27. A Better Man

Rahn hovered at the doorway, his hip anchored to the frame. Niklaus and Valerian were piled onto the bed with Aesylt, leaving a respectful enough distance to keep Drazhan from defenestrating them into the snow. They hadn't left her side. Valerian had a right to be there, Rahn supposed, because he loved her, but Niklaus loved her too. Both had been loving her unconditionally her whole life, even when others had failed her.

Love like theirs was something Rahn only understood with the tragedy of hindsight.

She hadn't woken at all, except her panicked rise from the wagon four nights ago, when they'd passed through the village gates of Witchwood Cross after the stress-filled ride home. "Hraz!" she'd cried, pitching forward, only to teeter back into Rahn's arms.

Four vedhmas had been coming and going regularly, but they all said the same thing.

Her body is mended. Her soul is still searching for a way back.

Rahn understood the statement so much more now than he ever could have before. He also finally grasped the true, fundamental difference between himself and Aesylt. They were both rooted to their traumas, but Aesylt had been actively searching for the joy hers had stolen from her. Rahn had run as far from his as his legs could carry him.

And then he had found joy—and ruined it. Ruined her. He'd seen the moment the dazzling light had winked from her eyes that day in the tower. It had been blazing so bright, in hope. For him. All he'd had to do was reach out and take it—take her—in his arms and forget the past, cast aside the thin reasons he'd given for why his life had room for just one passion and embrace the fear. The last time he'd loved deeply, he had watched everyone in his heart sink into the ocean. To love me is to know death, he'd said to Teleria back then, and while she'd comforted him, she hadn't corrected him.

But love was more than a feeling. It was more than joy. It was pain and sacrifice and choice. It was knowing when that love was too big to do anything but suffocate. Letting go was the ultimate act of love because there was no reward for the loneliness that followed.

"Adrahn." Drazhan rapped the wall behind him. "We need to talk."

Rahn breathed deep. He'd been waiting for "the talk." Drazhan had divided his time between Fanghelm and Hoarfrost over the preceding days, and everyone was waiting for him to announce the outcome of his negotiations with the Barynovs. "Your office?"

Drazhan turned without an answer, and Rahn, with one last longing glance at Aesylt, followed.

Drazhan pointed at the smaller chair in front of the desk and dropped into his. "Before we get into it, my gratitude is necessary." His eyes flitted upward as he pulled a steady inhale, his fingers wrapped around the chair arms. "If you hadn't known something was off with my sister, we might—we would have been too late to help her. She's alive and will eventually recover. Marek is dead, and will not, also thanks to you and your unexpected justice. Nor will the Barynovs, who now have no sons to force into my chair because Valerian is one of us now. Esker will be stripped of his title of baron and of his ownership of Hoarfrost, both of which will be passed to Valerian. Should Esker ‘reveal' there are other boys running around conveniently bearing his blood, they are ineligible for inheritance as a condition of the penance. He has until tomorrow to leave the Cross on his own, or he'll never again leave it alive." He reached for the carafe of wine on his desk but changed his mind. "When Aesylt wakes, I'll tell her that her marriage to Valerian has been undone. The minister hadn't filed the documentation yet. I have the original in hand and will show it to her, before burning it." He seemed to grow taller in his chair. "If she still wants to be Mrs. Valerian Barynov when she's recovered, then we'll give them a proper ceremony."

Rahn tried to make sense of the massive amount of information Drazhan had shared in just a handful of breaths. "I see. The worst is behind us then."

"Not quite." Drazhan opened his drawer. He set a muddy wooden squirrel on the desk and sat back. "Uli found this in the wagon. I believe it belongs to you."

Rahn's breathing slowed, but his heart soared at the sight of it. "It was a gift. To her."

"But it was on you."

"I found it when I was looking for her that night. She must have dropped it on the way to the barn, where Marek..."

"Well, it's either yours, Adrahn, or it belongs to the filth pile, because it's not hers. Did you know..." Drazhan's nose flared. "I debriefed with Valerian. He wasn't very forthcoming at first. He's loyal to her. And you. But when he realized the only trouble ahead of him would be if he lied, and that he was a part of this family now, he opened up. More and more, I'm beginning to understand what drove my sister from Wulfsgate in such desperation."

"You'll get no denials from me." Rahn spread his sweaty hands down his pant legs. He'd never imagined the day he'd be left confessing to Drazhan about the weeks he'd spent entwined with his sister, but he wasn't afraid of the aftermath, not anymore. "I left her confused and hurt and then said things, horrible things, that I knew would make her hate me. I thought it was what she needed to... move on. That I was helping her. It was only after she was gone when the dread sank in, and I realized I'd gone too far."

"Perhaps it wasn't just your words," Drazhan said after a grueling pause, "but the fact she believed you'd gotten her with child and then abandoned her?"

Rahn's chest constricted. His flesh erupted in head-to-toe tingles. All those times in the land of no consequence replayed in a frantic jumble, mixing. Only in the end had they... but that would have been too soon for her to know. "She never..." Rahn brought his hand to his mouth, fighting the onslaught of emotions swelling from deep within.

"Because you fucked her in the celestial realm, you thought you could do whatever you wanted to her because it wouldn't count?" Drazhan's entire face seemed to flare. "Well, she's not pregnant, glory to the fucking Ancestors. She never was, and if she had been, her injuries would have seen to it. But she's not the same, is she?"

"You're expecting me to defend myself," Rahn said slowly, no longer tethered to the seat, to anything. She'd come to him, scared and needing reassurance, and he'd offered only pain and rejection. Of course she'd sent for Valerian, because he'd never let her down. And he'd married her, knowing the potential child wasn't his, because he was a better man than Rahn had ever given him credit for—a better man than he himself could ever be. He cleared his throat. "To do so would insult us both, and enough damage has been done."

"I wasn't expecting you to be stupid enough to defend yourself, but explain yourself? I'll take even a smidgeon of that."

Two truths existed in Rahn: the one he'd fed himself to quell his swollen conscience, and the unadulterated truth, without qualifiers or self-deceptions. He'd given too much power to the first, at the expense of the second... at the expense of the only woman he'd ever let into his heart. "It began as a way to save the curricula. I don't know when exactly, but at some point, perhaps at different times for each of us, it became more. Too much more. I think Aesylt believed that if we both wanted it enough, we might find a way, that... love would find a way, but I knew what she refused to see. Even if you'd have blessed our union, I'm not..." Tears stung his eyes. "I cannot give her what I cannot even find for myself."

"Love." Drazhan stretched his arms to the corners of his desk with a steely look at the stack of papers in front of him. "You aren't the first man to hurt the woman he says he loves. But this woman has someone stronger looking after her, and I don't care if your love is bigger than the fucking White Sea, Adrahn. It's harmful. It broke her. And you won't get a chance to mend it, because by the morning, I want you gone. I don't care where you go."

Rahn shook his head wildly. "Drazhan, I need to stay at least until she wakes up. I have to apologize, to make things right?—"

"I'll send you with any resources you need to take you where you choose. But you will not return. You will not see my sister again. And when she asks where you've gone, I will tell her the truth. That Adrahn Tindahl is a coward who could have sat here in this room and fought for her but didn't."

"I won't deny any of that is true, but I failed her once, and I won't—I can't let her down again. I need her to hear it from me."

Drazhan didn't seem to hear him at all. "Aesylt will never have to settle for any man who wouldn't lay it all down to protect her." He stood. "If you're wondering why I haven't killed you, my wife would call it character growth." He snorted. "Or maybe I just don't want to look my baby sister in the eyes again and confess yet another way I've hurt her. But if you're not gone by noontide tomorrow, character growth can go fuck itself."

Rahn pushed to his feet with a shaky breath. "Then kill me."

Drazhan rolled his eyes. "Don't leave on my account, Adrahn. Do it for her. She has everything she needs here, but she'll never see it as long as you're here. You're a millstone about her neck, blinding her from what's real, only offering ephemeral glimpses into what happiness might look like. That isn't love. It's selfishness. If you are actually capable of love, this is how you prove it."

Rahn balledthe letter and hurled it into the hearth, where it landed next to a dozen others that weren't remotely adequate.

Say little. But say enough. Every attempt had borne those objectives in mind, and they'd all come miserably short of what he needed to say. Drazhan had agreed to deliver the letter in place of a more meaningful good-bye, but only if he approved of the contents.

I see myself now so clearly. You gave this to me. You opened my past, so I could have a future. Nothing I taught you over the past year comes close to all you've taught me. You have such a brilliant mind and?—

He discarded the thirteenth attempt.

Drazhan was right. Rahn was a selfish coward. And to bear his heart fully, on the eve of offering her freedom of all they'd done together, would be the most craven act of all.

Rahn tossed the fourteenth try into the fire.

You are as imitable as the stars in our interminable sky. And I am not fit to stand in your shine.

He tore his hands down his face and let them land on the desk with a defeated thud.

Only a fool would walk away from a love as powerful as ours, so I must be the greatest fool to have ever walked this realm.

"No, no, and no," he muttered, starting over again.

When you asked me if I loved you, I have never told such a lie as that one. And had I not worked so hard to hide it, to fight it at every step, you'd have seen the lie as clearly as if I'd claimed not to require breathing for survival.You'd have known that only the mind can deny what the heart has decided. I know all this now, but it means little when I have hurt you more than I could ever atone for. I have hurt the person I love most in this world. You. Only you. Always you. And it is with love that I leave your life forevermore, so you can step into your promising future knowing you deserve so much more. Never settle, Aesylt. Never compromise on what you need. If I was a better man, I'd have met you right where you needed me to.

Rahn groaned and threw the balled attempt at the wall.

To offer his raw honesty was not kindness. It was selfish. Love would be giving her just enough to find peace and move on, without him.

He withdrew the last piece of vellum and went to work.

Aesylt watchedthe attendants add logs in her hearth as Drazhan spoke. He'd filled in the parts lost to her—some of them anyway. He was still withholding something.

Marek was dead. Her marriage to Valerian had been nullified, but he had become an honorary member of the Wynter clan for his loyalty. The Barynovs had offered a full and unconditional surrender, though Drazhan had his own conditions, which, as far as Aesylt was concerned, were the most gracious he'd ever offered anyone. He'd always had a soft spot for Esker, she thought, for like Fezzan, he'd stepped up for Ezra's kids after the Nok Mora, and it might have been the only reason the man was still breathing.

Best of all, Drazhan had said, smiling at her from his awkward pose at the end of her bed, she was going to make a full recovery. And the village would have a wonderful year ahead, thanks to all the meat she'd secured in her hunt with Lord Dereham.

Aesylt pulled herself up against the headboard. She tried to smile. She wanted to, for him. As light and happy as his words seemed, there was trepidation just under the surface, like more foul business was waiting around the next corner. "You said Marek was killed. Was it my doing? With the pitchfork?"

"That might've done him in, with time." Drazhan looked away briefly, but Aesylt noticed. "The scholar took his sword to him. Right through his heart."

"Rahn killed him?" Her pulse rocketed from gentle to a resounding thud at even the idea of what Drazhan had revealed. I do love you, Aesylt, but not like that. I'm deeply sorry if I inadvertently contributed to your belief otherwise were not the words of a man who had slayed a monster for her.

"Tak." The veins in his neck were taut enough to pop.

"Why are you..." Aesylt wasn't even sure what her question was. She had so many.

"He's gone, Aesylt. Left this morning. And it's for the best. For you." She angled forward to object, but he reached for her ankle and wrapped his fingers around it, steadying her. His stare was on the window. "I know what happened in Wulfsgate. I'm not angry, cub. Not at you. I know why you..." His face scrunched into a scowl. "I just wish you'd talked to me."

The truth was out then. Had come out while she was sleeping, giving everyone a chance to sit with it—everyone except her. Curiously, his even-keeled words matched his temperament. He didn't seem angry. He seemed sad, like he was losing her.

For the first time in over a decade, Drazhan was asking her to open up to him.

"He left?" She wrapped her robe tighter, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why?"

"It was the right thing to do."

"Why, wulf?"

"I told him to." Drazhan faced her. "He could have fought me. He didn't."

"No one would dare fight you, Drazhan!" Aesylt exclaimed, but her heart was shattering. Rahn had come back for her. He'd murdered for her. And according to Valerian, he had ridden in the wagon at her side, refusing to leave until they'd unloaded and carried her to her bedchamber, and he'd only left when Drazhan and Fezzan had forced him out.

"You can believe this or not, but he didn't even try, cub. He sat there, defeated and weak, and agreed it was the right thing to do." Drazhan ground his jaw in disgust. "The smartest men are often the greatest fools. He failed you. And... so did I."

Aesylt couldn't help but laugh. "You think I had an affair with Rahn Tindahl because of a lack of strong male influence in my life?"

Drazhan balked. "I said nothing of the sort."

"Your fault?" Aesylt leaned in. "Draz, I'm two decades along in this life. My girlfriends are all wed. Most of them have children of their own now. Imryll is only a year my senior and is blissfully married, readying for a second child. Either I'm too young for any of it or I'm too old to not have a strong prospect lined up, but I'm tired of being seen as the little girl who watched her brother and father murdered in front of her and has been through ‘so much.' Why does no one see the one who guided the restoration of her village? The one who never gave up and still found fulfillment through her own interests? Her own experiences?"

"I don't see you that way, cub," Drazhan said, shaking his head at the bed. "I don't."

"No? Then you'll believe me when I tell you I have done nothing with Rahn that I didn't choose for myself, and..." She pressed a hand to her chest to suppress a sigh. "I regret none of it. I fell in love with someone incapable of loving me back, but I see now that this isn't my failure. He's the one who has lost. I wish I'd never dragged Val into this, but I thank you for seeing the goodness in his heart and bringing him into our family. He's not like his father and brother. He's one of us. In a way..." The next words would hurt worst of all. "Rahn never could be. And didn't want to be."

Drazhan sat with that long enough she thought he might get up and leave. It gave her time to steady her heart, still so shattered no matter what she'd said. But if she said it enough, she'd believe it. She had to believe it. Otherwise, she'd be conceding that the greatest happiness of her life was already behind her.

"I know Hraz was your favorite," he whispered. "He would have known what to say."

Aesylt was stunned at his choice of response. "Hraz was everyone's favorite, wulf. He wasn't like anyone else, was he? But he's not here." She closed her eyes to shut out the horrible recollection of Marek's illusions. "You are. And maybe it's you I need. Did that ever occur to you?"

"He's not here, cub, because I tricked him into my taking his place in the Vuk od Varem. He wouldn't let me volunteer as his replacement, so I went against his wishes and signed my name in blood with the kyschun while he was sleeping."

"You think you're to blame for..." Aesylt's breaths trailed off. "Drazhan, no. No. Mortain sent the king to our village because he wanted you. You can envision any other outcome of that night, and they all lead to the same damnation for all of us. And that night..." Aesylt choked up. "That night belongs to both of us, but you can't know it because you won't listen when I try to talk to you about it. And I need to, wulf, because if I don't, it will never end. It will have nowhere else to go. I never feel more alone, ever, than I do when I think about what happened."

Drazhan swiped the backs of his hands against his eyes and looked up. "I'm listening now, cub."

The midnight bell stirred Aesylt.Blinking through her grogginess, she rolled over and saw Drazhan stretched out beside her atop the blankets, snoring away. He'd earned his exhaustion, just as she'd earned hers over the hours they'd talked and talked.

Aesylt slipped out of bed and stumbled a bit as she found her footing on the way to her writing desk, which the vedhmas had co-opted for their materials. A carafe of nettle water was calling her name. Her throat was parched from all the talking. Her body ached from everything that had come before.

She was still shaky, so she sat to pour herself a half mug. It felt so good going down, she poured another half and then sat back in her chair, watching snow paint the world beyond the window.

Aesylt didn't know what to think anymore. She was tired of doing it. The unburdening of the Nok Mora had been a desperately needed catharsis and the mending of a crumbling bridge between her and her brother, but there was nothing left to say. To feel. To do. She'd dammed one river, only to watch the other flood the banks. She'd never believed herself a romantic, so it was embarrassing to look back on how easily she'd fallen into the trap of love conquering all battles, closing all wounds.

Some wounds weren't meant to close.

One in particular never would.

She glanced back at her brother, passed out on the bed. All these years, she'd only thought she knew him. And now he knew her too. Everything she'd done that night belonged to him as well, and his pain and shame and guilt was hers to help absolve. It wasn't the end but a beginning.

Yawning, she pushed her chair back when she saw the note sitting next to the carafe. It was folded far too neatly for Drazhan, or even Val, but it wasn't the fold that froze her in place. It was the handwriting. For Aesylt.

Carefully, she opened it and read.

Aesylt,

By now you're aware of my departure. I leave knowing you will survive this ordeal and that your life will go on. You are poised for so much greatness. I need not see the future to know it holds nothing but accomplishment for you.

You are not after hollow bromides though, so I will say what I must so you can move on. You asked me to tell you I didn't love you, but in the end, it matters not how I feel at all, only what it has done to you. Forgive me, Squish, for being the coward you rightly called me. You deserve the world and more.

You were then, and always, the best of us.

With care,

Adrahn

Aesylt foldedthe letter and crushed it to her heart. Her head rolled back, sending her tears sliding down the sides of her cheeks. I hate you. I hate you, Adrahn. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.

With a cry, she wrenched her arm back and hurled the letter into the fire. Stunned, she watched his words burn, every black singe stealing the past.

She fell to the floor and crawled over, bawling as she raked through the embers to retrieve what was left. All she could rescue was the upper corner, where her name had been written.

Aesylt.

"I hate you," she whispered, rolling onto her side on the warm stones, the corner of his letter bunched in her fist.