When I closed my eyes that night, an unfamiliar, warm feeling settled into my chest, like someone had wrapped my heart in a fuzzy quilt. I realized there was nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. Drifting off with a smile on my lips, I finally knew what it meant to be content.
30
When you finally find yourplace in the world, you will never want to leave.
That was the first thought to filter through the warm sunlight and into my mind when I woke in the arms of my prince. My second thought was that my prince slept like the dead. His tanned chest barely rose and fell. His breaths made no noise whatsoever. So unlike my sister—the only other person with whom I had shared a bed.
I eased off the arm he’d tucked beneath me, careful not to disturb him.
The man was usually up with the sun. Always had somewhere to go. Something to do. His existence made my own seem so aimless. Playing in my “patch of dirt” as he called it, and cooking with Eava was fun and distracting, but I wanted to do more. To help in any way I could.
I had found my place. Now I needed to find my purpose.
Without prying blue eyes to watch, I took my time studying Rían. Mahogany hair sticking up where it met the pillow. Forearm thrown over his eyes. Blue ribbon still tied around his wrist. Full lips that had kissed every inch of my body. The silver scar across his nose. Across his throat. Above his heart.
All of them were part of Rían’s story.
And I wanted to read every page.
“Is this what you do every morning?” The throaty question emerged through smirking lips. “Wake and bask in my naked glory?” He didn’t bother moving his hand from his eyes.
“This is the first time you’ve slept in past sunrise. I’m taking full advantage of it.”
The dimple in his right cheek deepened. “I’d rather you take full advantage of me.”
While the suggestion stirred desire deep in my belly, there would be plenty of time for that later. In this moment, I just wanted to exist with him. “Where did this come from?” I asked, tracing the sliver line across the bridge of his nose.
“A prick with an iron blade.”
“Iron burns you, doesn’t it?” That’s what the old myths said about the Danú. According to the books, during the great war between the humans and the Danú, iron had been worth more than gold. Which made sense. You couldn’t protect yourself with gold.
“It does,” he confirmed with a frown.
The thick scars across his throat felt silky smooth beneath my fingertip. “And these. Are they all from your brother?”
“Mostly.”
And just when I was starting to like Tadhg. “Why did he kill you?”
“Because I deserved it.”
Of all the responses I thought he’d give, I hadn’t expected that. What had he done to deserve being killed so brutally? I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to know.
Perhaps I didn’t need to read all the pages of Rían’s story.
Perhaps I could skip to the bits that included me.
Rían finally lifted his arm from his eyes, pinning me to the bed with his cerulean stare. “I have done terrible, horrific things. I’ll not apologize because I’m not sorry. But for every law I’ve broken, I have suffered the consequences.”
The confession didn’t surprise me. Rían seemed to thrive on order. Look at his room: Always tidy. Uncluttered. Without frills or decorations. Everything neat and organized and in its proper place. The man folded his bloody socks. Who did that? Who folded their socks?
As someone who thrived on order, he expected people to follow the law to the letter.
And if they didn’t, they suffered as he had suffered.
Except with Anwen. He’d shown her mercy.
“Why did you spare Anwen?” I had never asked, and he had never said.