Vassal Sterling D'Este (top 10 books of all time .TXT) 📖

those few words. The way she watched Alphonse, as if the healer was somehow dangerous.

Alphonse realized that she was.  Dangerous to Delyth’s heart.

Just as dangerous as Delyth was in return. Because one harsh word from her had sent Alphonse drowning in misery so acute, it felt as if her very heart were breaking in two. A condition she knew was not real and yet…

“You would leave the Wildlands and come to Dailion… for me?” she whispered, afraid to say it any louder lest Delyth suddenly come to her senses.

Because Alphonse wanted Delyth to be there when this was all over. Even though she knew it would never happen, knew that at the end of this journey, she would either be gone forever, tied to Enyo’s whims, or be freed through her betrayal of Delyth and Tristan.

But, just for tonight, she needed to dream about a future she could never have.

A future she so desperately wanted to have.

Etienne was right. She was cruel and selfish and a liar.

༄

Hope and fear made for a potent mixture behind Delyth’s rib cage. She felt volatile, equally ready to crack or smile.

“If that’s what you want,” she said, her eyes fixed on Alphonse’s. Some part of her needed to be sure that Alphonse wanted it, that she wasn’t just saying so. If she even was saying so. “It wouldn’t be easy. Being with me, I mean, around others. The way I am.”

Part of her wanted to hide from this, to close up and stop herself from getting any deeper. Gods, this was going to hurt if Etienne was right. If it didn’t go well. And sometimes, knowing how it felt to hurt made it harder to take the chance. It had been so easy the first time. To put herself in harm’s way.

“Being with you around others as you are?” Alphonse seemed baffled. “Do you mean… because you would take other lovers…? I’ve heard tales that Wildlanders never marry and always have multiple lovers. I understand if that’s your culture.”

“What? No—” Delyth gasped. Different lovers? She was many things. Wild. Stubborn. She didn’t think through the consequences of her actions when her loved ones were in danger.

But prone to wander?

The idea was foreign. She was no Tristan to grope for the nearest warm body.

Delyth took one of Alphonse’s hands and pressed it to the bony ridge of one of her wings. “Look at me, Alphonse. I frighten people. They say cruel things… do cruel things…”

❀

Alphonse was shocked all over again. Not at the cruel nature of humans but that Delyth, who seemed truly a gentle soul, should endure such things…

“Do you think I am not strong enough to— to stand by your side in such times?” she whispered, knowing it was true. Alphonse could barely stand up to Tristan, wept at the smallest harsh word from Etienne. Of course, she couldn’t protect Delyth from the monstrosities of the dark-natured and violent.

“Gods, no. I think you’re strong enough to face anything.”Delyth raised the pale hand still held in her own and pressed the palm to her lips. “I just had to warn you. Before you decided if that was what you wanted…”

Amber eyes longed to stay on Delyth’s own blue ones, but the instant her lips pressed against the sensitive palm of Alphonse’s hand, her gaze darted to that instead. She swallowed.

“But—” she mumbled, fixated on Delyth’s lips. “How will we make money? And what if you hate hot weather?” Alphonse instinctively pressed her hand back to Delyth’s mouth, silently begging for more. “We’ve not… made love. I—I don’t know how. And what if I’m terrible?”  Despite her words, Alphonse was unconsciously moving closer to Delyth. Moth to Delyth’s flame.

“Gods, you silly woman, what does that matter?”

Delyth pulled Alphonse towards her until their bodies were pressed together, and Delyth had to drop her chin nearly to her chest to look Alphonse in the eyes.

“Just say that you would like to be with me,” she whispered. “That's all I need to know. The rest we can work out when we get there.”

Little bird was an apt pet name for Alphonse, her bones practically hollow compared to Delyth’s perfect structure. She felt very small and very frail, and that only made her heart hammer harder.

“I would,” Alphonse said truthfully, if a bit breathlessly, nearly melting into a quivering puddle as Delyth’s intense blue gaze met her own. Alphonse rather liked having that acute focus fixed on her.

༄

Delyth let out a fluttering breath, its passage like the wings of some delicate thing escaping from a ribbed cage.

Alphonse wanted this, wanted to build something together.

And even if the future was shrouded in distance and impossibilities, it was enough for now just to share the dream of that hazy hereafter.

Carefully, the priestess lifted her hands from Alphonse’s waist and used her palms to frame the smaller woman’s face. Calluses against soft skin. Sandpaper on satin.

Delyth didn’t kiss Alphonse right away. She just let herself feel for the brush of silk locks on the backs of her fingers, leaned into the pleasant nausea of deliberately holding a lover’s gaze. When she did kiss her, it was light. Something had changed, and she longed to search for it.

When she pulled away, she was nervous. Her stomach roiled, and her heart was a moth trapped in glass. “Would you—” She swallowed. “Would you like to sleep with me?”

A sweet, broad smile broke over her Alphonse’s  lips. “We sleep together every night. You know I like that…”

“Ah,” Delyth said. She could feel her blush tingle all along the ridge of her cheekbones. “That’s not what I meant.”She felt heavy, her pelvis a bowl brimming with liquid. Above it, her stomach was awash with nerves.

Delyth had never had to ask Tanwen… It had just happened, built into through stages by girlish exploration. Later, with Ffion, there had never been a question of intent. It felt important to ask Alphonse, though, because she was newer to it all.

She hesitated another moment and let her fingers slide further