Broken Dove (Fantasyland 4)

“I came into my room,” she whispered then lifted the papers in her hands. “And this was on my pillow.”

Apollo didn’t look at the papers when the tears wet her eyes as the pink of emotion tinged her cheeks.

He was about to go to her when she declared, “Chris left me the story he’s writing.”

And again, his chest tightened.

By the gods.

“It’s not done,” she went on then visibly swallowed. “As it wouldn’t be since it’s about Loretta and Hans.”

“He left it for you?” Apollo asked.

“On my pillow,” she answered. “You have your own room, honey,” she reminded him. “I don’t think he’s aware you sleep with me.”

He did have his own room.

This meant his son left Madeleine a story.

Christophe would not let just anyone read his stories.

And he would never go out of his way to share one with someone unless that someone meant something to him.

No.

Unless that someone meant a great deal to him.

Maddie knew this and this was why her voice was croaky when she noted, “I think this is some serious progress.”

Her understatement made him grin and finally move to her.

When he arrived, he plucked her out of her chair and sat in it, arranging her and her throw on his lap and curling his arms around her.

“Is it good?” he asked, but he knew the answer.

His son was a very talented writer.

He watched her draw in a deep breath, getting control of her emotions, before she nodded.

“Yes. Actually, it’s great. He drew me in right away.” She looked down to the papers she held in her hand. “Though, it’s clear he wants Loretta to fall for Hans so I’m hoping he doesn’t get disappointed.”

“I hope so too,” he murmured.

Her eyes came to him and they were filled with wonder.

“He left it for me, baby.”

Apollo pulled her closer. “He did, poppy.”

Her smile was shaky but she pushed through it and it finally lit in her eyes.

“Today is the best…day…ever,” she whispered.

He’d had many better days than she, marrying a woman he loved, that woman bringing their two children into the world, Maddie sharing he had her love.

But he decided this day was definitely in the top five.

“I’m glad you think so, poppy,” he replied gently.

This made what he had to tell her all the more frustrating.

But he had to tell her.

She would not only wish to know, she needed to know.

Preparing her and himself, Apollo gathered her ever closer and shared, “Alas, I have something to share that will bring darkness to this day.”

Her eyes moved over his face as her lips muttered, “Great.”

“First,” he began, keeping her close, “I will preface what I have to say with reminding you of the fact that all efforts have been made to make you safe here, poppy. And you are.”

“Okay,” she said slowly when he stopped speaking.

“However, some weeks ago, Valentine reported that she has been keeping an eye on the me of the other world.”

He felt her body tighten, therefore he swiftly gave her the rest.

“She is no longer able to see him. She does not understand why this is but has concluded that it is because he is in this world, protected by our foes, brought here to do ill.”

After he gave her this news, her gaze drifted to his throat.

He opened his mouth to reassure her but didn’t get a word out before she looked to him again.

“Figures,” she stated calmly. “He’s such a dick.”

Apollo stared at her.

She continued speaking.

“So, I blew it with the other Cora, they’re probably thinking that they can get to me through him since he’s, like, a normal human being and can probably get through enchantments and the like. They figure I’ll mistake him for you and then they’ll get their wicked hands on me.”

“I do not know their plans, dove. It is simply that you should know that he might be here and if he is, they have plans to use him. Thus you must be alert.”

“Well, whatever,” she stated breezily, and Apollo blinked. “They’re whacked if they think I can’t tell the difference. I mean, seriously? First of all, he doesn’t have a hand. And secondly, he’s so not you.”

Although her words pleased him—greatly—his eyes narrowed on her in surprise. “You’re unconcerned?”

“Uh…in a million years, would you allow Pol to ever hurt me again?”

Gods.

“No.” The word was firm, his voice was low, but yet again his chest was tight. “Not in a million years.”

“So then,”—she shrugged—“whatever. Bring it on. Maybe you can cut his other hand off this time.”

He stared at her.

Then he clasped her close and burst out laughing.

When he was done, she was grinning at him. She leaned in, touched her mouth to his smiling lips and pulled away to twist to the table by the chair. She carefully placed Christophe’s story there and twisted back.

Then she reached behind her to curl her fingers around his wrist, pulling his arm from around her. Her hand slid over his so that she could press it deep to her stomach.

She did all this holding his eyes.

Once she had his hand in place, she said softly, “We have something to celebrate, baby.”

They absolutely did.

She leaned in again and the distance was not vast, but Apollo met her halfway. He did this surging out of the chair, holding her to him.

He accepted her kiss as he walked her to the bed.

Once he had her in it, she accepted his kiss.

After she accepted it, he gave her a great deal more.

Chapter Thirty-One

Love Is Everything

I tapped the feather of the quill to my lips, staring at the blank sheet of paper, totally at a loss.

“Maddie?”

At his call, my eyes went to Apollo.

“Hmm?”

He was fully dressed, prepared to take off on Torment and pump arrows into bunnies and deer in the hunt.

I was in my nightgown, robe and fur slippers, sitting at the writing desk in our room, trying not to think of my man off pumping arrows into bunnies and deer.

I watched him look to the desk then at me before he asked, “What are you doing?”

“Writing Chris a note,” I answered and shifted my gaze to the paper.

Apollo’s voice was getting closer as he noted, “Dove, he’s just four doors down the hall.” I looked back at him as he finished, “Why would you be writing him a note?”