And she had never said it either. Not properly.
I love you, she thought at him. I love you. I love you. I love—
She burst out of darkness into light, and fell into warm arms closing around her. The physical awareness of her body was a sudden anchor dragging her down. She was so exhausted that for the first moments she had to struggle to get enough air. Each breath she took was an effort like pushing a boulder up a hill, dragging air one gulp at a time into her recalcitrant lungs.
"That's it. You can do it. Breathe for me."
It was strange to hear Reive's voice with her ears after what seemed like an eternity of laboring in the dark. And even stranger to hear Reive's voice as she had never heard it before. There was worry for her, but beyond that, he sounded warm and strong and full of life. There was a commanding note in his voice that had never been there before. He had been through hell and come out the other side and somehow matured along the way.
"Jess?" he said in that warm, wonderful voice, and she painfully cracked her eyes open.
There was sky above, and it was light. That was the first thing she saw, with Reive's head framed against it. The sky was pale blue, flecked with clouds. It looked like an early morning sky.
I was underground all night. She was still too exhausted to move. Dark clouds kept trying to roll into her vision, but she fought them back. Dimly she was aware that she was back in her human body, weak and soft.
"Not weak," Reive murmured. "Never that." He brushed her hair back from her forehead, and she fought to get her blurry vision to focus on his face. Finally her eyes cooperated and he came into slow focus, the warm bronze skin and golden-hazel eyes. There was not a trace of stone anywhere on his face, and not the slightest hint of pain in his eyes.
"You're back," she whispered, moving her lips just enough to frame the words.
"So are you." He stroked her hair back again. "Mace said you'd be very tired."
"Mace is ... alive?"
"He is. He's back at Stonegarden."
"And we're not?" But they weren't; she could hear the boom of the surf on the rocks. They were still in the grotto.
"I waited here for you. I wasn't leaving without you."
She had so many more questions to ask, but frustratingly, her body wouldn't cooperate. She was losing her grip on consciousness. Exhaustion kept trying to drag her down.
"It's all right, sweetheart. You've done enough." His fingers ran through her hair, stroking over her scalp. She was so tired that even her hair seemed to hurt. "Rest now. Sleep. I'll take you back to Stonegarden. I won't leave you, I promise."
His words wrapped around her, the warm strength in his voice. He was here. Everything would be all right.
She let go.
Jess
She slept and slept, and every time she woke, Reive was with her. Hunger finally roused her long enough to groggily wolf down the enormous bowl of stew and plate stacked with toast that Reive brought her, and then she slept again.
She woke at last, drifting out of a deep and pleasant sleep. Her body felt heavy and tingly. She flexed her hands, and looked down to see normal human hands curled into the sheets. She hadn't been entirely sure what shape she was in. They both felt equally natural to her now.
She rolled over and sat up, recognizing the room in Stonegarden where she and Reive had slept on their first night here. There were various signs of occupation: garments thrown over the backs of chairs, a half-demolished tray of pastries and other food on the table. Her eyes were drawn toward that as if by magnets. She was starving.
But mostly she wanted to know where Reive was.
"Reive—" she began, and then broke off. She didn't have to ask. She could tell he was nearby.
A moment later, the door opened and Reive came in. He was carrying a tray, and broke into a brilliant grin at the sight of her.
She collapsed on her elbows and grinned stupidly back at him.
Reive looked great. He was wearing a white T-shirt and dark jeans—probably not Mace's, since they fit him—and his black hair was shower-damp, curling around his shoulders. But the thing that really struck her, down at the pit of her belly, was the graceful, easy way he moved, and the relaxed, cheerful expression on his face.
She had never known him relaxed and pain-free and happy. Her first thought was that she was seeing the real Reive for the first time—but she realized instantly how silly that was. He had been the real him the entire time. The way that a person dealt with stress and pain was just as much of a window into their soul as the way they handled joy.
She had seen all the sides to Reive now ... or at least she had begun to. And she loved every side of him that she had seen.
She couldn't wait to see a hundred more.
"You look amazing," he said, and she realized that he had stopped in the doorway and was just grinning at her.
"I haven't showered and my hair's a mess and I'm covered with sand."
"That's what I said." Still smiling, he moved the old tray and set the new one down. "You looked like you were starting to wake up, so I figured I'd go and get breakfast. Mace said you'd be hungry."
"I could eat a cow," she admitted. She scrambled out of bed, realizing that she was partly naked, but not entirely; she was still wearing her underwear. Reive took in her body with lavish appreciation.
"You know, if you're planning to take a shower ..."
Her body tingled all over with the memory of their last shower. "I cannot wait, and yes, you're welcome to join me, but first I have to eat before I die."
She proceeded to suck down a huge stack of pancakes and a plate of sausages, while Reive sat beside her and petted her hair and occasionally stole one of her sausages.
"What day is it?" she asked when she was able to come up for air. Two large cups of Mace's excellent coffee, along with the food, was making her feel a little more human again. Or ... gargoylian. Less sleepy, anyway.
"You've been out for two days," Reive said. "Mace, surprisingly, is up and about, though he probably shouldn't be. He was hurt pretty badly in the fight."
"What about that guy? Did you, um ..."
"He got away," Reive said. He growled low in his throat; it shivered through her belly.
"I'm not glad he escaped, but I'm glad you didn't have to kill him."
"I would gladly have killed him if it meant you'd be safe," Reive muttered. He reached for a piece of toast.
"Who is he, anyway? What is he? Does anyone know?"
Reive shook her head. "Mace has his friend Gio working on it, and I guess he's going to be doing some research once he's feeling better. Well, he already is, technically, but he can't yet do that thing—what's it called? Stonewalking? Anyway, he's stuck here."
"You two have been talking," she said, surprised.
"There wasn't a lot to do other than watch you sleep. Not that I couldn't do that for hours, mind you." He booped her nose with his fingertip.
She found herself grinning again, silly with love. She couldn't believe how much lighter and more playful he was. It was amazing, the change in him. He must have been fighting so hard, spending so much of himself, just to stay on top of the pain and the worry.