Capítulo 7: My Dove, His Flower || Hael

I was not in his memories like how he consumed mine.

He didn't remember how our eyes would join across the lake whenever we'd swim in the summer—how hot it had always been in our village. He didn't remember the warmth our connected hands would create while strolling city markets. We'd never had the money to afford anything on our own as children, and we'd always been chased off by wealthy shop owners whenever I'd attempted to steal. For him.

He didn't remember how I would call him dove because of the creative way his lips curved and how his ash-blonde hair flew freely whenever the wind came. And how he would call me flower because he'd loved them, and I used to be as delicate as one back then. Even as I had been practically three years older, I'd been smaller than him.

He didn't remember how my eyes would glitter for him because my heart and soul adored him. Aspired to be kind like him. Strong like him. He'd always been the light of my life. Whatever sparkled and shone bright was him.

But he did not remember me like how I remembered him.

And I supposed that also meant he'd forgotten how I used to struggle to catch fish with my bare hands, giving him the lie that my efforts were for the dinners our families would have together. Really, I had only waded into the water and exhausted myself to impress him and prove I'd been capable enough so maybe he'd trust me to protect him.

I'd been weak for him, willing to perform any duty that would keep his eyes on me longer.

If he remembered who I was, would his eyes light up like they used to? Would he praise me for how strong I had gotten?

I doubted it.

He hated me.

And I hated myself, too.

I wasn't a good person, and after I delivered him out of reach of the Rhed organization and his family—who were all very unfortunately still alive—he would never have to see me again.

I felt the weight of his gaze on me while I cooked our fish over the fire. When I turned to catch him, he looked away, finding interest in his nails. He'd always had nice, soft hands. They were smaller than mine now, his fingers short and slender, his palms thin and supple. His nails were the same pearlescent oval that sparkled beneath any touch of light. And still, his knuckles tended to blush with the flush of his cheeks and ears.

Did familiarity flare in him whenever he looked upon me? Did his heart yearn to remember me as passionately as mine ached for him? No. That was wrong. I didn't ache for him, not anymore. I couldn't. Not after becoming…this.

He wouldn't accept a person like me.

After a few more turns over the fire, our fish were ready. I removed them from the skewers and laid them against a new slab of stone. Reyin watched me, so I took my time to keep his round eyes on me for longer. I picked the bones out of his meal and served it on my only plate. I offered it to him.

With graceful hands, Reyin accepted it and picked at the hot fish carefully. He brought small bites to his mouth.

His cheeks weren't as full as they had been when we were children. Not as rosy, either. He was a man now, after all, and he'd sprouted beautifully. I was glad to recognize his lake eyes had remained the same. A mixture of cloudy gray and innocent blue. The gray was prominent tonight. His eyes were beautiful.

His gaze was home.

A home I no longer belonged to.

I watched Reyin while he ate, trying to be discreet but inevitably failing as my adoration for him capsized my restraint. Reyin set his plate to the side, displeasure afflicting his expression as he turned his eyes to me.

Panic flared through me, but I kept my expression neutral. "Is it not to your liking?"

"Food is food. Why do you care if I like it or not?"

Because I care about you. But I would never say that. I wouldn't ruin him with it—give hints about my identity so he crumbled beneath the disappointment of who I'd become. However, a selfish part of me yearned to see if he'd cry for me. If he would crumble for me at the dichotomy between who I'd been then and who I was now. A killer. Although not for ill reason. I didn't take the lives of innocent people, although he didn't need to know that. Murder was murder, regardless of the reasons behind it.

I was still evil.

I was still a villain.

And desperately, I still wanted to be his.

Reyin had said something to me, but I got lost in my head often and hadn't caught it.

"...bathroom," he muttered. "I need to go."

I perked up. "I will take you."

"That's…" Flashes of color bloomed across his chest and the long ear he had his mass of wavy hair tucked behind. His hair had been shorter when we were children; he'd never liked it long but always let it grow out anyway. Even when he'd been teased for it. "Just point me where you think it's safe, and I'll take care of the rest."

His shyness was evident, both amusing and adorable. The corner of my lips couldn't resist lifting into a humored smirk. "I'll close my eyes if you are shy."

"I'm not shy," he grated in his most threatening voice. But then his flush darkened, canceling it out. "But I don't need an audience while I relieve myself."

"I will close my eyes," I repeated sincerely, never wanting to make him uncomfortable.

"You have ears," Reyin countered, his voice gentle and deep.

I bit back a smile, for I had almost looked at him too fondly. Steeling my expression as best as I could, I gave a dutiful nod. Then Reyin was standing, and so was I. His eyes snapped closed at what I assumed was dizziness affecting him.

"Bathroom, and then rest," I told him.

"Are you my caretaker," he asked sarcastically, too distracted with his pain to notice the hand I held on his elbow to keep him steady. He leaned into me slightly, putting his weight on me, and my heart was floating. I carried his weight. I would have carried anything he put onto me.

After leading him from our campsite, we walked through the sparse forest I had scoured thoroughly for wild animals and rogue campsites. For now, we were safe from both.

"Someone has to take care of you," I said quietly, absently, the admission a thought I'd spoken aloud. You've been neglected for too long.

Reyin huffed, but it was weak. "Are you doing this out of obligation? Or am I merchandise you need to take good care of?" He tried and failed to keep his words hard. I'd heard the trepidation in his voice, his ruddy lips quivering slightly. They were always so red, as though perpetually bitten.

If you were merchandise, you'd be invaluable, dove, and I would keep you forever.

I pretended not to have heard him and brought him to a concentration of bushes in the forest. It was bright enough from the light the overhanging moon offered. "Here should be fine," I said quietly. I would give him his privacy, but I wouldn't leave him alone. I didn't trust he wouldn't try to run off, or worse, try to hurt himself again to get at me.

After all, he believed his family had died at my hands and that his beloved doctor was missing. It broke my heart, but I understood if he believed he had nothing left to live for. Family had always meant everything to him.

And I'd been a part of that family once.

I stepped behind a tree in the distance, giving Reyin enough privacy to handle himself while also staying close enough to grab him should something jump out of the darkness. When he was finished, I rushed over at the sound of his soft voice calling my name, slowing my steps just before I reached him so I didn't appear too eager.

But I was. Eager. To be in his presence. To touch him whenever he'd allow me to.

I slipped my arm around his waist, where it was familiar, and lifted his over my shoulder. He sighed and put his weight on me. I didn't acknowledge it because if I did, he'd be stubborn about it and try to walk on his own.

I couldn't allow that.

My intention wasn't to hurt him.

It never would be.

We exited the forest without speaking, Reyin's quiet grunts reaching my ear at the pain every step caused him. The elusive leader of Rhed had vehemently expressed that during the attack on Avalon's central city, Prince Reyin was to have been retrieved unharmed. And once I discovered who'd stabbed him, I would ensure their death was long and painful for hurting who was mine.

Who used to be mine.

I was lost in my head again, only coming to when Reyin's legs gave out. I firmed my hold on his waist, catching him.

"What happened?" I asked softly. "Is it your wound?"

"There was a large rock. I didn't see it," he responded weakly.

I nodded and pulled him closer so our sides were practically glued. "I'll pay better attention."

Reyin shuddered. "Hael," he quietly breathed, sounding like he was falling asleep in my hold. "Don't let me fall," he whispered.

I held him tighter. "Don't let go of me."

PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES
_Haven

FUN FACT: As you guys continue to read, you'll learn that physical touch is Hael's favorite love language. And you'll see that Reyin likes acts of service & words of affirmation :).

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