Rider told me it would be hard to free Flame from this obsession. It was part of what made him different. But what if I could change Flame’s belief about the flames in his blood? What if he could be persuaded they were a force for good, not of evil? “If you are fire, Flame, then I stared into the fire and my eyes found you. You were the answer to my prayers all along. You took the pain of my past, and with your touch and love, you incinerated the bad and filled me with joy, such happiness, that some days I can hardly believe you are mine.”
“Maddie…” He was lost for words. But now there was hope. When he had awoken, there was none. Closing my eyes, I pressed my lips to his. Flame groaned when I did so, his hands tentatively holding me, as though he were afraid to believe he would not hurt me. I moved my knees forward, over his thighs until our chests touched. Flame gasped into my mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. As we kissed, delicately and softly, I felt his length harden beneath me. I pulled back my head. Flame stared up into my eyes. “Maddie,” he whispered, my name a prayer on his lips. “My Maddie…”
“My Flame,” I replied and smoothed the back of my hand down his cheek. Flame groaned at my words. I shifted and began to lower down onto his length. Flame’s black eyes burned into my green stare as he filled me. Tears filled my eyes as we joined, as his arms wrapped around me and he held me close. Relief and joy battled for supremacy at being this intimate with Flame again. At having him touch me, need me, be with me. Shivers broke out along my skin. I kissed Flame. I kissed him and moved my hand to his chest, over his heart. Flame jerked when I stilled my hand over the place he believed housed the flames. I had to show him I was unafraid. “Light,” I whispered into his ear as I moved up and down, pleasure building inside. “Flickers of light, casting out the dark.”
“Maddie,” Flame said, his voice shaking at my words. “I…I… need you.”
Tears streamed down my face. If this was to be our lives, falling and building each other back up, then I would take it. I would choose it a thousand times over a lifetime with no Flame. “I need you, too,” I said and let my forehead fall to his. We were silent but for our fast breathing as I moved up and down, Flame’s hands held me tighter with every second we were joined.
“Maddie,” Flame moaned low. I felt his legs beginning to shake. His hands trembled on my waist. “You are not evil, baby,” I gasped as pleasure began to build in my body, stealing my breath. “You are mine. We shall never be apart. I promise you, Flame. I will never lose you and you will never lose me.”
“Maddie,” Flame whispered, and his head tucked into my neck. Flame jerked beneath me, and I felt his heat spill inside me. I followed him over the edge, pressing as close to him as I could. Like this, we were one. No end or beginning. An infinity. Eternal flames burning together.
Flame held me close, refusing to let go. I felt his fingernails dig into my back. How tightly he held me. He needed me. He needed me to hold him. When I felt his tears on my skin, I ran my hand through his hair. “Shh, baby,” I whispered. Flame stayed exactly where he was. I ran my fingers up and down his back as the water began to cool.
I saw the fire beyond the bathroom door and was transported back to the last time we were here, in this fragile place, fighting hard to live like other people do so easily. “This little light of mine…” I began to sing. Flame made a low sound in his throat, and I closed my eyes, letting him hold me close, letting him gain strength from our embrace. And so I sang. I sang to my husband. I sang to our unborn child. I sang until my voice grew hoarse and the fire in the living room died down.
When I stopped, Flame pulled back his head, his eyes so tired and worn. He met my eyes… and there his gaze stayed. It filled me with faith, faith that he was coming back to me. That my Flame was coming home, where he was safe… where he belonged. Flame’s cheeks were pale, redness ringed his eyes, and he spoke barely loud enough to hear. “Why didn’t he love me?”
I did not think it was possible for my heart to break for Flame more than it already had a thousand times over. But it did. It broke harder and more powerfully than ever before. He stared at me so earnestly, waiting for me to respond, as if I held the answer. I did not. But I saw the despair in his eyes, felt the need to know the answer to this question by how tightly he held onto me. I looked down and saw the tapestry of scars that littered his skin—old and new wounds, all caused by one person. One wicked soul who, instead of loving his son, tortured his innocent soul until it was torn into shreds and cast into the wind. “I do not know,” I eventually said, meeting Flame’s desperate stare. Flame’s chest deflated. I held his face in my hands. “I love you, Flame. I love you each day and I wonder how anyone could not.” I smiled. “Because you are so very easy to adore.”
His hand moved to my cheek, and his thumb ran along my bottom lip. “I like it when you smile.” I tried to smile more widely, but the sadness in his heartbreaking question stole it from my lips.
“Your poppa was not a good man, Flame. I believe he was not meant to love. I believe this because you are impossible not to love.” I kissed his cheek. “AK, Viking, Asher… they all love you so very much.”
“Asher doesn’t,” Flame said. “He told me I am like Poppa.” I drew back a fraction like I had been struck by lightning. Then I thought of Asher. Of how scared he was at seeing Flame so broken, in the woods.
“Asher is in pain too. He is in so much pain, that he does not mean what he says at times.” I knew that would be difficult for Flame to comprehend. He did not know what it was to lie. He only ever spoke the truth. “And Flame,” I said, moving my hand over my stomach. This time, Flame followed my gaze. “Our baby loves you too. Our baby moves when you are near.” I tried to not show my hurt when Flame averted his eyes, when he pulled his hand from mine. I was convinced it was so I could not guide his palm to my stomach and feel the bump. I closed my eyes and drew in deep breaths. When I opened my eyes, I said, “I need us to go somewhere,” I combed through Flame’s hair with my hand. “When you are strong again. When you have rested, I need us to go somewhere.”
Flame nodded, not even questioning where. I smiled at him and saw his lips part at the sight. “Come. Let us go back to bed,” I said, and rose from the bath. I wrapped a towel around Flame and guided him back to our bed. When we were dry, we lay back down. I laid my head on his pillow and gripped his hand.
Flame’s eyes drifted shut, but I could not sleep. Everything. Everything stemmed from Isaiah. Flame never had closure. He never got to mourn the baby brother he so tragically lost. Never got to move on from that tragedy and look forward to his future. As our baby moved inside me, I knew what I had to do. I just prayed it would work. I was not naïve. I knew we had a long road back to where we used to be. But this had to be done. It would hurt him, though I was not sure how much. But after pain came healing, of this I was sure.
Maybe then Flame could embrace the miracle we had made together. Against the odds, when we both feared we would never have anyone to love, we found each other. And soon, our child would arrive. Already I carried a love for our baby that I could never have dreamed. Leaning into my bedside table drawer, I brought out a picture I had sketched long ago… one of Flame and I… us holding a baby. An illustrated prayer, representing a heaven that waited for us to embrace.