Reborn To Change My Fate-Chapter 227 - Two Hundred And Twenty Six

Derek broke the hug and turned her to hug her properly. He held her. It was a tight embrace, his arms wrapped around her like bands of steel. He squeezed her hard, pressing her against the buttons of his military coat. It felt as if he wanted to squeeze the air out of Marissa’s lungs, to merge her body with his so he wouldn’t have to leave her behind. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Marissa gasped slightly, her breath short, but she wasn’t complaining. She rested her cheek against the rough wool of his uniform, listening to the frantic, heavy beating of his heart. It beat a rhythm of fear and love.

"Alright, Alright," Marissa said softly, patting his back gently. Her voice was muffled against his chest. "You have to let go, Derek. They are waiting for you at the camp. The sun is already climbing the sky."

Derek groaned low in his throat, a sound of protest, but he loosened his grip just enough for her to breathe.

She broke the hug. She stepped back half an inch, just enough to tilt her head back and look up into his eyes. They were dark, filled with a storm of emotions—regret, determination, and a deep, aching longing.

"Go ahead," she whispered.

Derek reached up. He caressed her cheek with his gloved hand. The leather was cool, but his touch was tender. He traced the line of her jaw, memorizing her face.

"I’ll return soon," Derek said. His voice was thick. "I’ll return safely. I promise you. No arrow, no sword, and no poison will stop me."

Marissa looked at him. She saw the soldier, but she also saw the husband.

"I believe you," Marissa spoke.

Her hand moved to the breast pocket of his uniform coat. She felt the hard, small shape of the silver locket beneath the fabric. The locket that held her picture.

She patted the pocket gently.

"I believe you will restore peace to Strathmore," she said. "You are the best commander this kingdom has. You will win."

She paused, her eyes searching his.

"I’ll wait for you here," she promised. "At home. Our home. I will keep the fire burning."

Derek smiled. It was a sad smile. He smoothed his hand over her neatly styled hair, tucking a stray curl back into place.

"Mari," he said, using her private name.

His expression turned serious. The lover vanished for a second, replaced by the protector.

"Beware of your sister," Derek warned. His voice was low and intense. "Ashlyn is cornered. A cornered animal bites. In my absence, be careful everywhere. Don’t eat anything you didn’t see prepared. Don’t go anywhere alone."

He gripped her shoulder.

"I have positioned my Shadows to watch over the family," Derek assured her. "They are in the walls. They are in the gardens. Everyone will be safe. But you must be vigilant."

Marissa nodded. She knew Ashlyn better than anyone. She knew the danger.

"Mmmm," she hummed in agreement. "I will be careful."

Derek’s hands moved from her shoulders down to her waist. He pulled her closer to his body again, closing the small gap she had created.

Marissa let out a soft gasp as her hips bumped against his.

Derek looked down. His gaze dropped to her lips. The tension changed. It wasn’t about war anymore. It was about them.

"When I return," Derek said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "we’ll start trying for a child."

He smirked. It was a wicked, handsome smirk that made Marissa’s knees weak.

"A little baby girl or a boy," Derek mused. "Any would do. As long as they look like you. I want a house full of little Marissas running around."

Marissa blushed. Her heart fluttered in her chest.

He couldn’t resist anymore. The sight of her flushed cheeks, the promise of their future, was too much.

All it took was for her to part her lips slightly to speak, and he kissed her.

He didn’t ask. He just took.

He kissed her as if she was holy water and he was a man dying of thirst. He kissed her to quench his sins, to wash away the fear of the battlefield. It was a deep, consuming kiss. He tasted of mint and coffee. His mouth moved against hers with a desperate hunger, trying to say all the things words couldn’t.

Marissa melted into him. She stood on her tiptoes, her hands clutching his lapels, kissing him back with equal fervor. For a moment, the courtyard, the soldiers, the war—it all disappeared.

Derek broke the kiss. He was breathing hard.

Marissa opened her eyes. She looked around, suddenly aware of their surroundings.

A group of maids was passing by, carrying baskets of laundry. They had stopped to watch. They were giggling behind their hands, their faces red. A stable boy was grinning near the horses.

Marissa’s face turned a bright shade of crimson. Her ears turned red.

"People are watching," she said in a shy manner, burying her face in his chest. "Derek, everyone can see us."

Derek laughed. It was a rich, warm sound. He didn’t care who saw. He wanted the world to know she was his.

"When you are cute like this," Derek said, lifting her chin so he could see her embarrassed face, "it makes me want to defile order. It makes me want to tell the army to wait and stay here with you all day."

He leaned down.

He kissed her forehead. It was a long, firm press of his lips.

Then, he rested his forehead against hers. They stood there, eye to eye, breathing the same air.

"I’ll miss you dearly," Marissa whispered. Her voice trembled. "I don’t care how many times I’ll have to say it. I will miss you every second."

She leaned up and kissed the tip of his nose. It was a sweet, affectionate gesture.

"I’ll miss you too," Derek said.

He pulled back, straightening his spine. The moment was over. Duty was calling.

"They are waiting for you," Marissa reminded him, though she wanted to beg him to stay. "Don’t forget to write often. And make sure there won’t be any excuses this time about sorting units or lost letters."

Derek nodded solemnly. "I will. I’ll be more observant. I will write every night."

Marissa took a deep breath. She placed her hands on his cheeks.

"Now go," she said. "Quickly. Before I change my mind and lock you in the bedroom."

She pushed him gently toward the exit, toward his horse.

Derek took a step back. But he didn’t let go of her.

He held her hand.

He stopped. He reached out with his other hand and gently removed the silk glove she was wearing. He slid the fabric off her fingers, exposing her skin to the cool air.

He raised her bare hand to his lips.

He kissed her knuckle. Then he turned her hand over and kissed her palm. It was an intimate, reverent gesture.

"Derek..." Marissa giggled nervously, glancing at the servants again.

He looked at her. His eyes were intense.

"I’m leaving," he said.

"I know," she replied.

He turned and started to walk toward his horse.

But he didn’t let go of her hand.

He walked. Marissa walked with him a few steps, but then she stopped.

He kept walking. His arm stretched out. Her arm stretched out.

He walked until his hand strained because they were holding Marissa’s hand. Their arms were fully extended, a bridge of flesh connecting them.

Marissa didn’t want to let go. Her fingers curled around his. She wanted to hold on forever.

But she must. If she didn’t, Derek wouldn’t go. He would turn around and come back.

She loosened her grip.

Their fingers finally separated. It was a slow, sliding sensation, skin against skin, until there was nothing but air between them.

Marissa grabbed the remaining air of his presence, closing her fist as if she could catch his warmth.

Derek walked to his black mare. He grabbed the reins.

He paused. He looked back over his shoulder.

He saw her standing there, small and beautiful in the courtyard, her hand still raised.

He smiled.

"I love you, Mari!" he shouted, loud enough for the guards, the maids, and the stable boys to hear.

Marissa smiled.

Derek put his foot in the stirrup. He swung himself up into the saddle. He adjusted his cloak.

He kicked the horse’s sides.

"Hyah!"

He rode out of the gates, the sound of hoofbeats thundering like a drumroll, carrying her heart in his pocket.