His dark voice trails down her spine, lighting a path of desire that renders her breathless. "If only I were in a position of no consequence."
Alia's breath wavers when the pad of his thumb slowly glides across her bottom lip.
"Then I could give in...
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"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." - J.R.R. Tolkien
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Valen doesn't elaborate, and Alia hesitates to press further. Then what are you? She tries to ask, remembering how she used to look at his strength and presence and wonder if they were the product of Evropí's handiwork. But now with this knowledge of Velora and realms, all she can surmise is that whatever he is, it's anything but mortal.
Her lips part, ready to voice the question, but then she stops. Brows furrowing, Alia sits up and turns to face him, hand still on his chest. She can feel the quickening of his heart, and it makes her gaze snap to his.
Fear.
He turns his head, jaw clenching as he loosens his hold around her waist.
Raising a chilled hand, Alia gently glides her fingertips underneath Valen's right eye, her gaze filled with concern. "Why are you afraid?" she whispers, hand moving to caress his cheek.
She can sense the battle in his mind as he contemplates answering her. Still, he refuses to meet her gaze, and his voice is just as quiet as hers when he decides to speak. "Please," he says, "don't... ask."
Alia tilts her head, the line deepening between her brows.
"I do not wish to lie to you," he explains, "but I... I fear telling you the truth."
"The truth?"
He finally meets her gaze, but he doesn't say anything more.
Alia frowns, and then she realises just what it is that he wishes to keep to himself:
What he is.
She moves her hand back to his chest, opting to lean her side against him for a second time. "Okay," she tells him. "I won't ask." Regardless of what he is, mortal or immortal, as long as he stays by her side and loves her just as she loves him, then she'll spend the rest of her life a happy woman.
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