs in each corner. Time really stood still here. But we're lucky once more when I spot some dry wood next to the fireplace and make quick work of getting the fire going. We're wet and cold to the bones, but the effect of the fire is immediate.
I can hear Sloane sigh next to me and extend her hands towards the flames. I'm doing the same, trying my best to keep my teeth from chattering. I've never been so cold in my entire life. Not even Jack fucking Barlowe draining me and leaving his ugly handprints on my forearm felt this cold.
“I just need a few minutes, then I’ll look around for dry clothes and try to make some heating runes for us, but my hands are so cold.”
I know Sloane is using our connection because it's too hard to talk out loud right now with all the shivering. I'm glad I always pack a spare pair of gloves when I'm with her, knowing she's notorious for forgetting them. Not that they made that much of a difference in this weather, but it's better than nothing.
We sat in silence for a while, letting the fire bring back the feelings in our hands, before Sloane got up in search of anything else to wear. She comes back with a shirt for each of us as well as some pants that are almost too tight on me, but it's better than what we had before.
After we changed and warmed ourselves for another good half an hour, Sloane felt good enough to set up the delicate runes. I hate myself for not being able to help. I got better at runes thanks to Sloane's help, but it would take me much, much longer to set up a heating rune, let alone two. And I don't know how successful I would be, with how much I'm still shaking. It feels like my very bones are frozen solid.
I can't help the deep groan that escapes my lips once I'm holding the rune Sloane made in my hands. It's a different kind of warmth compared to the fireplace, and I can finally feel myself relaxing, seeing that Sloane has a similar expression on her face the second she activates her own rune. I will never not be impressed by how easy it looks when Sloane is creating even the most difficult runes. She's just a natural in that department.
I hear a rather loud noise from the back of the cottage before hearing a triumphant “I knew it!” coming from Sloane. A few moments later, she joined me in the small kitchen, where I started to prepare the small rations we packed for our patrol. We were supposed to be back for dinner, but I always bring a bit of food with me, just in case something like today happens. And to Sloane's amusement and now delight, I packed the same amount in her pack.
I turn to her, raising a brow at the cans she's carrying. “What did you find, and why does it sound like you fought the cabinet for it?”
She's giving me that small pout I love so much as an initial answer. “I secured us some pea stew, dried jerky, and whatever this here is.” She gives the can in her hand a good shake. “Probably another sort of stew. The label isn't readable anymore. And just for your information, the cabinet door was stuck, and I had to use a bit more…force to open it.”
“And by more force you mean…?
”She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “I broke it, okay? It's not that anyone will be complaining anyway, and if we're being technical, it's kind of my own cabinet, and as the owner, I don't care.”
I stopped chopping the vegetables I brought us and turned to her. Finding her sitting on the kitchen counter. “What do you mean?” I have a good guess, but I don't want to push her. We talked about a lot of things from our pasts, but not our parents. Not beyond that first night she stayed over after Cath got hurt.
She's biting her lower lip. Her telltale sign that she's struggling to find her words or her resolve to speak them out loud. Sensing her struggle, I walk over to her, gently parting her legs so I can stand between them, cupping her face in my hands. I still can't comprehend that she's so open to much touch. Not afraid of what my signet could do. “Hey.” I whisper. “It's okay. You don't have to tell me.”
It's true. While I yearn to learn more of her past, the good as the bad memories, given she's my fiancé, I would never push her. And if she's never comfortable enough for this, I'm fine with that too. I'm haunted by my own ghosts and completely understand her situation.
She shakes her head just a bit, her hand lightly holding onto mine.
“It's an old rebellion safe house, as I said before, but before that, it was my family's house. My grandparents built it. That's why I'm in the wards. I mean, they are expanded to all the rebellion children, but I was in them way before that. We used to come here whenever my mom was granted a longer leave.”
I just nodded, showing her I'm listening if she wants to continue. “The shirt and pants? They are my parents. They left them here so they don't always needed to bring luggage. There are some old clothes of Liam and me in there too.” A small sob escapes her, and I pull her closer to me.
“Do you want to tell me what you did up here back in the day?”
Sloane leans back a bit again to watch my face. “I feel awful talking about my childhood, knowing how bad yours was.
”It was my turn to shake my head. “Don't be. Just because I hadn't the easiest time doesn't mean I don't want to hear about yours. I want to know how you grew up.”
“And I mean it." I want to devour every crumb you will gift me with. Just because our childhoods, or more like our entire lives, are opposites, we're in this together now; we are a team. We're not alone anymore.”
That earns me a small smile while her eyes are glassy.
“You know that my mom was a rider. A powerful one. And one of the closest people to Fen, so Liam and I basically grew up with Xaden and Bodhi. Garrick too because his dad was close to Fen, just like Imogen's parents. So it was always the six of us, especially with how close we were in age. My dad was a healer, one of the best ones Aretia had, but it was when my parents were together that they really shined. Like, of course, they had their opinions, both of them being stubborn and not easy to let it drop, but they always made it work, and they never got into a fight with Liam or me nearby.”
I chuckle lightly. “Stubborn, huh? Wonder where you get that from.” Sloane truly was the most headstrong person I've ever met.
“Haha.” She deadpanned. “No, but seriously, they taught us that our emotions aren't a bad thing. That if we want to laugh, we laugh. If we want to cry, that's no sign of weakness, but it's strength that we can still feel something in this unfair world. I can't count the times my dad just picked up my mother from her chair just to dance a silly dance with her. Or how he laughed so much, he started to grunt because of a joke my mom told us. But most of all, they told us to love with all we have, should we ever be lucky enough to find the one. They always hugged us or each other, prepped us with kisses, or stood in our garden, just kissing each other. I actually loved to watch them being alone. It was so pure and real even after all those years; even when they knew that this was it, they only loved louder until their last breaths.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, then another and another. I caught them all with my lips, each one a promise to be that one person for her. I hold her as long as she takes to gather herself.
“You know, one of the many reasons I love you, Sloane, is that you don't hide your feelings. It's always written across your face. And that makes you the glorious exception in this war. And you helped me get better at showing my emotions. I was raised to be as emotionless as one could be, and you removed that stick from my ass.”
A small snort left her lips, and it's one of my favorite sounds. She mentioned her father grunting, but she's good at that too.
“That stick sat really deep; I was afraid I would break you before getting the stick out.” Her voice was still small, but at least a bit of humor was back in it.”
“It was a close call. But I'm glad you helped me. You know how my father is and how he believes people should behave. I don't remember my mother, but I always thought that he was different at some point, so she fell in love with him. But honestly? At this point, I can't see that he was ever different, and I wonder if my mother was the same or if he just wanted a child he could pass his legacy on to, and that's all I ever was supposed to be.”
My throat tightens as the words leave my lips. It's a thought I had for a long time, because why else would my mother never look for me? If she never cared for me, just as my father never did, it would make sense for her to just disappear. If she never felt any love for me or my father, it would be easy to just walk away, like Riorson's mother did.
It was Sloane’s hand cupping my cheeks that stopped my spiraling.
“Hey. Don't even think about that. Even if it would be the truth, it doesn't matter. You are your own person. You decide how you want to be, no one else.”
“I know. But I can't help but wonder how my life would have been with more warmth in it.”
Sloane nods. “But you had Violet and her dad. Did they help a bit?”
I know what she's really asking. To be open and vulnerable just like she was. Not as payback for her honesty, but because she wants to know as much about me as I do about her. And truth be told. She is the first person to ever be interested in me. So I need to give her that.
I bury my face into her still damp hair, my voice muffled when I speak. “To a degree. It was a nice distraction. But since Brennan is older than us, we never got a real bond. I looked up to him as a big brother; I admired him and wanted to be like him, and while we spent time together before he entered the quadrant, he never was as close to me as I was to him. Hell, he didn't even talk to me when we arrived in Aretia and I learned that he survived. I just never mattered to him. Mira was similar; I think she saw too much of my father in me. Yes, she sent Violet to find me after she crossed the parapet, but that was due to lack of alternatives. Looking back, I never really fit in with the Sorrengails; I just didn't want to see it growing up. I'm glad that Asher was teaching me alongside Violet, but it was like I was a puzzle piece that came from a different puzzle with a similar shape. Nowadays, I would almost say that Lilith is the one with the highest opinion of me, especially after I proved that I'm nothing like my father and could do the “wrong thing” for the right reason.”
I felt Sloane slowly running a hand up and down my neck, knowing how the motion always calms me down.
“And Violet?”
I thought for a moment. “I think I always cared more about her than she did for me. And not just because of her condition. I know I fucked up big time with her, but even before that. We just reunited after I watched my friends die for an entire year, some in more traumatizing ways than others, and she never really asked about me or what I've been through. I know I don't have the right to be mad at her, but I just thought we were best friends, but I always gave more than she could. I will never not love her as a friend, and I'll gladly be her bodyguard now, being the duchess and all, but yeah, it wasn't just supposed to be that I fit in.”
Sloane just held me tight, knowing that this means more to me than any words she could have said. After a while, I feel more calm and lean back to place a kiss against her forehead.
“What a pair we are; we're quite the opposite in almost every way, and still here we are.”
She nods, leaning against my face, gently running her nose against mine. “What a pair indeed. But I think because we grew up so differently, both before and after the rebellion, we are as good of a team as we are. Like I said, my parents always did better when they were together, and so do we. And we do have enough similarities to make this work. Besides, what is that old saying? Opposites attract, and I'm very attracted to you. Don't you think I didn't see your rolled-up sleeves while you chopped the food?"
That makes me smile; she just keeps having this effect on me. She pulls me out of my thoughts without effort.“
Of course you noticed that. But you know what I noticed? Your stomach is rumbling and sounding like our dragons. If you feel better, I would continue to cook our meal. It's not the three-course dinner I promised I would cook for you, but still.”
“Can I keep sitting here and watch you?”
“Me or my forearms?”
“Why not both?" I need to make the most of this blizzard.”
“You are so pragmatic.”
She smiles brightly at me. “And you love me for it.”
And that I do.
After finishing our dinner, and I'm sure at one point, the hunger in Sloane's eyes didn't have anything to do with the stew, she showed me around the small house. She showed me the room she and Liam shared and her, in her own words, ridiculous favorite flower dress from back then. Which I'll make sure to pack for her so she has a memory of this house, to her parents' bedroom where a small stack of books about runes, healing, and flowers are collecting dust. I make a mental note to come back here with Sloane to get them as well.
Just as we are about to head down to the living room again, do I spot a small frame completely covered by dust in the hallway. I gently plugged it from the wall and used my sleeve to clear it. And my heart stops for a moment when Sloane, probably not older than 10, is smiling at me. The same golden hair, untamed, flowing down her back, and sky blue eyes squinting because she's grinning so much. Next to her is what can only be Liam; they really can't deny that they are siblings. Left to Sloane stands a man. Laughing wholeheartedly in the painting, and his features are so similar to Liam's. To Liam's right is a woman, and I swear she looks like Sloane will for sure in a few years, with a red dragon behind them. The painting almost looks alive with the love and happiness radiating off of them.
This. This is what a family should look like. And I'm glad that Sloane got to experience this even when I never had.
But we are our own small family now with our dragons and our friends…well, her friends that basically adopted me as soon as we became a thing to the public.
Sloane tears up the second she sees the painting and hugs it close to her chest, saying that she didn't know it was here, thinking it was burned in Aretia. Telling me how much it means to her that I found this. Before hugging me too, the painting and the memories between us. But not in a negative way, but in one that includes me, even if I wasn't part of it back then.
“You know, my parents would have loved you so much, Dain. Including Liam, even if he would have played the intimidating big brother at the start.”
I swallow heavily. “You think so?” I never thought it would hurt me to miss the chance to meet my in-laws. Never thought I would ever be in a position to have in-laws.
“I know it. She pressed her body even closer to mine, I'm almost afraid she will crush the painting. “I'm sure they are watching us from Malek's realm. You are now part of the Mairi madness.”
I kiss the top of her head. “And I wouldn't want to have it any other way.”