Chapter 202

Agnes

“Your eyes are drooping, kiddo.”

“Are not!” Thea insisted, even as her eyelids fluttered shut for a moment as she said that. “I’m just… blinking.”

I snorted and shut the picture book I was reading. “Those are some awfully long blinks, Thea. Your new room will still be here when you wake up in the morning.” I winced slightly, trying not to picture flames licking up the curtains. “Promise.”

Thea sighed and nuzzled down into her blankets. “Alright…”

Elijah, who’d been sitting on the other side of the bed, tucked her in and leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Time for sleep now, princess. It’s been a big day.”

“The best day,” Thea mumbled with a wide yawn as she finally allowed her eyes to shut and stay shut. “The best birthday ever.”

I tucked the blankets more snugly around her, making sure her favorite stuffed animal—the pink pig with our recorded message—was within easy reach. Then I bent down to whisper in her ear.

“Sweet dreams, my daughter.”

The word felt so different on my tongue now. Not just a term of endearment or a technicality, but a biological truth. My daughter. Born of my body. Found after seven long years of searching.

Elijah and I lingered for a few moments, watching as Thea’s breathing deepened and slowed. Her face in sleep now was even more peaceful than I’d ever seen it. Thea was young, but I knew she felt the same relief we all did now that we knew the truth.

“She looks so much like you when she sleeps,” Elijah murmured, glancing at me. “I was always too afraid to say it before, but it’s true.”

I nodded. Now that I knew the truth, I could see the resemblance clearly—the shape of her ears, the curve of her eyebrows, the way she tucked her hands under her cheek when she slept.

We slipped out of the room quietly, leaving the door cracked open just the way Thea liked it. Then, we headed down the hallway to our own bedroom.

Our new master suite was massive—easily three times the size of my old bedroom. The walls were painted a warm cream color, the floors a rich, dark hardwood. Floor-to-ceiling windows along one wall looked out over the gardens, although now they showed only darkness and the occasional flash of fireflies. The moon was barely a sliver outside, hardly enough to illuminate the estate grounds.

As we stepped into the room, I hesitated briefly in the doorway, just taking it all in. Before, I’d had my own bedroom; then, once we’d gotten married, Elijah had slept in my room while still keeping his things in his old room.

But now our spaces were entwined. The room wasn’t lived-in yet, still new and smelling of fresh paint, but soon it would be a space that smelled like both of us, contained my dog-eared books and Elijah’s suits. The walk-in shower in the en suite bathroom would have my hair products and his shaving equipment.

Ours. Not just his and mine anymore. Not his daughter. Our daughter. Our life.

“Wine?” Elijah asked, heading toward the small bar that was tucked into a corner of the room. It was a globe that, when opened, revealed a small array of drinks. Just a bottle of whiskey and a bottle of red wine were in there now—for the occasional nightcap.

“Yes, please.” I kicked off my shoes and padded across to the sitting area, where a fire was already burning low in the fireplace. Someone—probably one of the staff—had lit it earlier, and the warmth filled the room pleasantly.

I curled up on one end of the sofa, tucking my feet under me and watching as Elijah poured two glasses of red wine. He looked relaxed, happier than I’d seen him in weeks. The strain of the past month seemed to have melted away the moment Thea had thrown herself into my arms, declaring that she’d always known I was her mother.

“Here you go.” He handed me a glass, then settled on the other end of the sofa, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

“Thank you.” I took a sip, letting the rich flavor roll over my tongue. “For everything. Not just the wine.”

He smiled. “You don’t need to thank me, Agnes. None of this would have happened without you.”

“That’s not true. You’re the one who went to see Olivia. You’re the one who believed her crazy story and sent out for those DNA tests. If it had been up to me...” I trailed off, shaking my head.

“If it had been up to you, what?” he prompted.

I sighed. “I probably would have just kept on believing Thea was Olivia’s. I was too scared to hope otherwise.”

“But you always felt it, didn’t you? The connection between you two.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “From the very beginning. Even when I tried to fight it.”

We fell silent for a while, just sipping our wine and watching the fire. It was a comfortable silence, the kind that can only exist between two people who truly know each other. Who trust each other completely.

But in the silence, my mind inevitably wandered to Olivia’s unexpected offer at the grave site. She knew a way that Elijah could unmark her. Could it be true? Or was it just another manipulation, another lie designed to get what she wanted?

“Are you really going to hear Olivia out?” I asked, setting my wine glass on the coffee table. “About the unmarking thing?”

Elijah’s expression turned thoughtful. “I think I have to. She has nothing to hide anymore—no reason to lie about this. And we could use all the help we can get.”

I glanced down at my hands, which were cool and calm now. No sign of the fire that had raged through them and destroyed our home, and the scars from my first incident were long gone by now. But I knew it was still there, dormant beneath my skin, waiting for another moment of stress or fear or even passion to ignite it.

“I need to get these powers under control,” I said quietly. “Before something worse happens.”

“You have your safe room—”

“Yes,” I said, glancing at him, “but what if I don’t get there in time? I don’t want to destroy our home again.”

Elijah scooched closer and wrapped one arm around my shoulders, tugging me close. I let my body relax against him, my head resting on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed me.

“I’ll figure it out,” he said. “But I don’t want you to worry about unmarking Olivia. That’s my task to focus on.”

I furrowed my brow. “And what do you expect me to do in the meantime, while you’re out there saving the day yet again?”

He shrugged. “Be happy with Thea,” he suggested. “Focus on your work. Help plan the feast to thank everyone who helped rebuild the house. All the normal things that make up a life.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. Normal things. Once, the idea of “normal” seemed like an impossible luxury. And yet here it was, within my grasp.

“I can do that,” I said, moving my hand to lace my fingers through his.

Elijah nodded, then his hand found my chin, tilting my face up toward his. Our eyes met.

“I love you, Agnes,” he said simply.

My heart fluttered. I’d never get tired of hearing that. “I love you, too,” I whispered.

His lips met mine gently, but with a fervent passion behind the touch. As his fingers lightly dug into the flesh at my hip, I felt that familiar heat building inside of me. But this time it wasn’t the destructive fire of my elemental abilities—it was desire, pure and simple.

When we finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Elijah smiled down at me. Without warning, he stood, scooping me up into his arms.

“What are you doing?” I giggled into his neck.

“Taking my wife to bed,” he replied, carrying me toward the massive four-poster. “Our bed, in our home, where we belong.”