Rising Flames | Throne of Glass

48

No one stopped Aelin as she approached the port. Despite utter exhaustion and weariness fogging up her mind and making her limbs heavy, she walked on unfaltering. Aelin headed for the fleet of ships bearing the flag of the Whitethorn House. It seemed Fenrys' persuading had worked - through whatever method he'd used.

Her heart strained at the thought of him. He'd chosen to be a slave for the freedom of his brothers.

I know, very noble. His sarcastic voice suddenly cut through her mind, and Aelin stopped abruptly before the wooden quay. Hello, Aelin.

Aelin bit her lip to stop it from trembling.

Hold on, okay? came his murmur. I'll be with you soon. I'm fighting him.

Aelin was at a loss for words.

I'll see you soon. I can't talk for too long or Maeve will notice.

I love you, was the only thing she could think of in reply. And it was true. She couldn't deny that her heart yearned for Fenrys as much as Sam, perhaps even more.

He chuckled, the sound warm and husky. I love you too, Fireheart.

And then, as if a string had been cut, he was gone.

~

Don't scare me again.

Indeed she couldn't have promised him that. Sam paced restlessly up and down the quay, scanning the horizon of the port. He waited for Celaena alone - Enya had taken Rowan and Connall below decks to tend to; they'd lost a lot of blood.

Honestly, he had mixed feelings about all of this.

He knew he was being selfish, but he didn't want Celaena to be queen. He loathed this current situation - a war was about to fall upon them, for the love of the gods! He just wanted her to be... well, Celaena.

That carefree attitude and cocky smile had long disappeared, swamped by the fatigue and ever-present tiredness in her eyes.

He missed her.

His train of thought was halted abruptly as he caught sight of a flash of gold. Sam rushed forwards and barrelled into Celaena's arms, though he much knew it should have been the other way round. 'Gods above, I was beginning to think you'd never make it.'

Celaena hugged him tighter before she drew back, scoffing. 'Of course I would have made it back.'

'It appears Fenrys didn't.' He didn't try and conceal his hatred for the Fae male, nor the satisfaction in his voice.

Celaena, surprisingly, laughed. 'He's not as bad as you think, Sam Cortland.'

Hearing his name upon her tongue made his heart flutter.

'He's not that bad?' he asked, only half paying attention.

'No,' she hummed lightly. 'Really.'

Sam shook his head in adamant disbelief. 'Sure.' He gripped her hand, stating firmly, 'And please, gods, have someone tend to your wounds. You were stabbed in the side.' Her palm was rough and calloused in his hold, familiar and warm.

Celaena chuckled lightly. 'How stupid of me to think you hadn't noticed.'

'Who did it?' he couldn't help asking, voice dropping lower. She didn't reply, and he swung his head round to watch her features carefully. They gave nothing away, and he spat, 'It was Fenrys, wasn't it?'

They boarded the ship, and the captain's yell to set sail was almost unheard to them as he dragged her to their assigned cabin.

She said softly, 'Don't let your prejudice blind you. It's not what you th-'

Unable to contain his worry and anger, he hissed, 'Don't give me that bullshit. It's exactly what it looks like. Stop trying to defend him. Rutting hell, he hurt you!'

Celaena was silent, and when she finally lifted her head to look him in the eyes, he flinched at the fire that burned within those golden rings. 'Do not take that tone with me. Don't challenge me again - especially about Fenrys.'

He forgot that she really was a queen sometimes. That she had royal blood in her. He'd always thought of her as the wild, girlish assassin he'd grown up with. He truly had forgotten that beyond Celaena Sardothien lay Aelin Galathynius.

He bit back a retort and instead asked, 'Do you need a healer?'

'No,' she replied curtly. She narrowed her eyes and flickered into Fae form. Though that magic shit was unsettling... she was beautiful both ways, Sam thought. Her cuts slowly healed themselves, and the slight pain in her expression dissolved, her features falling relaxed once again.

Celaena slumped to the ground, shifting back to human form. 'I want to tell you something.' Not need, not must, but want. Something trivial. Yet from the tone of her voice, this was not going to be good. He braced himself.

'Fenrys Moonbeam... is good.'

Of all the things-

He said through gritted teeth, 'Why are you so stubborn in insisting that he's not evil? What proof do you have? Why do you even think this?'

'Maybe if you bothered to think, you would know!' she snarled back at him. 'A blood oath bonds all Maeve's Cadre of warriors to her. The only exception is Fenrys.'

He snorted.

'You cannot break a blood oath. Only with the ruler's consent.' Celaena tugged her knees to her chest and glared up at him, a new, different pain evident in her eyes. 'If you'd bothered to check, you'd have seen that Rowan and Connall are free from the oath. Perhaps they're celebrating.' She sniffed. 'They're free because of Fenrys. He gave up his freedom for theirs.'

'So? He's ended countless lives before. That single act of kindness doesn't make up for it.'

'Are we not assassins?' she said. 'Have we not ended lives too? I hope you justify your accusations before you start hurling them!'

He refused to let the shame show in his burning cheeks. 'Answer my question, then.' Wrinkling her face, she stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze. Her mouth was a thin, tight line.

It wobbled.

Sam felt as if he were on the edge of a cliff, and one little breath of wind would send him tumbling over.

'I love him.'

Sam felt a cold wave wash over him, gut plummeting. Clenching his fists, he stormed out of the room, slamming the door, and didn't look back.