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Out of nowhere, his purr galloped out of his chest before he could contain it. He muffled it immediately, face flaming all the way to his horns. She flinched and peered sideways at him. Her bright blue eyes finally met his. He was disarmed. Breathless. Brows drawing together, she studied him. Oh Goddess. He hoped she couldn’t see how furiously he was blushing.
So far, this marriage resembled his past marriages a little too closely for comfort. His other wives had also kept to themselves, remaining in their rooms rather than spend time with him.
It felt like there was some kind of guilt tied to her refusals, as though she didn’t want him troubling himself for her. All he wanted was to trouble himself for her. To demonstrate the lengths at which he yearned to trouble himself for her. To prove he could make her happy in all ways and instill in her a sense that he was essential to her life and her happiness. Indispensable.
For so long he’d told himself that he was worthy. That he had value. That he was not a blight. But deep down, he’d always known he would only ever feel the truth behind that sentiment when his people validated those feelings.
“That’s a beautiful thought,” she murmured. He traced the curves of her lovely face. “You inspire beautiful thoughts.”
“The Goddess was unreasonably generous when she formed you.” Aurora’s skin warmed, her body swaying closer to his. He met her eyes. “It would be blasphemous to hide the fruits of her labor.”
She was so beautiful. The Goddess had stolen pieces of the sky to form her eyes and weaved pale morning sunlight through her hair.
She let out a clipped high-pitched noise that she’d meant to be nonchalant but came out one hundred percent chalant.
His heart felt like it was tearing from how much it swelled. He’d never been given a token before, had never been picked or wanted. Not like this.
Rhaego had loved Aurora since the first time he’d laid eyes upon her, and the feeling had only deepened from there.
“I hope you fall vag-first onto a telephone pole, you slimy, sneaky, selfish twat,”
“My world is blurred at the moment. I need time to make sense of it all,” he began. “But I love you, Aurora. If no other truth exists in this world, know that will always remain.”
Watching Aurora didn’t hit him like the shock of a lightning strike or the blow of a fist. When she was merely existing like this and he had the privilege of witnessing that existence, it was like sitting before a beautiful sea, watching the waves crash. Gazing into the hypnotic curl and snap of a fire. Listening to gentle rain on a misty fall day. It fed the soul.
