“What did they do to you?” she asked, hesitant, like she didn’t want to ask for more than he was willing to give. She didn’t realize everything he was already belonged to her.
Licking his dry lips, he continued. “They had a way of seeing through the darkness in the cellar. I never knew when they would next beat me. I just felt their fists against my body, the pain.”
Sage took a sharp inhale, her face open, honest. She didn’t move an inch, and yet he felt her physical presence like a deep warmth. “I hope you made them suffer.”
There was a wicked disposition melding with the kindness in her heart, and it was wildly intoxicating.
He felt his eyes widen at the crooked grin that pulled at her lips, dripping with a lovely malevolence. By the gods, she would kill him. “My magic awoke then. I felt it pulse underneath my skin, and it lit up the entire room—it healed me. I could see the door of the cell, the light coming from the guards… And I slaughtered them all.”
She bit her lip and wrung her hands together. “Good.”
“I escaped out a tunnel that led me to my first drop of light I’d seen in weeks: the sunrise,” Trystan said darkly. “I vowed then that if the king believed me a villain…that was exactly what I would become.”
He remembered staring at the colors of light as the sun rose above the hill, like it was illuminating his purpose before his eyes.
“It’s a hat you wear well,” Sage said, kindly, sadly. “But why would King Benedict wait so long to try and end you, if he really believed you to be so dangerous?”
“Who says he hasn’t?”
Evie was rocked by a sudden realization. “Oh my— The men in the dungeon. The ones you torture. There must be over three dozen at least.”
“All sent by our benevolent king to capture me or end my life. It’s a mystery why he went to all the effort to come at me through your father,” Trystan said, realizing too late how thoughtless the comment was.
Because at the mention of the man, Evie’s once-calm face went chalk white and her eyes went dark. “Why would he do that?” She stood, pacing back into the kitchen, taking another large swig of wine, and he followed helplessly behind her.
“Sage, I apologize. I shouldn’t have mentioned—”
She bent over like she was struggling for breath. “Oh gods,” she choked out. “You’re trying to tell me about your trauma, and I’m hyperventilating like a selfish ass.” She held up a hand, keeping her head down. “Give me a moment. I’ll be right with you.”
“It was a long time ago, Sage. I believe you’re allowed to be upset by the your father’s betrayal, which happened literally an hour ago.”
“Too many things happening. My brain can’t process.” She moaned, flipping her head up. Her hair was wild, teased like she’d just been—
He would not finish that sentence.
“What can I do?” he asked sincerely.
Sage nodded to herself, pushing a hand through her dark locks, tossing them over one shoulder. “I think… I think I need a hug…please.”
It was the slight please at the end, lighter than her other words, that absolutely destroyed whatever might have been left of him. “Sage, I’m not good at hugging. That time in the forest, you caught me off guard—I do not and cannot make ‘hugs’ a regular occurrence.”
“But you did it so well before.” The little tornado’s eyes scrunched in confusion, and he resisted the gratified feeling that she enjoyed their hug so much that she thought another was well-advised.
“All right. Fine. A hug.” He lifted a brow, seeing no other possible recourse. He smoothed the still-damp front of his cloak. “Like this?”
He walked closer to her, and her stormy eyes widened. She stepped toward him, looking like she was beginning to doubt how to go about the act herself. Which he knew wasn’t true; he’d seen her throw out hugs like they were hellos to everyone in the office. He’d never wished to be on the receiving end of one of those hugs, but… All right, he was a liar.
There was no distance left between them, and if one of them didn’t move soon, Trystan was sure that every ounce of self-control he’d gathered over the years would evaporate and he’d do something truly unforgivable.
It was both appallingly horrific and devastatingly wonderful that this small wisp of a woman had undone years of building pillars of protection around himself. That he would take apart any wall that kept him from her.