In the weeks that followed Cullen learned her body with the dedication of man who'd discovered his life's calling, and an unabashed devotion to her pleasure that Killeen would once have thought would make her self-conscious. Long resigned to not being exactly the pick of the litter, it had never occurred to her that any man, let alone one as beautiful as Cullen, would want to spend hours kissing her, tracing the scars on her back with his fingertips, studying every inch of her body with wonder and almost reverence. He was so obviously genuine, though, so very evidently aroused just by the sight of her, that Killeen found herself almost believing she was as desirable as he insisted.
His ready response to her was an astonishing delight, but so too were the moments when, both sated and exhausted, they lay together and, after so long contenting herself with sidelong glances, she could look her fill. By sunlight, candlelight or moonlight, he was gorgeous, and Killeen in turn learned every inch of him, kissed the hollow of his throat and ran her hands along his long clean limbs, memorised the pattern of muscles and scars on his sword-arm, tugged her fingers through his hair and watched his eyes drift close as she kissed him, drew back to enjoy the sight of his face, open and vulnerable with love and lust.
"Beautiful, glorious man," she whispered, and watched the smile that curled his lips. "My darling, my heart, my own." Feeling his cock stiffen against her thigh, she reached down to touch him, gently, almost teasing, and he moaned a little. Killeen smiled. "Do you like this?"
His eyes flew open and he softened in her grip. "Stop," he gasped.
She did, moved away from him on the bed for good measure. "I'm sorry."
"No —" He reached out a hand to her and she took it, holding on firmly. "My fault, not yours." A long pause, and then, not looking at her. "She — it — the demon. Kept saying that."
Feeling a little sick, Killeen said again, "I'm sorry."
Cullen heaved a deep breath, and rolled over onto his side to look at her. "I've never … you weren't to know. It feels like such a long time since I … thought about it."
"Do you want to tell me?" she asked carefully.
He managed a smile. "Not really," he said ruefully. "But I think I should. Not while you're all the way over there, though."
She opened her arms and he came into them, pressed his face to the hollow of her shoulder and, slowly, haltingly, told her all of it. By the time he reached the end he was shaking, long waves of shivering sweeping him from head to foot although the night was mild. Killeen rubbed his shoulders until she felt him begin to relax, thinking so that's why …
He'd become talented with lips and tongue but the first and only time she'd tried to return the favour he'd pushed her away with something like panic. No. Not that, Kill, please, not ever.
So that's why…
"Please say something," he said, muffled against her skin.
"I love you," she said, and felt the last of the tension leave him.
"I thought you'd … I don't know. Be horrified at me."
"Dolt," she said affectionately, and felt him laugh.
"At least I didn't think you'd gone off and got married without even mentioning it," he pointed out.
"It made sense at the time!" Killeen said defensively.
"It made no sense whatsoever," Cullen said, raising his head to look at her. "But I'll make allowances for how sick you were."
"And what's your excuse for never mentioning that your girlfriend the Herald preferred girlfriends?" Killeen countered.
He groaned. "Are you going to hold that against me forever?"
"Not forever," Killeen said judiciously. "I'll probably forgive you by the time we're both old and decrepit, doddering around with walking sticks and boring everyone who can't get away from us with stories of our glory days defeating Corypheus."
It was the first time either of them had mentioned a future beyond this room, this bed, this glorious month, and Killeen realised it at the same instant that Cullen caught his breath and went completely still.
Well, shit, she thought, and tried to find a way to take it back before she had to hear him tell her that he hadn't planned, that he didn't think, that he was sorry she'd thought that …
"I'm sure," he said softly, "that even in our dotage we'll have enough tactical sense to cut off their retreat." And then: "Kill, why are you crying?"
"I'm not," she said. "And anyway, so are you."
It was the first night they slept together without coupling, locked in each other's arms through all the hours of darkness. Killeen woke before dawn, and began to slip out of bed.
Cullen's arms tightened around her. "Where are you going?" he murmured, as he always did.
"Stables," she said, as she always did.
His grip loosened. "I swear, you love that horse more than me."
Killeen grinned, pulling on her breeches and feeling around for her boots. "Go back to sleep. When I've finished riding her, I'll be back to ride you."
His eyes popped open. "Oh, now I'm supposed to sleep?" He reached for her and she let him pull her closer. His mouth opened beneath hers, his breath a little sour with sleep, his eyes closing again as her tongue found and teased his.
Then she pulled away. "You can lie there awake, if you like, thinking about how when I come back I'll be all hot and sweaty and flushed from the exercise, needing someone to sponge me down …"
Cullen groaned, and then as she headed for the ladder, sat up. "Wait, did you say you're riding her today?"
She nodded. "Dennet said she's ready."
Firefly had been improving each day since Killeen's own recovery, but Master Dennet had only the day before studied the mare as Killeen cantered her on a lunge-rope and suggested, almost casually, that it might be time to try her under a rider again. As Killeen jogged down to the stables, she was aware of apprehension tightening her chest and turning her stomach. What if it's too soon? What if she remembers what happened last time I rode her and panics? What if I undo all the good work Cullen did and …
She came to a halt on the steps. Even the most docile, placid horse would sense the tension of a rider. Firefly … Deliberately, Killeen took deep breaths, forcing the muscles of her chest to relax, using her muscles' reaction trick her mind to calmness, as she would have before a battle. Only when her pulse was even and her hands steady did she continue on to the stables.
Master Dennet rose early, as did most who worked with horses for a living, but still, there was something about the way he leaned over Firefly's loose-box, saddle and bridle on a rail nearby, that made Killeen think he'd been there some time, had been up especially early that day.
He gave her a nod of greeting. "Ready?"
"Yes," Killeen said. "Is she?"
"As she'll ever be," Dennet said.
Killeen tacked up Firefly herself, although the mare had settled enough in recent weeks to tolerate handling from Dennet or his stable-hands. She talked steadily to the mare as she cinched the girth and buckled the bridle, crooning endearments and encouragement as much to calm herself as to calm Firefly.
Finally, she led the mare out into the training yard. The dawn was just breaking, the sun still hidden behind the keep's walls, but illuminating the sky, casting a luminescent glow down into the yard that made the dew-beaded blades of grass glimmer and gleamed off the fair hair of the man leaning on the yard's rail.
Killeen led Firefly toward him, and as she approached he ducked under the rail. "I'll go if you'd rather?" he said.
She shook her head. "No. Stay, please."
He reached out a hand to Firefly, and the mare lipped his fingers, and then, surprising Killeen, he took her free hand and lifted it to his breast, knuckles against his heart, a gesture of loyalty and fidelity older than the throne.
Before she could respond he let her go, dropped to one knee in the stableyard muck, and linked his hands for her foot.
Can you do what I do? Cole had asked her once, on the snowy march from ruined Haven. Hear people thinking?
Only Cullen.
Not, she had to admit to herself these days, always. But certainly, as she looked down at his clasped hands, his bowed head, she knew his thoughts as clearly as she knew her own.
The last time she had ridden Firefly, Cullen had boosted her to the mare's back — and they had ridden out together into the shadow, had returned, both of them broken almost beyond repair. And now he knelt, in the early light of this morning when she and Firefly both might take a step further towards recovery, waiting to lift her once more.
Killeen didn't believe it was possible for him to erase that moment in the shadow of the Breach, but then, unlike him, she'd never believed it was something that needed erasure.
She put her foot in the palm of his hands and felt his grip tighten slightly, the faintest caress of her instep, and then his arms and back tightened and uncoiled and she flew up to Firefly's back.
The mare snorted as she felt Killeen's weight and Killeen took the reins in, settled her weight firmly, as Cullen retreated to the rails. "All right, my darling, my beauty, my lovely, all right," Killeen soothed, as Firefly twitched and shivered and finally calmed.
Pressure of heels and calves, and Firefly took a step forward, another. Uneven, favouring her injured leg, but still, walking — and more and more smoothly with each stride.
And then the mare flicked her ears, shook her neck, and pulled at the reins.
Killeen let them slacken a little, tightened her legs, and Firefly began to canter.
Three, four, five eye-wateringly jolting strides and then Killeen felt the mare remember and suddenly, everything was smooth and easy, Firefly's gait regaining its old floating grace, her own body settling in to it as if neither of them had ever for a moment doubted that this was what they were made for, this union of rider and mount, two minds and bodies and hearts becoming one new perfect creature …
It lasted only a few circuits of the yard and then Killeen felt Firefly falter and drew her back to a walk.
When she dismounted though, the mare's head was high, her ears forward.
Dennet came to take the reins. "She'll do," he said, and nothing more, but Killeen felt her heart swell with happiness so keen it was almost pain. As Dennet led Firefly back to the stables, Killeen jogged across the yard toward Cullen, then found herself running, sprinting, until he ducked under the rail and she reached him and threw herself into his arms.
"Did you see her?" she demanded. "Did you?"
"I did," he said, holding her tightly.
"She'll be all right. She'll be all right. She'll —" Her breath caught in a gulping sob and to her complete surprise she burst into tears.
"Hey," Cullen said gently, loosening his grip a little to rub her back.
"I'm s-sorry, I d-don't know why I'm c-crying!" Killeen sobbed against his shoulder. "I'm h-happy!"
Cullen stroked her hair. "It's been a long road back for her."
"I k-keep doing this! I d-don't know why!" She sniffed fiercely. "Snivelling like a ch-child at the slightest th-thing."
"Kill, you nearly died," he said reasonably.
"B-but I didn't! I d-don't even really r-remember!"
"You might not remember, but your body does." He wrapped his arms around her again and rocked her slightly. "Let it."
"I h-hate it!" she wailed. "Being s-such a fool."
"It'll pass," Cullen promised. "Give it time. It'll pass."
The gentle motion, his soothing voice, began to unknot the tightness in her chest, and her sobs eased. She straightened, and he studied her, hands on her shoulders. "All right?"
Killeen nodded, sniffed. "Yes. I'm —" Her stomach gave a loud rumble, and they both laughed. "Hungry. Starving."
Cullen put his arm around her shoulders, turned her toward the stairs to the kitchen. "When are you not?"