Chapter 8 #3
“Aye, wife, and it seems my simple wandering life fled the moment I met you.”
“That is good, for now you have direction.”
“I need no direction and do not change the subject. Tell me what else Dea had to say?” he said, sensing there was more to her conversation with the healer.
Elara hesitated. She wanted to tell him everything, the way Dea had looked at her, the strange sense that the woman had seen something. But the feeling of dread she had gotten from her vision of being bound by a ring to Dar had her holding her tongue.
“Nothing of use,” she said quietly. “Nothing but nonsense.”
Dar moved away from the door and crossed the room. “Nonsense can hide truths.”
She took a step away as he approached. “Nonsense is usually nothing more than that.”
He closed the distance between them quickly, standing so close his body brushed hers and she felt the faint brush of his breath.
“What is it you won’t tell me?” he asked, taking hold of her chin to keep her from turning her head away from him. “Something you wish to hide or too fearful to say. I cannot keep you safe if you hide things from me.”
Her pulse quickened, though she forced her gaze to remain steady. “I hide nothing from you about the healer.”
Dar looked puzzled. “Then what do you hide? And I will wait as long as necessary for an answer.”
It was easy to see he was determined to get his way. So, she thought quick and said, “Dea told me that you will make me a good husband, give me a good life.”
Dar remained silent, his eyes remaining locked on hers, the blue specks sparking.
The fire popped softly in the grate the only sound in the room.
His hand released her chin, then caught a strand of hair that had fallen along her cheek to slowly brush it aside.
His touch lingered longer than it should have, his fingers tracing the edge of her jaw as though committing it to memory.
“When I told you to stay close, I didn’t realize how difficult that would make things.”
Elara’s breath caught, her protest fading before it could form. His hand still lingered at her jaw, his thumb tracing the soft curve beneath her ear. The space between them vanished as if it had never been there.
He bent his head slowly, giving her every chance to turn away. She didn’t. When his lips found hers, the kiss was unhurried, deep, carrying the warmth of all the words neither dared to speak. It stole her breath and left her heart pounding against his chest.
For a moment she forgot everything, the danger, the healer, the shadows gathering beyond the village.
There was only the firmness of his lips, the steadiness of his hand at her jaw, and the dizzying certainty that if she stepped away now, she would forever regret not allowing her dream, her vision, to become real.
It was a kiss, to savor, remember, linger in, and she did, far too long.
Until, like a warning, she thought of the vision that had shown her a forced marriage, the reason for the dread she had felt.
She was relieved when he drew back, his lips leaving hers pulsing from his kiss she could not deny that she very much enjoyed.
“That,” he said, wisely stepping away from her, “will make it impossible to think of little else.”
Elara managed to whisper, “That must not happen again.”
Though she wanted it to and that troubled her. Now was not the time to think of such things, to let anything interfere with seeing the healers kept from any more harm.
A faint smile touched his lips, though his eyes still burned. “I would agree, wife, but kisses have a way of arriving in their own time and often there is no stopping them.”
“We must be diligent, after all, we have a mission to accomplish,” she reminded.
“Diligent,” he repeated with a nod. “Aye, wife, I can be diligent.”
His faint smile turned wicked, and Elara knew it wasn’t the mission he intended to be diligent about, and part of her hoped he wouldn’t be.
For a heartbeat, the world outside ceased to exist—no forbidden border, no Hunters, no looming danger—only the moment between them, fragile and fierce.
Then Elara stepped back, the pleasurable sensation his kiss had set off in her finally beginning to subside. “It’s late. We should rest.”
Dar nodded once, the muscle in his jaw tightening. “Aye. Tomorrow, we leave this place.”
He turned away, tightening his cloak around him before lowering himself to the floor to sit in front of the door.
“Rest well. I’ll let no one enter,” he said, leaning his head back against the wood.
Elara watched him for a moment before getting into bed and burying herself beneath the blankets. And for the first time since she’d entered Wedderlie, she wasn’t sure whether she feared more the village or what she was beginning to feel for Dar.
He watched her turn on her side away from him, the blankets covering almost all of her.
Diligent.
If there ever was a time for diligence, it was now. He should not have kissed her, and it annoyed him that he hadn’t been able to stop himself. He didn’t need this, not now. He needed to see this done. It was all that mattered. It was all that ever mattered.
The thing that he couldn’t quite grasp was… why did she suddenly matter.