Consorting with Enemies

[Jay Carpenter]

Jai

He heard movement in the water, and let the Light burn him through right then. Jai practically had to cut himself open to not turn and look. If he did, it’d be over, and no vow, no oath and no resolution in the world could keep him standing still. The story. Focus on the story, he told himself and scrubbed a hand hard through his hair.

Through the reel of images flashing through his mind—Nythadri’s hair cascading down her chest, her lips glistening with steam, her stomach…. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to focus on the sound of her voice. Somehow, he caught fragments of what she was saying, her words piercing through the walls he was desperate to hold. Here he thought they had it tough, but now he had some idea of the torture she put herself through. For what? To earn a ring that imprisoned her all this time? He had no idea she’d been through anything like that. To go into something and risk never coming back out. Chancing death to prove devotion? Was five lonely years not enough proof to the cause? Light, she did it though; walked in and walked back out again all in one piece, twice! He could almost smile at that. He'd never doubt her for a second.

A moment of weakness chanced a look over one shoulder. Thankfully, she wore a robe, but somehow, the robe was worse. The way it clung to her body, damp skin and sleek hair. Memories from that night in the Aryth rushed back. Desire and guilt, and the burden of the choices he had pressed upon her washed fresh; to make her put those sacrifices on the line and walk away. When she drew near, his gaze gravitated toward her, but it was killing him. The ache constricting his chest was so tight, he could barely breathe but to stand there and try and memorize her face.

It was the faith in her eyes that was unraveling him, and when their fingers intertwined at the barest touch, her offer shattered the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“I would be thrusting you into the very danger I want to save you from.” And his voice cracked, wavering under the weight of more emotions than one person could possibly know, and he could barely say the next few words.
“You’ll feel the madness in me.” And there was no knowing if it would only get worse with the years. 
“There’s a hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea.” And he shook his head. Trying to remember them.

But staring into her eyes, he saw the woman that slid from a saddle to stand between justice and hatred. A woman who saw tenderness in the touch of a killer. And in return, he saw her strength. Her humor. Her devotion. Her.

And his resistance crumbled entirely. On a sudden turn, he took her in his arms and kissed her before they both came to their senses and she changed her mind.

It was the kiss he denied himself all night. To tell her that he was there; somewhere buried in this shell was a man desperate to have her. To be with her. To never want to leave her again. He paused only to breathe, yet he held her close, his forehead grazing hers. “But when have I ever done the right thing?” And he sank to his knees, gaze holding to the anchor of hers all the while, and he nodded.