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that perfect world, it wouldn’t be you with
me. And I’d never trade that, trade this. Not
for anything.”
He extended his hand. An offer and
invitation.
Aelin laid hers atop his, and his callused
fingers squeezed gently. “I wanted it to be
you,” he breathed, closing his eyes. “For
months and months, even in Wendlyn, I
wondered why you weren’t my mate instead.
It tore me up, wondering it, but I still did.” He
opened his eyes, and they burned like green
fire. “All this time, I wanted it to be you.”
She lowered her gaze, but he hooked a
thumb and forefinger around her chin and
lifted her face.
“I know you are tired, Fireheart. I know
that the burden on your shoulders is more than
anyone should endure.” He took their joined
hands and laid them on his heart. “But we’ll