“I know you think you’re protecting me,” I said. “But I can think for myself. I know what I’m doing.”
His blue eyes flashed. Just once. Like they always did in my dreams. Hope flared before fizzling behind his carefully constructed wall. “Do you?” he asked softly.
For some reason, it pissed me off.
“I don’t understand you,” I said, scowling. “You talk so convincingly about wanting to protect me from making some fatal mistake that will cost me my throne, and yet you don’t even believe I deserve to have it.”
“What makes you think that?”
“All these secrets you keep.” I waved a hand. “You say they’re for my own good, but how can I believe that when I know you don’t believe in my ability to lead?”
“Alina, of course I do. I—”
I crossed my arms. “You don’t believe the prophecy.”
He frowned, his brows creasing as he stared back at me. “Of course not. I never put much stock in those things. Neither of us did.”
“Ha! You admit it,” I accused.
“Keep your voice down,” he insisted, glancing over at the door. Then he leaned in and cocked his head. “Do you even know what the prophecy is?”
I raised my chin in defiance because no part of me wanted to admit I had no real clue. “I heard you talking to Peter and Eamon about it the other night. You said it could easily be wrong—and you said it like you wanted it to be wrong. That’s all I needed to know.”
He exhaled with a huff and sat back, shaking his head before looking over at me again. “Alina, the prophecy claims your rule as empress is clouded by your judgment and your own mind. It’s not some prediction of your victory. It’s foretelling your failure. That was why I spoke against it. I was defending you. I always have.”
I blinked. “Oh.”
Xander’s brows rose.
I sighed. “Well, what kind of quack is allowed to shoot off about people she has no idea about, anyway?”
His lips quirked. “Mihra’s been our seer for many generations. Eamon was right. She’s rarely wrong.”
Mihra?
It figured she’d been the one to say all that.
“Well, she’s wrong about me,” I said much more firmly than I felt. “She can’t see me clearly. She said so herself.”
Xander’s voice softened as he said, “I know. And that’s why I can’t let you make some fatal mistake that will cost you your throne.”
I bit my lip, trying to conjure up the caution or at least some sense of pressure he was trying to invoke. What he was saying—his behavior until now, the back-and-forth of the way he treated me—he was protecting me from the pressure of my position. The expectations.
I understood that now. The problem was, it didn’t make me want him any less. If anything, I only wanted him more.
From his chair, Xander watched me carefully. I knew he was waiting for me to react and probably even to nod and agree that his way was the best. Patience, wisdom, caution. The things good leaders navigated by.
But I had shit for experience as a good leader. And all I knew was my gut—which was telling me to kiss the guy in front of me who cared enough to make me eat his mother’s casserole and then deny it afterward so I wouldn’t catch on to exactly how deeply he already cared. All to protect me from making some political faux pas.
Agreeing to back off whatever this was between us was obviously the smart play. The problem was that I’d never claimed to be smart about politics. Or love.
That stupid prophecy could go to hell.
“Is that all?” I asked.
Xander frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I mean is that the only reason you keep trying to insult me into hating you? So that I won’t accidentally get tricked into having to marry you when the rest of them find out we like each other? And so that you don’t have to worry that I’ll use you to get my throne?”
“I don’t think you’ll—”
“Don’t. I’m not an idiot, Xander. I see the whole picture now.”
He sighed. “Fine. Yes. When I kiss you, it’ll be because you want it. Because you want me. Not as a political move to get to your throne.”
“I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am—”
“I don’t know what kind of girl you are,” he said.
I leaned forward, anger heating my skin as I crawled closer. “Take it back.”
“What?”
“Take it back right now. You know exactly who I am. Just because I forgot doesn’t mean you get to pretend you don’t remember.”
“Alina…”
My eyes narrowed. “I would never, ever take advantage of someone like that. Especially you.”
“I don’t know what you’d do anymore,” he said quietly. “And I can’t risk the war. No matter how much I want you.”
Xander lowered his head, and I knew he was going to let it go now. Stop fighting. Wait until he’d done exactly what he’d said. Restored me to the throne and won the war. All of that came before following his own heart. And somehow it didn’t surprise me that he’d put himself last.
“I saw your eyes in my dreams, you know.”
His head came up, his eyes softening as he stared back at me in confusion. Then hope.
“Almost every single night for as long as I can remember.” My lips twisted wryly. “So, I’d say about five years now. I couldn’t remember anything else. Not a scrap or shred of my life before arriving on Earth. Except for your eyes. And they are exactly as I dreamt them. Hard. Relentlessly hard. Like a challenge. Like I need to live up to whatever they see in me.”
Xander didn’t say a word as I talked. He’d gone perfectly still and even when I paused, he didn’t move a muscle.
“The eyes in my dreams were also a reassurance. They were always there. Always waiting for me. Always understanding and forgiving and full of hope. They never wavered. They never gave up on me. I don’t know what I would have done without those dreams, Xander. Without you.”
“Even when I didn’t know your name, I knew your heart.” I took a deep breath, nearly losing myself in his gaze now. “I guess what I’m saying is, when you kiss me, it’ll be because I want it. Because I want you. Not as a political move to get to my throne.”
A beat of silence passed between us. Then two. It grew so loud, I thought I’d drown in it.
Finally, Xander inhaled then exhaled slowly.
The light in his eyes had changed. This wasn’t the same look I’d seen in my dreams. This was so much more. My heart thudded against my ribs in anticipation. His eyes darted to my tongue, and my lips actually tingled from the intensity of his stare.
His voice was rough as he said, “Come here.”
I launched myself off the bed and into his lap, just barely managing to land with my mouth properly on his as we crashed together. Xander grunted at the impact, but his arms came around me automatically and he planted his feet, stabilizing us both and holding tight to keep me from tumbling onto the floor. I wrapped my arms around his neck—mostly to keep him from trying to pull away and say something sensible.
But a second later, Xander sighed, and I felt him relax against me. Then he was kissing me right back and all my barriers dropped away. I held tighter, my fingers snaking up to tangle in his hair. His hand came around to cup my hip, pulling my legs closer, so that I wasn’t in danger of sliding away from him.
When his tongue ran over the edge of my top lip, I was glad he was holding me so tightly. Any less and I would have definitely lost my balance. Instead, I shuddered, goose bumps sending waves of tingling from my mouth all the way down to my core.
“Xander…”
I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, giving him full access. He kissed a trail from my mouth down my throat and back again. I clung to him, desperate and hot, my hips pressing against his in an attempt to eliminate any space between us.
Behind my closed lids, blue eyes flashed in my mind, just like I’d seen them in my dreams o
ver and over. Only this time, they were set in a ruggedly handsome face. Just above a deliciously sexy mouth that was currently attached to my own and showing no signs of breaking free.
This was what I’d dreamed about.
And I didn’t care what came next; I only wanted this.
As if he’d read my mind—and agreed—Xander deepened the kiss. His hands tightened, and then wandered, tracing trails over my skin. His fingertips slid over my chest, my ribs, down, down, down…
Somewhere behind Xander, a throat cleared.
Loudly.
Xander and I wrenched apart and looked up to find Peter glaring at us from the open bedroom doorway. At the sight of him, heat flooded my cheeks and Xander’s glow suddenly blinked out. It would have been funny if Peter’s disapproval hadn’t hung in the air, more than powerful enough to penetrate even without a light to shine on it.
“I’m going to finish up the night shift,” Peter said. “Xander, you take the couch. I’ve got this.” His tone left no room for argument.
Xander extracted me from his lap and then stood as I scrambled backward on the mattress.
“Yes, sir,” he said and then darted back through the bedroom door and disappeared into the living room.
Peter waited until I was tucked safely under the covers again before he took the chair Xander had vacated.
He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. And it was all I could do to keep from laughing at the way Xander, General of the Zorovian army and mighty warrior against any threat, had just slunk away like a middle schooler busted by his mother.
Chapter Seventeen
I drifted off to the sound of Peter snoring softly in the chair.
My dreams were muddled and chaotic, and I woke again just as the first rays of light came through my window. The clear pane was too high up to really see anything from where I lay. In fact, all the windows in the house here were positioned just underneath the ceiling which was sensible considering I hadn’t seen a single set of curtains or blinds. Bare windows meant the daylight filtered in unencumbered—and now that I knew another day had dawned, I was up.
Today was going to be busy what with a prospective kidnapper to catch.
Besides, sleep wasn’t working out very well for me. Already, my eyes were scratchy with the tossing and turning I’d done. Between the nightmares and the midnight make-out session with Xander, I wasn’t capable of relaxing.
Carefully, I threw the covers aside and slid out of bed. Peter snored softly in the chair, his head back and his mouth open. I’d barely gotten halfway to the door before he abruptly sat up and called me back.
“Alina, we need to talk,” he said.
“Sure.” I padded back to the bed and sat. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Xander,” he said, looking mildly uncomfortable.
“Oh.” I perched on the edge of the mattress, bracing myself for some sort of safe sex talk or something similar. “What about him?”
“Alina, your station comes with certain expectations,” Peter said slowly. His eyes were still red-rimmed from exhaustion but his words were clearly thought out—and all too familiar after all of Xander’s lectures.
I huffed. “This again?”
“Again?” Peter’s brows shot up. “We haven’t—”
“Xander talked to me about this already.”
“Yes, and I can see it had a real effect on your choices,” he said dryly.
My eyes narrowed as his words pricked at my temper. “Peter, I know what I’m doing. Besides, he’s my chosen, remember? Why are you surprised by this?”
“It’s true,” Peter said warily. “Xander was chosen for you a long time ago.”
“Wait… What do you mean ‘chosen for me?’ I thought he was MY chosen. As in, I chose him.”
“You did. Eventually. But your future was seen from the moment you were born.”
“I know all about the stupid prophecy,” I grumbled.
Peter studied me closely. “Then you know Mihra had trouble with you.”
“I know she got it wrong,” I said, too stubborn to admit I didn’t exactly know where he was going with this.
Peter cocked his head. “Which time?”
“I… What?”
“I thought so,” he said to himself. And then to me, “When you were born, your mother went to Mihra—as did all of our people upon the birth of children. It’s a tradition that dates back thousands of years.”
“So, you’re saying the moment a Zorovian baby is born, every single Mom and Dad ran to find out who their kids would be attracted to?”
“Not exactly. Most of them, well, all of them went to an oracle for visions of their child’s destiny. Their jobs or positions in our workforce. Their talents, gifts, capabilities. What they would accomplish. And they used those visions to help shape a child’s education and training. To help them become their best versions.” He raised his eyes to mine. “The problem was that the oracle could never see any of that with you. None of your gifts or talents. Not even what kind of leader you would be. Only your choice of mate.”
“This is insane. You can’t predict love,” I said.
Could you?
Peter went on as if I hadn’t spoken. “True to her prediction, you and Xander met as young children and became instant friends. As time wore on, you became closer. Your friendship began to grow into something more. The day of your twelfth birthday, you declared Xander your chosen. On the same day, Mihra had another vision about you.”
“What was it?” I prompted.
“This one was different from her other prophecies,” he said quietly. “Clouded.”
“This is the thing you and Eamon were talking about the other night,” I said flatly.
He nodded. “She said when the time came for you to return and face the evil that your judgment would be clouded by a darkness in you.” He glanced at me then away as he said, “She saw you being consumed by Tharos.”
I blew out a breath.
Whatever. Mihra was obviously full of shit—but that didn’t stop a small seed of doubt to root inside me. “You think choosing Xander had something to do with it?”
Peter shook his head. “I don’t know. The two events happened on the same day. At the time, people wondered.”
“You should have told me,” I said, letting the accusation lie between us.
“I know,” Peter agreed.
“Why didn’t you?”
“I know you, Alina. Better than anyone else. And I know that if someone else tries to tell you how to live or who to love, you’re going to run in the opposite direction.”
“Damn right,” I muttered.
Peter offered a rueful smile.
When he didn’t say anything, I sighed and said what was obviously his whole point. “And here I am running toward him all over again.”
“Your future has always been wrapped up in his. I’m not telling you to walk away. Only to be careful. Most people will embrace you two together, but others… They haven’t all forgotten Mihra’s second vision.”
“It’s stupid,” I muttered. “One woman shouldn’t have this much power.”
Peter’s brows rose.
“I was talking about Mihra,” I added.
He nodded. “Maybe so. But thousands of years of tradition have solidified their belief. If you speak against her, they’ll see it as an attack against the oracle, and if that happens…”
“My throne will be lost,” I finished for him.
He didn’t correct me.
I stared at my hands until it was clear they weren’t going to magically make this any easier. Xander had been right about one thing: everything was about politics around here.
“Does Xander know all this?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.
“Yes.”
Peter’s confirmation only added to the knot in my stomach that had been growing throughout our exchange. Everything I’d said last night had come back to bite me in the ass. I still meant what I’d s
aid to Xander—normal people didn’t have to know where things would end up in order to begin them. But Peter’s warning was warranted. Shallow but warranted. If Xander and I got together, would the people embrace that? Or would they worry about Mihra’s second prediction?
“Obviously, this is a lot to think about,” Peter said. “Especially on top of the threat we’re facing here. I’m sorry everything’s coming at you at once. I don’t want to add to that, but you needed to know. And I wanted it to come from me.”
I nodded, too lost in my own crazy thoughts to summon words.
Peter rose and came to sit beside me. He put his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder in a paternal gesture. “I’m here if you want to talk about anything. Okay?”
“Thanks,” I said, exhaling heavily.
He offered a small smile. “Follow your heart, Alina. It is strong and true and it won’t lead you wrong.”
“I’ll try,” I told him. “I just need my brain to stop screaming at me so I can hear it.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple and then rose. “Well, then. I’ll do my part and leave you to soak up the silence for a bit. I’m going to shower and put on some fresh clothes. Then we can talk more about our next steps today.”
“Hey, Peter?” I called, and he paused to turn back. “Thank you,” I said.
He softened, his chin dipping once. “No need to thank me. Just be who I know you are. The rest will come.”
He turned and disappeared, leaving me alone to find myself.
Ten minutes later, I had fresh clothes and clean teeth but still no real sense of the girl Peter saw inside me. If anything, his warning about my choices in love only confused me more. I’d spent my entire life training to be a leader, but I’d never once considered all the things I’d have to give up in order to be one. Apparently, those things weren’t things at all. They were people.
From down the hall, I could hear the shower running in Peter’s bathroom. The rest of the house was quiet and still as I padded toward the living room. I wondered if Xander had just gone home or if he really had just come out here and crashed on the couch like he’d said…
The Girl Who Called The Stars Page 17
