Page 61 of Aryn

Grow some fucking balls, Cato.

I steel my spine and push through, finding Aryn in the same spot I left him. “Took you long enough,” he jokes quietly.

“Yeah,” I say, the word coming out rough before I clear my throat.

“I, uh… take it you…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely and refusing to look at me.

“Yeah.”

He nods, head falling into his palms with such defeat that I almost reach for him. My feet beg me to move—to comfort him, to tell him it’s alright, to do something other than stand here staring at the way his hair falls over his shoulders and catches the red from the moonlight.

But all I do is wait.

“I had a shaelin,” he says out of nowhere. “Once upon a time, as they say.”

“A… shaelin?”

“A wife.”

Something clenches tight in my gut—an unfair spike of jealousy mixed with the deep urge to take that hurt out of his voice. Instead, I ball my fists and force my tone to stay even.

“What happened?”

His head lifts from his palms, and I barely catch the outline of his profile before he turns away again. “It was a lifetime ago. Maelithryne was the only home I’d ever known. I traveled, sure. My people have always been curious. It felt like we were constantly searching for answers to the universe. But I always came home. I was always happy to be home.”

He waves a hand vaguely in my direction, refusing to look at me. “I’m not like you, Cato. You’re an adventurer and a fighter, full of all that fire, and I…” He trails off for a moment, taking a deep breath. “My life was never supposed to look like this. It was supposed to be quiet nights, reading my books and studying my research. You would find it so dull.”

A soft laugh escapes me as I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Sounds pretty boring,” I say quietly.

His shoulders bounce with a sad laugh as he nods. “Pranna came to Maelithryne to study. It was considered the birthplace of the Dreven, even if our roots started long before then.”

“Because of Kuu?” I ask as I step closer. I sit on the edge of the bed, forcing myself to stay as far from him as possible.

He glances over his shoulder and meets my eyes. “Yes,” he agrees with a sad smile, then turns to face the window once more. “I led our classes on Dreven history, and she was my student. We were friends for many years during her studies, and after her education was complete, she stayed in Maelithryne.”

“She was younger than you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “You think of students and teachers in the human way, Cato. Life was never so convenient here. Most don’t have the chance to learn outside their villages until they’re much older. Pranna was a few years my senior, but we were both in our eighth decade.”

“So definitely not young, then,” I mutter.

“Ass,” he snaps back, cheeks lifting in a tiny smile. “We courted for many years before we became shaelin. We were happy,” he insists before another of those heartbreaking swallows works down his throat. “Then… we had a child.”

Aryn stares down at his lap, and for a moment, I picture him sitting on a night just like this, with a smaller version of himself cradled against his chest. He’d wear that same calm, contented smile, but his face wouldn’t have the worry he carries now.

His patience, I realize. Iron clad and unwavering.

The patience of someone who held a crying baby through the night and loved every frustrating minute of it. I think of my short temper, how easily I snap at others, and suddenly feel inadequate in a way that steals my breath.

Aryn closes his eyes, hugging his arms over his middle. “My life was everything I could’ve ever imagined wanting,” he whispers. “It was perfect.”

“Was?” I ask carefully.

“Was,” he agrees. “My father asked me to become the village leader just a year after our son was born. I believed it then… that all the praying I’d done to the Fates was paying off. That my devotion had given me the life I’d dreamed of.”

The pain in his voice nearly splits me in half, and I want to reach for him again. “Aryn—”

“Zadeus’s army came only three years later. You asked me once why I didn’t put up a bigger fight.”