Born of Flames

Chapter 10 ~ Love Between Souls

    The sun was setting by the time Morana finished her preparations for their departure. She hadn't seen Tarion again since they left the garden, though he'd assured her he would be taking care of his own things. She took that to mean it was his turn to be alone.

    Now, she mounted the dozens of flights of steps slowly, trying to lengthen the time it would take her to reach their bedroom. She didn't want her arrival to startle Tarion. She knew he hadn't entirely been himself when they parted ways, and she knew better than to expect him to have fully recovered from the shock.

    Again, Morana kicked herself inwardly for her lack of tact when revealing her intentions. How could she have just sprung that on him so abruptly when she knew what he'd suffered in that city?

    An exasperated sigh hissed between her teeth as she reached the final landing and approached their doorway. The cloth hung over it and she could sense the presence of Tarion's shields, though they didn't stop her when she pushed the curtain aside and entered the room.

    Tarion was seated on a chair, methodically sharpening one of his scimitar daggers. The other was propped against the arm of his chair, either waiting its turn or having already been sharpened. Tarion didn't look up when she entered but she knew he'd noticed her presence.

    Morana crossed the room and slid her boots off before perching on the edge of the bed. "I sharpened your dagger too," Tarion said at last, jerking his head towards the table where she'd left the blade gifted from her father. "You might want to check Noxbane."

    The sword was leaning against the table as well, still secure in its sheath. Morana began unlacing her leather stays and vambraces. "That sword never needs sharpening. No matter how often I use it, it never becomes dull. I assume it's because it was forged by Hadeon. I'm sure the God of War wouldn't want to waste time sharpening his blade."

    Tarion held up his dagger to inspect his work, then set it next to its twin. From behind the other side of the chair, he lifted Orilight and began to sharpen it. "That makes sense. Orilight still needs to be regularly sharpened, but it's only a blessed sword, not a god-forged one." He set to work on the blade, his strokes reverent and precise.

    Morana bit her lip as she set her garments aside and crossed her legs. "Do you think we'll run into trouble there?"

    "I have no idea what we'll run into there. I'm not taking any chances." A muscle in his jaw clenched, the only emotion his features betrayed.

    She knew the rest of his feelings would be locked up tightly. She'd seen him do it before. She was not going to watch her mate slip back into that cold, numb state she'd first found him in. Morana rose and crossed the room until she stood before him. Tarion glanced up, arching a brow.

    He didn't protest when she wrapped her hand around Orilight's hilt and drew the sword away. Morana laid it aside and seated herself on his lap, bending her legs at the knee so that her feet hung back off the edge of the chair. Tarion cocked his head.

    "Tell me what you're feeling," Morana urged, her fingers caressing his jaw. "What you're really feeling."

    Tarion sighed, turning his face from her. She let her hand fall to his chest. "What do you want me to say, Morana? Obviously I'm not pleased about going to Ophir, but if you think we'll find something there, then I'm going with you."

    "But you don't have to pretend to be okay just for my sake. I can't imagine how hard it will be for you, and I don't want to put you through that again if I don't have to."

    He shook his head, his eyes meeting hers. "You're not putting me through anything. I'm choosing to do this. Because I want to be there for you, to help you, and to protect you. Gods know I fucking hate that city and I wish I never had to see it again, but I love you more than I fear it."