Chapter Thirty-Three

The room enveloped me in a cocoon of stone and shadows, a sanctuary carved within the heart of the mountain. The play of firelight danced across the rugged walls, casting an intricate mosaic of warmth and shadows. My body lay upon the plush embrace of a fur rug, the crackling flames of the fireplace serving as both my company and solace.

And then he entered, his presence commanding the very air around him. The Kaimari warrior, enigmatic and intriguing, carried a cup of xocolātl—my favorite indulgence, spiced and rich—eliciting a soft and genuine gratitude that escaped my lips in the form of a whispered: "Thank you."

The blankets he had thoughtfully collected were draped over my naked form, shielding me from the night's winds. As the aroma of the xocolātl wafted toward me, my gaze lifted to meet his, hidden as they were behind his helm. A silent exchange passed between us, an acknowledgment that transcended words.

His voice, a rich velvet that stroked the air, cut through the stillness. "I put extra cinnamon," he admitted with a hint of playfulness, a note of indulgence that promised an extra layer of warmth to the brew. "Should help with fertility."

My laughter caught in my throat, a startled sound that was part embarrassment and part incredulity. Did he jest, or did he truly believe the concoction held such powers?

“Kidding, princess,” he offered, his tone light and teasing, yet my response was muted. Without a word, Kaden’s skilled fingers gently kneaded my aching feet, relieving the weariness of the day.

I bit my lip at the action, a wave of heat rising to my cheeks as I remembered what he did to me earlier.

"You know," he began, his voice a gentle murmur, "the island feels like a distant memory now."

I nodded, my gaze fixed on the fire. The gentle crackling of the flames seemed to mimic the cadence of my racing heart, creating a backdrop for the vulnerability I was about to unveil. "It's hard to believe that it was seven years ago.”

Silence settled between us, the memories of our time on the island a tapestry woven with both light and darkness. My thoughts drifted back to those days of self-discovery, of confronting both my fears and desires and of the enigmatic Kaimari warrior who had been my guide and companion.

"I used to wonder," I confessed, my voice soft, "if you cared for me back then."

Kaden’s helmet turned to me, his expression unreadable. I did, Aurora," he admitted. "But I had to keep my distance."

My expression held both curiosity and understanding. “Why?”

Kaden's fingers toyed with the fur, his thoughts seeming to be miles away. "You were too young, too new to the world of desires and choices. I knew the pull between us, the connection we shared, but I also recognized the importance of giving you space to grow into your person."

"It's curious, isn't it?" I began softly, my voice threading through the air like a whispered secret. "How things have shifted so profoundly."

Kaden's eyes met mine. "Shifted in what way?"

My gaze wandered, a connection forming between my thoughts and the textures beneath my fingertips. "We've evolved, metamorphosed," I mused, lost in introspection. "And yet, being here, in this moment with you, it's as if we've come full circle."

Kaden's gloved hand brushed mine, a reassurance conveyed through the simple contact. "Change is the essence of life," his words carried gentle wisdom. "It's how we adapt, how we learn."

I nodded, absorbed in our shared contemplation. "And how we discover the depth of who we truly are."

The fire continued its mesmerizing dance, its warmth cocooning us in a cocoon of tranquility. The fur rugs beneath us seemed to harbor the echoes of our shared journey, woven with moments that now felt simultaneously distant and incredibly vivid. My heart brimmed with a mix of emotions - gratitude, longing, and a yearning that hummed beneath the surface, resonating with the love I held for him.

"Kaden," I whispered his name, the timbre holding a plea laced with vulnerability.

He turned to me, his armored gaze had become an anchor for me in the sea of my emotions. "Aurora."

"I…" the words caught in my throat, carried by a tide of feelings too potent to suppress. "Amid all this change, after everything we've faced… Do you still care for me?"

Kaden's expression softened, his fingers intertwining with mine through the soft fur. "Aurora, from the moment we met on that island, my care for you has been unwavering. But with each trial we've overcome, that care has deepened, blossoming into something more profound."

My heart danced in my chest, his touch sending ripples of warmth through me. "And now?"

His thumb brushed over the back of my hand, a tender caress that echoed his words. "Now, my feelings for you are beyond description. You're ingrained in me, Aurora, a part of my very soul."

Tears welled in my eyes, emotions cascading in a mixture of joy and relief. Drawing closer, our lips met in a kiss that transcended words, a testament to the connection we shared. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken promises, of shared tribulations, and the bond that had withstood the tests of time.

"You're older than me," I stated, my voice infused with a mixture of curiosity and acceptance.

"Fourteen years older," he confirmed.

"I like that," I admitted, feeling the weight of our age difference adding a layer of complexity to our connection.

"I do too," he replied, his words holding a touch of amusement and understanding that resonated with my heart.

As the fire crackled before us, casting dancing shadows across the room, I couldn't shake the thoughts that had taken root in my mind. The warmth from the flames couldn't dispel the chill of anxiety that gripped my heart.

"Aurora" Kaden’s voice, velvety and rich, pulled me from my thoughts. "You seem lost in thought."

I sighed. "It's just…" I began, my words faltering as doubt crowded my mind.

His thumb brushed over my knuckles, a silent encouragement to continue.

"I can't help but worry," I confessed, my voice laced with vulnerability. "I worry that I won't be captivating or fascinating enough for you, considering the age difference between us."

Kaden’s gaze held mine, unwavering and intense. "Aurora, look at me," he urged gently.

I met his eyes, my heart a tempest of emotions.

"Do you know what I find captivating?" he asked, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity that resonated deep within me. "It's the fire in your eyes when you're determined, the way your laughter dances in the air, and the strength in your heart that carries you through the darkest of moments."

I blinked, caught off guard by the intensity of his words.

"You are not captivating to me because of your age," he continued, his voice unwavering. "You are captivating because of your spirit, your courage, and the way you challenge and inspire those around you."

His words washed over me like a soothing balm, alleviating the worries that had plagued my mind. The firelight seemed to catch in his eyes, reflecting the love and adoration he held for me.

"You see," he said, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand, "captivation is not bound by age or appearance. It's about the connection two souls share, the way they resonate with each other."

I felt my heart swell, his words dispelling the insecurities that had taken root. Kaden had a way of understanding me, of seeing beyond the surface to the heart of who I was.

"So, princess," he whispered, his voice a gentle reassurance, "let go of those doubts. You have captivated me in ways that transcend time, and your age is but a small piece of the masterpiece that is you."

His whispered words found their way into my heart, each syllable an anchor that rooted me in his presence. I gazed at him, my lips curving into a tentative smile, as the warmth of his gaze brushed against my skin.

"I-I don't get it," I admitted with a soft chuckle, my voice carrying a mix of wonder and self-doubt. "You're so sure of everything, so mature."

A knowing twinkle sparkled in his eyes, a hint of mirth playing at the corners of his lips. "Well, I am in my thirties," he quipped, a wink following his words. Yet, the playfulness quickly dissolved, replaced by gravity that drew my attention.

His next words fell like stones into the still pool of our conversation, their ripples pulling me into their depths. "There's a saying from my people," he began, his voice a steady cadence that wove a tapestry of meaning. "It translates to, the heart is split in two, but it does not speak of two soul mates that are distant and finding one another. It means the search for self, for one to find what is reality, and what they tell themselves." His gaze held mine, a connection forged in shared understanding. "The yawning gap that can exist between unswerving conviction based on intuition, cognition and the refusal to accept any other option. When I met you, I was unsure of who I was, and who I was telling myself I was. And you guided me to myself, made my life's path clear."

His words carried a weight that tugged at the corners of my heart, each sentiment carving a niche within my soul. A spark of anger, unbidden and raw, surged within me, a counterpoint to his logic. "You... you just abandoned me," the words left my lips like an accusation, the pain of the past suddenly too close for comfort. "At the orphanage. My heart shattered, and I was too young to understand such heartbreak. I was broken."

His admission came swift and honest, the words soft yet potent. "I know."

"Why didn't you ever come back for me?" My voice trembled with a mix of accusation and vulnerability, the question hanging between us like a shadow.

"I checked on you, once a week, from the shadows," he revealed, his gaze unflinching.

My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of emotions clawing at my insides. "You watched me?" The revelation caught me off guard, a collision of anger and confusion. “Why didn’t you ever speak to me?”

"Because-because the heart is split in two, Aurora," he replied, his voice heavy with understanding. "You were a child, I-I couldn't break you from your journey."

Why was anger such a quick companion to love I did not know, perhaps in ten years I would know the answer.

"I suffered," I whispered, a confession bared to the flames that danced around us. "I was suffering. At the orphanage, when I reunited with my chosen sisters in Pythos, even back at Astreaus."

His shoulder rolled, the weight of our shared past hanging between us. "You looked content," he observed, his voice gentle.

"I learned how to pretend," I confessed, my words carrying the weight of a lifetime's worth of masks.

We held each other's gaze, a silent duel of emotions, an unspoken understanding.

"But... I understand," my voice wavered, the admission a bitter pill to swallow, yet a truth that could not be denied. "I don't forgive you, nor do I think I ever fully will, but I understand."

“It broke me, Aurora, I searched for you in every other.”

Tears threatened to spill, the tide of emotions swelling within me. "I looked for you," my voice trembled, the truth a fragile thread that connected us across the years, across the distance. “In everything, everywhere.”

His arms wrapped around me, a fortress of strength and warmth, and I leaned into his embrace. "I am never leaving you again," his words were a prayer, a vow that echoed in the quiet sanctuary we had created. "I promise."

As I rested against him, my heart found a rhythm that echoed his, a symphony of past and present, of wounds and healing. And in that fragile, sacred moment, the pieces of our fractured journey began to mend, each thread of understanding weaving a tapestry that held the potential for a future worth cherishing.

I fell asleep to him and the fire. For the first time in my life, at peace.