82. Chapter 82
82
Nelle
W hen I awoke, I found the curtains cast open and sunlight streaming through the windows. I was alone in a strange bed of mismatched blankets and pillows. Bare chipboard boxed in the small space, and candles along the windowsill had melted into waxen pools, dripping onto the rough floorboards below.
Where am I?
I rubbed my eyes and sat up.
The cottage. Danne. Silas Boon. Graysen—
Where was Graysen? Unease slunk through me. He wouldn’t have left me… Someone hadn’t come for us? Surely?
Swinging my feet over the side of the bed, I tugged off a thin blanket and wound it around my naked body. I silently slipped out of the bedroom and found Graysen in the kitchen with his back to me, barefoot and wearing only his adamere pants. The armor hugged his muscular legs, and I took a moment to appreciate his ass. My body still hummed pleasantly from the night before, and a blush stole across my cheeks at the memory of those hands and lips claiming every inch of me.
He stood at the wood-burning stove, cooking breakfast. Last evening, my investigation revealed that the pantry was full of dried and canned goods, leading me to believe the owners of the rustic cottage stayed here frequently throughout the year.
The morning was already warm and the blazing flames inside the stove’s belly increased the temperature even further. He’d opened the front door and all the windows as well, to help move the hot air outside. A slight sheen of sweat glistened on his golden-hued skin, and he raised a forearm, the muscles flexing, to wipe his brow. He lowered his arm, only to shake his head a moment later, I imagined, to toss the raven-black locks from his eyes .
My gaze greedily devoured the tattoos that graced his powerful arms. The Ukkenskrit tales that coiled around one bicep, the wyrmfire in whorls and swirls on the other arm, fully inked right down to his wrist, which was bound in thin leather straps and silver chains.
An icy sensation slipped down my spine as I took in his ruined back, the slashes and savage cruelty he’d endured. I was responsible for his punishment, and I still hadn’t resigned myself to my part in his mother’s death.
For a moment, I was too crushed to even breathe.
He was too busy scratching at the pan with his spatula and cursing under his breath to realize I was nearby. At least that’s what I thought, until he asked, “Hungry, little bird?”
Heavy despondency fell through me.
I couldn’t stay.
I couldn’t be with him.
I had to swift away, and keep on swifting until no one could find me. Not even Graysen.
“You know I have to leave…right?”
He stilled, his muscles contracting with sudden tension. He lowered his head slightly and he let out a sigh so quietly I might not have heard it if I wasn’t listening and feeling with all my senses. Slowly tapping the edge of the skillet with his spatula, the chink of metal on metal rang through the air. The room descended into silence again, before he said softly, “Let me have this morning…just us… please .”
The blanket tangled about my legs as I approached, and I wound my arms around his waist, resting my cheek against his scarred back. His lungs expanded with a sharp intake of air at my touch as that electric feeling zinged between us. “I want that too.” More than anything.
He was cooking something that tingled my nostrils, something a little bitter… what is that?
As I peered around his side, he lifted his arm so I could snuggle closer. His arm draped over my shoulder, and his curled fingers brushed lightly up and down my upper arm, sending waves of desire rippling through my body at every innocent stroke.
My nose scrunched as I blinked at the skillet, utterly surprised.
This…I was not expecting this. Astonishment rounded my eyebrows. “You’re making me pancakes?”
“Kinda,” he grumbled. He scraped at the lumpy mass with the spatula, trying to flip it over. The pancake had stuck to the pan and I could see there were a few already cooked, oddly shaped, and mostly burnt, stacked haphazardly on a plate. “Hellsgate,” he scowled. His inky brows slashed over dark eyes. “This isn’t as easy as they make it look.”
I scoffed at him. “It’s pancakes. They’re the easiest thing you can make.”
Nudging him aside with a hip, I stole the spatula away while hitching the blanket higher up my chest with my other hand. “Wait for the bubbles first. Once they’ve appeared, it’s ready to flip.”
He stood behind me, his bare skin touching my shoulder blades. I bit down on my lower lip to stop the moan from slipping out as I leaned into him further. His arms circled my waist, his fingers spreading wide on my hips, and while I flipped and tossed fresh pancakes onto the plate, he moved with me, our bodies shifting in perfect union. He helped me spray the pan with oil, and pour batter into a lopsided circle, laughing as I teased him with what he’d already cooked, listening while I taught him the art of pancakes.
It felt nice. It felt normal.
And Graysen and I had never been normal.
As sudden as that pleasant thought came, it was swept away again.
A different feeling, darker and more twisted, pushed me down. What was nearly stolen from me.
Graysen’s body tensed, and he whispered my name as a question. Perhaps whatever power bound us together also tied him to my emotions, and he could feel the despair choking my throat.
He swiveled me about to face him. My arms slunk around his back, my fingers skimming rough textured skin, and I held onto him, desperate for the comfort he offered. He cupped the nape of my neck, tilted my head up, and drifted his other hand down my side to let it rest on my hip. His eyes were soft when they searched mine for the longest time, penetrating, seeing me, all of me, all the parts I was wrestling with. I’m sure he already knew the answer before he asked gently, “You okay?”
I don’t know yet.
Maybe not for a while.
Maybe I’ll never get that piece of me back.
“I will be.” A lie I held onto with a death grip.
His mouth tipped up one-sided in a small smile. “Such sweet lies.” I closed my eyes, lay my cheek against his sculpted chest, and soaked in his cedar scent until I could breathe again. When I opened my eyes and pushed away to see him better, he bowed his head and stilled an inch from my lips. He stayed there, letting me decide, letting me travel the rest of the distance if I wanted to kiss him.
When my lips met his, fire banished the darkness inside and lit it up with his velvet night, his promise of wickedness. His fingers tangled in my loose, messy hair, and mine feathered through his black locks. My mouth glanced over his in a gentle, chaste move that belied the raging desire inflaming my blood. I swept my tongue along the seam of his lips and he parted them with a raw sigh of pleasure. I closed my mouth over his, and it was my tongue that slid inside, insistent on my claim. He moaned roughly, his hand sliding from my hip to cup my ass. Deepening the kiss, I pressed closer into him, my softness meeting his hardness.
Holy Skalki …I could kiss him forever.
But the bitter smell of pancakes assaulted my nostrils.
“I can smell it burning,” I said into our kiss.
“Let it burn,” he groaned before flicking the roof of my mouth with his tongue, sending a delicious shiver of anticipation running across my skin.
Even though I didn’t want to, I pulled away, turning back to the stove.
I finished cooking the rest of the pancake batter. Graysen had found this pre-made mix of pancakes in the pantry along with a carton of long-life milk. I flipped the pancakes onto plates, squirming against his hands as they roamed my body while I worked. Moaned, when he nudged his face into my wild locks, to whisper into my ear all the things he wanted to do to me, here on this counter, on the rickety round dining table, outside on the swing chair I hadn’t noticed when we’d arrived.
“Eat first,” I said, a little breathlessly.
While he rattled around in the drawers for cutlery, I drizzled honey he’d found onto the stack of pancakes. And that was when I finally saw the fading wisps of steam curling from two mugs toward the end of the chipped laminate bench. A wide grin split my face as soon as the sweet scent tickled my nostrils. I bounced on the balls of my feet in excitement. “Hot chocolate?” I jabbed him in the ribs and he shirked away with a muffled curse. “Graysen Crowther, are you about to drink sugary crap?”
Graysen snorted, rolling his eyes.
This was… What was this? An attempt at domestic bliss?
Picking up the two mugs of hot chocolate, he offered one to me…then stilled. Before my grabby hands could grasp the mug’s handle, he pulled it out of reach and swiveled around swiftly. It looked as if he was going to tip my hot chocolate into the sink because I teased him.
What the hells? !
“No you don’t!” I shrieked.
Lunging, I seized hold of the mug and wrestled it from him. Hot chocolate spilled over the mug’s rim. The hot brown liquid splashed over my hand and I licked it up with a grin, sighing— delicious. In a flurry of quick steps, I backed up and drank half of the chocolaty drink before he could stop me—one hand outstretched, warning him away.
I ran my tongue over my sticky sweet lip, letting out a pleased humming noise at the back of my throat. Smiling, I tilted my head and wagged my eyebrows. “I understand your aversion to sugary crap, but this is too good.” I lifted a shoulder, smirking. “Besides, Graysen Crowther making me pancakes and hot chocolate—how could I resist?”
However, Graysen’s gaze had dropped to his hand, cupping the edge of the wooden kitchen counter. His knuckles were burning white.
A flash of unease had my spine stiffening. “Graysen?”
He cleared his throat, loosened his fingers from the countertop, and flexed them. When he pushed off the counter he was smiling, and he gestured with his chin toward the little nook with a paint-chipped windowsill overlooking the lake. “Come on, sit down, eat.”
Maybe it was all to do with this morning and how quickly the time would pass. Pancakes and hot chocolate…a thoughtful, kind, parting gift.
And once more, sorrow pierced my heart at the thought of being parted from him.
Graysen urged me forward, pulling out a dining chair to settle me first before seating himself.
I speared a burnt pancake from the bottom of the stack and sliced it up on my plate.
Graysen pulled an appalled face. “You really don’t have to—”
“You made it for me,” I mumbled around the bite of pancake, trying not to screw my face up at the bitter taste and spill the truth. Chewing, I swallowed down the mouthful with the last of the hot chocolate.
Midnight locks ruffled as he shook his head at me. “You’re crazy.”
“I’m your kind of crazy.”
With a smile that curled my toes, he leaned over the table and I met him halfway. The words brushed across my lips right before he kissed me sweetly. “Yes, you are.”
“More,” I whined, pulling at the nape of his neck to tug him back.
“Gods, I’ll never get enough of your sunshine,” he murmured into our kiss .
Satisfied and a little lust-drunk, we both sat down to finish our breakfast.
Having slid another pancake onto my plate, I drowned it in honey to somewhat mask the burnt taste. We ate in silence, every so often glancing up and catching each other staring, and smiled around forkfuls of honeyed pancake when we did. Or I did, and sometimes he gave me a cocky wink in return.
This man who had died— almost died, I reminded myself as a rush of dark memory and despair crashed over me—found me, fought for me…
And now I’d leave him, swift myself away.
Worry of what the future held began to slowly sink into me. “What happens now?”
Dark eyes intense like a flash of lightning cut to mine. Too intense for me to hold. I glanced about the cozy little living room with its wood-burning stove and stacks of books and mismatched chairs and couch. “Why can’t we stay here forever?” I asked quietly.
When I looked back, Graysen was staring down at his hand resting on the table. Thick brows knitted together as he drew his forefinger slowly along a knot in the wooden tabletop. “I’d like that,” he said softly.
I sighed. I did too.
Then I smiled as his legs tangled between mine beneath the table.
He glanced up with a lazy grin. “We’ll sort all that out later. It’s still morning, so let’s enjoy it.”
I ran my knife over the streaks of honey coating the china plate, the scraping sound filling the silence. Curiosity and a need to know made me ask. “How did you find me when…” —it was too hard saying his name —“He’d hidden us behind Cloakers?”
Graysen stabbed the last slice of pancake and ate it, giving my question consideration, or perhaps carefully choosing how to answer me. “Whatever this is…” He motioned between us with a hand. “Whatever has bound us together… There’s nowhere you can go that I won’t be able to find you. No one can hide you from me when you’re in here.” And he splayed his hand over his bare chest. I was sure, almost sure, he was only indicating that he felt me inside him. But I couldn’t stop staring at his hand pressed above his heart.
I blinked, suddenly realizing he was looking at me with a perplexed frown.
“You’ve got that smile going on again,” he frowned, waving his fork at my face.
“What smile?”
He squinted, and his nose wrinkled. “The goofy one.”
I made a pffting noise, rolling my eyes at him, but that goofy smile got a little wider.
He rose, padded over to the small kitchen, and filled a jug with water. Returning with two ceramic glasses, he sat back down and poured me a cup before pushing it across the table with the tip of his finger.
Refreshing liquid slid into my mouth as I sipped, watching Graysen fill his glass. The wyrmfire ink shifted on his throat as he swallowed down a mouthful. Swiping the moisture from his bottom lip with his thumb, he stared through the window at the waves gently rolling up the rocky shoreline. “I’ll have to bring Caidan to this lake someday. He’d like this spot.”
As much as I didn’t want to even think about his family, I was intrigued. “Why?”
Flicking his gaze back to mine, he pulled an exasperated face. “A few years ago, Jett got it into his head he wanted to learn fly-fishing. He was bored within the first hour and bitched his ass off the rest of the afternoon.” Shrugging a powerful shoulder, he added, “Caidan took to it though, and sometimes I join him, fishing for trout and salmon.”
I huffed a laugh. “You fish?” For some reason, I found it hard to imagine him on a riverbank, or in waders striding through swiftly moving water, fishing. In fact, it seemed so ridiculous that I started to laugh, really laugh—long and hard—the kind that wouldn’t stop and gave me the full belly shakes.
When I finally, finally , got myself under control, he was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Finished?” But I saw the gold flecks in his eyes twinkling.
I nodded, wiping away the tears, and rubbed my aching cheeks.
Dark hair slid sideways as he cocked his head and arched a brow. “Fly-fishing’s not that hard. You simply need patience.” He slanted his chin toward the window where lush reeds edged part of the lake. “It’s relaxing, peaceful, and quiet.”
Turning my gaze back to the enchanting view from the cottage, a cool caress of wind curled through the open windows, bringing with it the scent of the overgrown lawn, thick with flowering weeds, and the smell of the stony shore beyond. I squirmed in my seat to get more comfortable, tightening the blanket tied above my breasts like a sarong, and relaxed. Graysen leaned an elbow on the rickety table, gazing out the window at the lake, and like he described how he felt when he went fishing for trout, a quiet peacefulness settled over him.
And I could imagine…
I could imagine what life for us might be like. What a future with him might hold.
We’d live somewhere charming. A simple cottage exactly like this one with its cheery yellow walls, bookcases stacked with worn and much-loved books, the stuffy couch and its crochet rug in clashing colors. Nothing matching—not the cutlery, nor the chipped china plates either.
We’d live beside the sea, maybe in some small coastal cove right on the Pacific shore, where I’d have the freedom to roam wherever I wanted. And every morning there would be pancakes and sunshine.
I’d find a job at a… diner. Just as Graysen had said a few days back when we’d swam in the well of water. It would be in a little town where everyone knew one another. I’d scribble down orders and pour coffee and talk to people. I’d hear about their day, learn about their families, what they liked to do, and what made them smile.
And Graysen would be a… mechanic. He’d have to learn to curb his tongue and play nice with mortals, but after we finished work, he’d pick me up from the diner with grease under his fingernails and one of those broad unrestrained grins. He’d tell me about his day as he swung me over the back of his motorcycle. I’d snuggle right behind him, and we’d ride all the roads we hadn’t traveled before until our muscles were sore and aching. Then we’d lay under the stars and we’d…
We’d…
We’d never be together.
Never live that kind of life.
Be that kind of couple.
A heavy cloak of sorrow descended over me.
On my twentieth birthday, the Alverac would tie me to Graysen’s will and it wasn’t safe to be with him with that omnipotent control he would hold over me. His family wanted to use me to punish my parents—break me, to break them. And for whatever reason, Silas Boon and the Children of the Harbinger were after me too.
I leaned my elbows on the table, kneading my temples.
Gods, my life is a mess.
I mentally sighed. So I’d swift away. To where—I had no idea. Right now I couldn’t swift anywhere. The creature inside me still slumbered and after it woke I had to know the place, or at least have seen it, to swift there.
Besides all that, I’d never been free before. I’d barely spent any time off the estate. The concept was alien. I could travel wherever I wanted. Do whatever I wanted. So where would I go? What would I do?
Reality crashed in hard, stifling my breath.
The wooden chair squeaked as I quickly shifted to gather the plates and cutlery, just to do something with my shaky hands, to push the waves of panic aside.
I wore a blanket. I had no clothes. No Money. No job. Nowhere to live.
Holy…holy… holy shit…
Unconsciously, I tapped the edge of a plate with a fork, faster and faster, the tines clinking in a hummingbird rhythm.
Graysen slapped his large hand over mine, stopping the motion. “What’s wrong?”
My gaze snapped to his. The words rushed out of me at a frantic pace. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know where to go. I’ll know no one out there. I don’t even have any money.”
At my panicked outburst, at my obvious fear, he shushed me gently, lacing his fingers through mine. “I’ll drive you wherever you want to go. I’ll get you everything you need.”
“How?” Right now we had nothing. I didn’t even have clothes.
He gave me a look as if to say— You forget who I am.
My smile was watery but grateful. “You’d steal everything I need?” My bottom lip wobbled. “That’s so sweet.”
His laugh was loud and bright. “Isn’t it?” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t worry. Everything will work out.”
As we continued to hold each other’s gazes, something faltered in his. Some deep, pained emotion shot through his gaze so swiftly I couldn’t quite make it out. Perhaps anguish. Maybe, even strangely, remorse. I wasn’t sure because those dark lashes swept down and he closed himself off, shuttering the emotion away. When he next looked at me, he smiled softly and I smiled back.
Untangling our fingers, I rose and cleared the table of our dishes.
I didn’t want to leave him. I didn’t want to leave my family. But, for a little while, I needed to be free. Later, I’d work out a way to contact my family, and Graysen too.
Placing the dishes in the sink, I said, “It won’t be forever.” I refused to believe this separation would be for long. And that made everything a bit easier to bear.
Padding back to the table, I picked up the sticky jar of honey, stilling to lick the beads of sweetness off my forefinger and his gaze sharpened on the movement. He intently watched me with the focus of a wild animal. Molten desire flared in his eyes. I loved it. Loved teasing him. Lazily licking my finger once more, I innocently asked, “Whatever shall we do now?”
A low growl was my only warning .
Graysen moved so fast I didn’t even see him surging from his chair. I yelped in surprise when I suddenly found myself whipped around and lying flat on the wobbly table. His mouth captured my finger, tongue curling. “ H-holy Sk-skalki, Crowther! ”
He sucked the honey from my fingertip in a sensual move that turned my bones to liquid. My moan was husky as heat flared inside my core while his hunger for me was a hard, long length pressed against my thigh.
Releasing my finger, he nipped and kissed his way along my jawline.
“Didn’t you mention, earlier, what you wanted to do on this silly, rickety table?” I asked, breathing unevenly and wriggling beneath him, seeking friction.
His teeth scraped down my neck to my collarbone, and the words vibrated against my flushed skin. “As much as you’d like to have your way with me, I have other plans, lovely, wicked Wychthorn.”
Straightening, he backed off, blinking rapidly as he puffed out a breath and dragged a hand through his hair, mentally shaking off the lust.
I pouted to lose that hard, sculptured body on mine.
“Besides, the morning isn’t over yet,” he said, reminding me of our agreement. Scooping me up, he slung me over his shoulder. My hair fell in a pale sheet as I dangled upside down with my favorite view ever. I dropped the jar of honey, and it clattered on the wooden floor, rolling under the couch with its bright rugs and pillows. “Gods, I love your ass.” I squeezed it. Maybe a little too firmly, but it was too hard to resist.
“Holy fuck,” he barked, jolting, then laughed.
Fresh air greeted me as he strode outside and down the porch. Flipping me over into his arms, he sank into the swing chair and settled me to lie down with my head resting on his lap. He stretched his long legs out and rested the heels of his feet against the wooden planks to push the chair in lazy arcs—the rusty metal chinking and squeaking—and for a while, we watched one another. He twirled a lock of my hair around a finger and gently tugged. “Sing for me, little bird. I want to hear everything you love.”
As the sun rose higher and birds soared above the lake and flew over the raft bobbing in the distance, we talked—well, mostly me, while he listened to my tales of growing up on my estate. But I teased a few things out of him—his enthusiasm for board games, where each week his siblings would gather to play a game, anything from Backgammon to Battleship to Clue, which had me laughing and shaking my head in surprise. And he shared all the different kinds of smiles and laughter he possessed that perhaps no one besides his family ever saw or heard .
Maybe it was the warmth of the day and the rhythmic lull of the waves gently lapping the shore, but I found myself lethargic, and my mind becoming fuzzy. I disappeared somewhere else. It almost felt like a waking dream, one that gilded reality with a shimmer that sparkled with effervescence.
Everything seemed golden. Graysen, too, seemed as if he had been sprinkled with a fine layer of gold that glittered on his skin. I reached up and ran my forefinger down the length of this straight, arrogant nose, marveling at his striking beauty. I brushed the pad of my thumb across his lips. “You’re beautiful.”
He flashed a smile, his rich chuckle enticing me to grin back at him. It slowly died as his gaze turned a little more somber as he followed the path his calloused finger made, gently tracing the curve below my eyebrow. “You’re beautiful…stupidly beautiful.”
That struck me as funny and I laughed and it echoed strangely in my ears, the sound of it looping, each note layering over the top of one another.
I felt his nose nudge the curly locks of my hair aside and, when his breath caressed the shell of my ear, my spine bowed and my lips parted on a soft exhale. He whispered something to me in an open and honest tone that had my lashes fluttering as my eyes widened, and the shock of it stuttered my heart. Sunshine, pure joyous sunshine, bloomed in my chest and flooded every inch of my body. His mouth hunted mine, capturing it in a kiss that was languid and deep and thorough.
And like a honey-coated dream, it slipped away…the words, what he’d told me…and my mind floated elsewhere like one of the leaves dusting the lake’s undulating surface.
The world blurred into a palette of rich greens and blues. Everything glistened with gold. Buttery sunlight reflected off the water’s azure waves and golden motes danced in the air.
Suddenly, I was weightless—
He’d picked me up, an arm beneath my back, the other underneath my knees. “I got you, little bird,” he said, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead.
Snapshots of reality broke through the golden, dreamlike haze and I caught glimpses as if time had marched on—
He was fully dressed once more in his armor and knelt on the bed, supporting me while tugging a long, baggy t-shirt over my head. A musty smell from the soft white shirt reached me and I drowsily wondered if he had found it in the drawer.
Carrying me down the worn, sagging porch steps.
A car door opening .
The click of a safety belt.
“Where…are we…going?” I managed to ask.
He didn’t answer, but after reversing the car, shifting gears as we glided forward and away from the cottage, he threaded his fingers through mine and held tight. My head fell against the headrest, lolling, relaxing at the purr of the engine, and I slipped into a waking dream full of sunshine.