Chapter 12
The morning was quiet, the world still among the soft waves of fog drifting over the forest floor. While it was beautiful with beams of sunlight cutting through the foliage overhead, it’d been impossibly cold last night and the ground too hard, leaving my joints stiff.
I had hardly slept a wink, and that left me…irritated. The others surely wouldn’t have coffee. Perhaps tea, but that didn’t feel strong enough.
I wanted to bathe in a steaming bath of coffee, or better yet, stand beneath a hot waterfall with my mouth open until my body—namely my eyelids—didn’t feel as if it was weighed down by stone.
At the sound of footsteps, I bit back an audible groan of frustration.
“You’ll have to talk to me eventually.”
“No, Wr—” My grip on my bag tightened, a deep sigh leaving my lungs. “No, I don’t.”
Exhaustion had long since swept through me. My muscles screamed, my body and mind tired, and my patience had worn thin. We’d been traveling for an entire day, and while I had ridden horses my entire life, I’d never done so continuously and certainly not in a damned gown. I should have taken the clothes Iaso offered, but I let my foolish pettiness decide against it. I’d been silently kicking myself since the moment we left.
He braced a hand on the tree trunk over my head when I stood and slung the bag over my shoulder. His body caged me against the tree, but I kept my eyes firmly locked on my boots, dangerously close to his large, black leather ones. Rolling my eyes, I swallowed hard and tried to focus on the foliage peeking up around our feet—anything but him.
“Elora,” he whispered, “you can’t ignore my existence forever.”
My head tilted to the side, my brows raised. I could.
I didn’t bother disagreeing, though. I’d be playing right into his hand; he wanted me to react, if only to engage with him, angry or not.
I’d been avoiding him in every way since we’d left, not even daring to look upon his face for fear we’d accidentally lock eyes. I didn’t want to see anything in his expression that would soften me. If I looked into his devastating eyes and saw he was hurting too, I would cave. I always did. My heart bled for others, and I wasn’t ready for that. I was allowed to be angry and upset, and it wasn’t fair of him to expect anything else.
“What did you expect me to do?” I shook my head. “Did you think I’d be happy? Did you think I’d smile and pretend you’re just Wryn, the apple orchard owner?”
He didn’t immediately respond. My eyes darted around our feet, landing on his before following them upward to his trousers, but I forced myself to stop before I reached his knees.
His finger touched the underside of my chin, and I tensed, my breath hitching. My grip tightened on my bag, and as he lifted my chin slowly, I averted my gaze to the forest surrounding us. The others had left already, conveniently leaving us alone.
“Sun ray,” he whispered, “look at me.”
I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip, but stopped abruptly when his thumb ran across my lip gently.
“Please.” That one word held so much weight, my chest nearly caved in.
“I… I don’t…” I didn’t know what to say, but none of this felt fair. I shouldn’t be forced to look at him. I shouldn’t be forced to speak with him. “I shouldn’t be here.” The words spilled from my mouth, a thought escaping.
The air stilled between us, and I bit back an apology threatening to escape, because I didn’t owe one. I didn’t say anything untrue or unwarranted. This may not have been a kidnapping, but it was undoubtedly coercion. He owed me one.
He dropped his finger, and my breath left me like I’d been holding it, my shoulders slumping. He took a step back, followed by another.
“You’re right,” he said. “You shouldn’t be, and…” I winced and clenched my jaw, even though he agreed with me.“I’m sorry, Elora.”
Leaves crunched underfoot as he walked away, and I lifted my gaze to watch him go. He ran a hand through his hair, his abdomen heaving in a deep sigh. For a moment, I wanted to run after him and turn him to face me, to see the silver eyes I’d avoided for the last twenty-four hours, because I knew they’d be brimming with emotion, whether that be anger or regret or hurt or…
I shook my head, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, and followed after him toward the horses and the rest of the group.
I didn’t know what I’d find on his face, but I didn’t think it’d be an explanation for why he did this.
He hadn’t given a reason to Godrick or to me, and that was what I needed most. If I was to be ripped from my family and home, it’d better be for a damned good reason, and right now, I couldn’t think of a single one worthy of this.
When I laid eyes on the group, however, my heart sank.
“Where…Where is mine?” I asked, suddenly feeling frantic. My eyes darted around the small clearing, searching the trees for any sign of the dapple-gray horse but finding none.
“It seems the knot came loose in the night,” Iaso said.
I stared at her, mouth open, heat seeping into my cheeks. “We had stable boys in Auryna. I didn’t… I do know how to tie knots, just not leather ones, it seems.”
“They’re a bit more difficult,” Ewan said with a shrug. He stood close to Iaso, and his eyes followed her as she strolled toward me, like he needed her nearness in any way he could have it. “It’s different than tying rope.”
“I didn’t realize,” I sighed.
“We tried searching for him,” Ewan said, “but we haven’t seen him anywhere yet. He’ll find us eventually, though. He always does.”
“We should’ve checked the knot, considering he tends to run when he can, but until he shows back up, you can ride with me.” Iaso tugged her bag around her shoulder and yanked out another dress. She chuckled as she handed it out to me, her mouth tilting up in a small smile. “But you will change. I’m not riding pressed up against all that tulle.”
I eyed the dress and couldn’t stop the cringe that pulled at my lips moments before a laugh bubbled in my throat. I covered my mouth as my sanity started to slip. She lifted a brow at me, and I laughed harder into my hand.
“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head.
First, the engagement, then Wryn, then this damned dress and travel and poor sleep. Now this? My damned horse was gone due to my own careless mistake.
My body shook as the laugh slowly turned into sobs, the choking sound stifled by my hand pressing over my mouth, harder and harder. My eyes brimmed with tears, burning until one slipped past my lashes.
“I’m sorry,” I managed, shaking my head. “I’m?—”
Large arms wrapped around me and spun me into a solid chest. The scent of sea and storms enveloped me, and I broke. My hand moved from my face to clutch at the shirt I was pressed into. His hand cupped the back of my head, his other wrapped around my shoulders, but he said nothing.
No one did, not for a long while.
“You can ride with me,” Wryn finally said. “The others have gone ahead.”
I stayed pressed into his chest, my arms wrapped around his waist. “Can I borrow some trousers?”
He paused, his chest rising and falling before he released a small chuckle. “Of course. Although, they may be a tad bit big.”
My own laugh left me then, hoarse and broken. “Do you have a belt?”
“Yes, I have a belt. Do you want a shirt as well?”
Unwinding my arms from around his waist, I stepped back and dropped my eyes as I wiped my cheeks. “Yes, please.”
He pulled an outfit from his bag and handed it to me in silence before striding back to his horse to pull a brush from the saddle bag. With soothing whispers, he brushed the coat down its neck, and it leaned into him, shifting on its feet to move an inch closer.
Quickly, I dropped my bag and pulled the long shirt overhead before I reached around to unlace the corset. I strained to reach the knot, my shoulders burning, and barely managed to grab the string and yank. It loosened slightly, but not enough. I suppressed a groan and a scream of frustration. With a deep breath, I reached again but couldn’t feel it at all this time, and I was going to tear a muscle if I contorted any farther.
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath and dropped my arms, letting them hang limply at my sides. Tilting my head back, I took a deep breath before glancing at Wryn, still standing with his back to me. “Can you help me?”
I waited for his reply, but he said nothing, his footsteps growing closer my only answer. I swiped the hair over my shoulder and turned as he neared me. Slowly, so slowly, he lifted the shirt to reveal the corset strings. He held it up with one hand as his other loosened the strings bit by bit, and I had to cup the front of the dress to keep it from falling to the ground.
“Thank you,” I whispered, my heart in my throat.
Still, he didn’t reply. I started to step away, but he slid a finger over my shoulder blade. I tensed, my spine arching as I sucked in a breath. My heart thrummed against my rib cage, chills spreading from his touch.
“You have freckles down your back, too,” he whispered.
I furrowed my brows. “I…know.”
His finger trailed to my spine and down the center line. “Constellations.”
I barely heard the word, but my breath stopped in response, my eyes frozen on whatever placeholder filled my line of sight while I imagined him staring down at me from behind, seeing even my freckles through the eyes of an artist.
“Wryn…” I took a step forward to cut off his touch, and he released the shirt suddenly, jerking his hand back like I’d burned him.
“Sorry,” he bit out, followed by receding footsteps.
My heart ached again, for many reasons—more reasons than I cared to ponder—as I removed the dress and pulled the trousers on, tucking the shirt in the waistband. Even after tightening the belt as much as it would go and rolling the pant legs up a few times, the trousers were entirely too big. I knew I looked a tad ridiculous, drowning in his clothes, but it was still better than chafing thighs.
With a deep sigh, I returned to Wryn’s side. There was no teasing or humor, no words at all, as I mounted his horse. Once I settled in the saddle, he reached in front of me to grab the horn and pulled himself up behind me. I tensed when his chest pressed into my back and his legs lined mine. I attempted to inch forward to no avail, heat burning in my cheeks.
I hadn’t ridden with someone since I was a young child, and this was very different. Two grown people on one horse forced us so close that no part of me was free of him, not even my lungs. His scent threatened to choke me as his arms wrapped around my frame and grabbed the reins.
Clicking his tongue, he tapped the horse with his heels, and we started forward, catching up with the others in a matter of minutes.
Then, we rode, not another word spoken between us.