Serpent & Dove (Serpent & Dove, #1)(130)

But that was ridiculous. I didn’t want to fight. After everything I’d just been through, after everything we’d just been through, I’d had enough fighting to last a lifetime. I raised my brows, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. “Couronne for your thoughts?”

Anxious, sea-blue eyes searched my own, but he said nothing.

Unfortunately—at least for Reid—I’d never been one to suffer silence peaceably. I scowled and dropped my hand. “I know it’s difficult for you, Reid, but try not to make this any more awkward than it needs to be.”

That did it. Life stirred behind his eyes. “Why aren’t you angry with me?”

Oh, Reid. The loathing shone clear in his eyes—but not for me, as I’d once feared. For himself. I rested my head against his chest. “You did nothing wrong.”

He shook his head, arms tightening around me. “How can you say that? I—I let you walk right into this.” His eyes swept around us with a pained expression—then fell to my throat. He swallowed and shook his head in disgust. “I promised to protect you, but I abandoned you at the first opportunity.”

“Reid.” When he refused to look at me, I cupped his face again. “I knew who you were. I knew what you believed . . . and I fell in love with you anyway.”

He closed his eyes, still shaking his head, and a single tear tracked down his cheek. My heart twisted.

“I never held it against you. Not really. Reid, listen to me. Listen.” He opened his eyes reluctantly, and I forced him to meet my gaze, desperate for him to understand. “When I was a child, I saw the world in black and white. Huntsmen were enemies. Witches were friends. We were good, and they were evil. There was no in between. Then my mother tried to kill me, and suddenly, that sharp, clear-cut world shattered into a million pieces.” I brushed the tear from his cheek. “You can imagine my distress when a particularly tall, copper-haired Chasseur walked in and crushed what was left of those pieces to dust.”

He sank to the ground, pulling me down with him. But I hadn’t finished yet. He’d risked everything for me by coming to the Chateau. He’d abandoned his life—his very beliefs—when he chose me. I didn’t deserve it. But I thanked God anyway.

“After I pulled you through that curtain,” I whispered, “I said you should’ve expected me to behave like a criminal. I didn’t tell you I was a witch because I was following my own advice. I expected you to behave like a Chasseur—only you didn’t. You didn’t kill me. You let me go.” I moved to drop my hand, but he caught it, holding it to his face.

His voice was thick with emotion. “I should’ve come after you.”

I brought my other hand to his face as well and leaned closer. “I shouldn’t have lied.”

He took a shuddering breath. “I—I said terrible things.”

“Yes.” I frowned slightly, remembering. “You did.”

“I didn’t mean any of them—except one.” His hands covered my own on his face, and his eyes bored into mine as if he could see into my very soul. Perhaps he could. “I love you, Lou.” His eyes welled with fresh tears. “I—I’ve never seen anyone savor anything the way you do everything. You make me feel alive. Just being in your presence—it’s addictive. You’re addictive. It doesn’t matter you’re a witch. The way you see the world . . . I want to see it that way too. I want to be with you always, Lou. I never want to be parted from you again.”

I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. “Where you go, I will go.”

With deliberate slowness, I pressed my lips to his.

I managed to walk back by myself, but my body tired quickly.

When we finally reached the camp, the others were preparing dinner. Coco tended a small fire, and Madame Labelle dispersed the smoke into thin air with her fingers. Two fat rabbits sizzled on the spit. My stomach contracted, and I pressed a fist to my mouth before I could puke again.

Ansel saw us first. A wide grin split his face, and he dropped the pot he held and raced toward us, enveloping me as best he could in a fierce hug. Reid reluctantly let me go, and I returned Ansel’s embrace with equal fervor.

“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear. “For everything.”

He blushed pink as he stepped away, but he kept a firm arm around my waist regardless. Reid looked as if he were trying very hard not to smile.

Beau leaned against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. “You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said we could have fun together, Madame Diggory.”

I arched a brow, remembering his naked chest shimmying in the moonlight. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought parts of the evening were entertaining.”

He grinned. “You enjoyed the performance, then?”

“Very much. It would seem we frequent the same pubs.”

Madame Labelle’s fingers still moved lazily through the air. The smallest trickle of magic streamed from them as the smoke disappeared. “I hate to interrupt, but our rabbits are burning.”

Beau’s smile vanished, and he leapt to slide the blackened rabbits off the spit, moaning bitterly. “Took me ages to catch these.”

Coco rolled her eyes. “You mean to watch me catch them.”

“Excuse me?” He lifted the smaller of the two rabbits indignantly. “I shot this one, thank you very much!”