“Because I wanted to see how the story ended. Whether Amsonia’s father was saved. Whether her dreaded dragon became a hero in the end.”
“You were right,” she said, her voice low and raspy. “Life isn’t a fairy tale. Fathers are lost forever. Curses can’t be lifted.”
She was lower than he’d ever seen her, lost in the despair of saying goodbye to the blind hope she’d nurtured for so long.
“He’s dead. He’s really dead.” She hung her head, tears falling on the blanket. “And nothing I say or do, no matter how fiercely I believe, nothing will bring him back.”
“He’s dead,” Dex agreed. There was no use denying it.
The anguish on her face slayed him. “But you’re alive, Ana. So vibrantly alive, you have so much light and love to gift to the world. Your book will bring joy to so many.”
“I hope... you’re right,” she spoke through her tears.
“I know I am.”
She lay her head on his shoulder. He let her cry, not trying to stop her, handing her a handkerchief and holding her damp hair away from her face.
When the sobs subsided, he offered her water. A little bit more brandy. Her head dropped back to his shoulder. He rocked her gently back and forth.
“I liked the ending of your book. When the curse was lifted.”
“Mmm,” she said sleepily.
“In fact, I believe that dragons can change. They can learn to shed their solitude, learn to... love. I saw myself in your story.I saw how my stubborn refusal to open my heart to giving and receiving love hurts everyone around me.”
He glanced down. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing even.
“Ana?” he whispered, but there was no response.
She’d fallen asleep. Exhausted from their perilous evening and from grief.
His leg was beginning to cramp. The fire was dying. But he couldn’t move. He didn’t want to disturb her. She was too beautiful, too sweet and vulnerable nestled into him, trusting his shoulder to cradle her, his arms to warm her.
She slept so soundly, the soft rustling noise of her breathing like leaves ruffled by a breeze. This was what it would be like to sleep with her at night, to listen to her breathing beside him. He wouldn’t be alone anymore.
Her hand in his, so small and trusting. He’d been given a great responsibility: her welfare, her happiness, her pleasure. He wanted to wake her with kisses, take her to his bed and truly warm her, until they were both sweaty and hot and gasping for more.
He wanted things he’d never longed for before. He’d thought of himself as a grumbly, scarred, and dark-hearted man who was past redemption. She was silken sunshine poured onto him, warming him. It gave him this stubborn little flicker of hope. Hope that he might deserve to win her heart. That she could be his.
Hope that he hadn’t succeeded in pushing her away.
That she could love him still.
God, he missed her smile. Wide and carefree. Lifting the freckles around her lips, making his heart light up. He missed her laughter, the sly way she looked at him with heat in her green eyes that seared his heart.
What could he say to make her understand that her smile was precious to him, that he’d do anything to bring it back?
He had to find a way. He had to show her what was in his heart. How she’d transformed him. How he’d strive to be worthy of her love from this night forth.
Chapter Thirty-Two
The mists parted, and the Faery Queen drifted across the river toward them. “Welcome, friends, and well done! We will celebrate the end of the Red Wizard’s reign. Have you the amulet?”
“I have, but what—” Amsonia stopped. Qavox was approaching Gaethryn, bowing his great head at her feet.
“I repent for my arrogant youth, the harm I did your people. If you deem me worthy, o Queen, I beg you to reverse what you set in motion those long centuries ago.”
“Qavox, you are indeed worthy! Your love is your redemption. I have been but waiting to hear you say those words. Amsonia, the amulet...”