A Battle of Blood and Stone (Chronicles of the Stone Veil 4)

The Kymaris issue would only serve to make Carrick think I was an idiot and no kind of leader, and the Zora issue is moot at this moment. I will, however, bring it up to him again when the timing is right.

It only takes us about ten minutes to catch up on my end, then both his hands go to my face. He bends, peering into my eyes. “And how are you holding up? Especially with everything I had told you before Rune took me away?”

The tender words threaten to undo me because I’ve had a spine of steel since he’s been gone. Now that he’s here, I just want to melt into a puddle of indifference for a while and let Carrick take complete charge of everything.

I really, really want a break.

So, I answer by snaking a hand to the back of his neck as I go to my tiptoes, and stare into those honeyed eyes. Life is too short, so I kiss him.

And it’s an amazing kiss when he responds, but it’s also short-lived as he pulls away. His eyes on mine, he chastises, “More of that later. Now I want to know how you’re holding up.”

I sigh, part irritation that he stopped the kiss, part avoidance of something I’ve been trying not to think about but mostly because I know I’ll have to comply because Carrick won’t let this go.

I finally admit, “I have a lot of jumbled-up feelings and a million questions, but I really just want you to take me to your bedroom and let’s get lost in each other for a while. We can talk later.”

Carrick doesn’t reply. I can tell part of him wants to force me to talk.

But the greatest part of him is more intrigued by my request to go to his bedroom. He merely bends distance to his room, swirls me in a pearly gray tornado of magic that divests us of our clothing, and deposits us squarely under the sheets of his bed.

“Very convenient,” I manage to giggle before his body rolls over onto mine and his mouth starts to tell me the story about how we’ve loved each other through eternity all over again.

* * *

I’ve had moments throughout my life that have been impactful. Events I wish I could revisit and live over again. People who have made my life complete.

But lying here in this bed, Carrick spooned at my back and his arm holding me close to him, I can’t think of anything in my life that has ever felt better. In fact, if I were to die, I hope it’s just like this.

Except, given what I know so far about my fate and prophecy, it’s not going to happen in bed with Carrick but in a battle to the death with Kymaris.

At least, that’s the odds on the favorite scenario.

“You’re quiet,” Carrick observes, pressing his lips into the back of my head. “Did I break you?”

“Never,” I assure him, although I will feel deliciously used in the morning. “But I sort of feel like we’re back on that patio just before Rune came and snatched you away, and you had just laid that bombshell on me. I haven’t been able to process it yet.”

Carrick shifts, putting space between us, then forces me to roll over so we can look at each other. “Let’s process it now. Because I’ve hardly thought of anything else in the last three weeks.”

Placing my hand on his naked chest, I stare at the hollow of his throat before lifting my gaze to his. “I read your journals. Not all of them, but I flipped through a lot since we first met. I couldn’t find any mentions of me.”

“To keep you safe,” Carrick replies.

I nod and smile. “Zaid told me the same. He’s tried to help me through this, as have Rainey and Myles, but… I just didn’t want to talk to them. I only wanted to talk to you.”

“I’m here,” he says quietly. “Let’s talk about anything you want.”

I should have written down all the questions that have been buzzing around my brain for the last three weeks and put them in an orderly fashion. But I didn’t, so my first question is completely random.

“How old was I when Rune killed me in front of you?” I ask.

“Twenty-five,” he says softly. “You were young when we met, fell in love, and married, but that’s the way it was back then. At eighteen, you were of an age where you should have been married off. It’s only because your father loved you so much that he didn’t want to force you into a loveless match and you apparently had plenty of suitors seeking your hand.”

“That’s just so archaic. It’s hard to imagine me living in that time.”

“You were a lot more progressive than the other females of your time,” Carrick says with a chuckle. “You were rebellious, rambunctious, fearless, didn’t listen to reason, and never asked for help. You definitely weren’t the type to swoon over a big hulking Viking trying to molest you.”