CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
VAYEN
The rigidity that overcame my body was necessary, I reminded myself. My legs locked on Rummy’s sides, quite used to the comparative width of him by now. One hand held the lead, though I didn’t need it, and the other encircled Alyssum so that she remained upright while unconscious.
So that she remained upright.
Yes, that was the reason her cool forehead pressed against the crook of my neck, very nearly searing the skin there.
That was the reason her pale hand fisted the front of my shirt, those lithe fingers tensing and relaxing as though, even in sleep, they had a will of their own.
That was the reason my abdomen tightened with the effort of slow, controlled inhalations—anything to distance myself from the competing aromas of the winter jasmine and moonlight perfuming her hair.
Naeno, strike me down. Did I just compare the scent of her to moonlight?
If I hadn’t been in complete control of every single muscle in my body, I’d have rolled my eyes at my own self.
Winnie would have pelted me. Berig would have perished from laughing to death.
And Milo… his entire face would have screwed up in disgust, the way it did whenever affection or love were referenced in his presence.
Not that this had anything to do with affection or love, I reminded myself. She smelled good. She smelled… more than good. I’d nearly been knocked over by the realities of her scent in Lunamor, easily detectable beneath that mountain of bread. At the time, I’d thought it meant—
But it didn’t. It couldn’t. Regardless if Winnie thought I was burying my head in Cleovian sand, I wouldn’t be able to go through with any of this if she were…
And I had to go through with it. At least certainty existed there.
Winnie may not have agreed. Berig certainly wouldn’t, if he were conscious. I imagined Milo would be the most upset and disagreeable of them all.
It was cowardly of me to disappear without saying goodbye to him…
to leave the task of that painful conversation to Catrin…
but even I had my limitations. And holding Alyssum to my chest where I had no choice but to breathe her in, bringing her nearer and nearer the Threshold where I could not be entirely certain she would survive the journey whole, already pushed me beyond what I felt capable of. I had nothing left to give.
Milo would forgive me, one day. As long as I made it back to him alive.
I couldn’t recall when I’d last been away from them for any meaningful amount of time.
Even leaving Milo in Grenythwood while we traveled to Lunamor…
I had felt fractured without him. But it had been many, many years since I’d traveled without Berig and Winnie.
We fled Grenloch together. We found Catrin first, and Ekko years later, and settled down in the village—not like we’d had much of a choice.
But we’d made a life for ourselves. As much of a life as we were capable of making, given our circumstance.
If Gavner had kept his promise and left us alone, I might not have felt quite as motivated as I did to lift this damnable curse. To free us of the chains that bound us. The chains that, even as I grew more accustomed to, still pinched and cut off circulation if I knew where to focus my attention.
Since Alyssum entered my life, I’d found it more and more difficult to ignore that persistent discomfort.
The hold on my spirit had nearly ruptured when she’d been attacked by that Hollow—I could feel the binds melting against the white-hot fury of my rage.
Beneath it all lay unyielding, primal desire.
A sensation I could only recall from before the Threshold, and one I yearned for in every waking moment.
Even my dreams were consumed by the need to melt into Naeno’s blessing and surrender to the truth she placed within me.
And to receive just the smallest taste of what it used to be like… what I used to be capable of…
Would it ever happen again if I were unsuccessful in breaking the curse? Or would I only ever be whole in my dreams?
Fuck. This had to be what the faceless woman wanted. I couldn’t see another path forward. If there were any other way available to me, I’d have taken it. In a heartbeat, I’d have sacrificed myself if it meant I could keep her out of it.
As though Alyssum were privy to my thoughts, she shifted against me, her hold on my shirt tightening as she mumbled sleepily into the linen. I risked a downward glance at those light features, rather displeased to see the notch forming between her brows. Even in sleep she succumbed to her worries.
I tightened my hold on her waist, refusing the brightness that rose in my chest as she nestled deeper into me, her brow smoothing with the motion and grip loosening ever-so-slightly.
Damn this woman. If I wasn’t very, very careful, she’d be the death of me. As if she hadn’t been already.
I realized then we were no longer moving. Rummy had ceased his trotting—potentially for quite some time now, given the annoyed huff he cast my way. Our eyes locked and I focused my attention there so that I might interpret him.
I hovered in that moment, considering his stance and assessing the atmosphere of the wood. I could not locate the sun through the darkening cloud cover, but I knew she began her descent behind the western hills. It would be night before long, so ultimately, I hummed in agreement.
Alyssum stirred, and I tightened my grip in response. I’d noticed that pressure seemed to steady her, and right I was, for she relaxed into me once more.
I wished I could spend the evening there, holding her to my chest and pretending that having her in my arms and mingling our scents wasn’t a wildly masochistic activity. But I would need sleep to prepare for the journey ahead.
It would be at least another half day’s ride before we reached Cobble Crossing.
I shouldn’t have been surprised that Rummy knew where we’d be resting for the night, but when I laid eyes on the fallen ironbark that served as a trail marker for my people, my eyebrows raised.
I doubt he could have looked less impressed with me in that moment.
Righting his head to the front, Rummy’s hoof stamped at the dirt beneath him.
I dropped the lead and began the process of shifting myself when Alyssum loosed a gentle whine. Her lower lip looked particularly pouty from this position, exacerbated by the way her cheek smooshed against my collarbone.
“Absolutely not,” I muttered to no one in particular as I averted my gaze.
I refused to be manipulated by a sleeping woman’s pout, no matter how biteable that lower lip may or may not have appeared.
I would not be swayed. I would also not be spending the foreseeable future daydreaming of biting, kissing, or any other -ing that didn’t involve shelter and nightfall preparation.
With steeled resolve, I made the decision right then and there to erect a fortress in my mind.
A fortress impenetrable by Alyssum. Her very presence may have been overwhelming, but it was a reality I would need to become comfortable with quite quickly—the lullawort would wear off by morning, and I couldn’t very well keep her unconscious for the entirety of the journey, even if that would simplify my life.
There was little way around it. I was going to have to toughen up if I planned to survive the journey with my sanity intact. I could not allow the errant beating of my heart to impact the decisions that I—
But then her fist tightened and her lips brushed against my skin when she turned her face into me, undoubtedly seeking reprieve from the chilly breeze that tousled her hair, and I was falling apart again.
Fucking depths.
At the very least, I really, really had to stop flirting with her. It wasn’t fair to either one of us. I couldn’t determine the exact moment my mouth ceased to be in line with my mind, but I doubted Alyssum’s glacial eyes and the trusting, captivated way she set them on me had little to do with it.
I would just have to cease speaking unless absolutely necessary. I was capable of that, wasn’t I?
The sharp snort—very nearly a scoff—that Rummy emitted was accompanied by the slightest head shake.
“Do you doubt me that much?” I asked through my offense.
He turned his head to the side once more to observe me with one black eye, ears flicking back. That expression was unmistakable: Rummy absolutely doubted me, and not one single person who knew me would blame him.
Even as I readied the camp for our first night sleeping beneath the stars, I was perfectly attuned with each and every breath she emitted.
Against my will, her essence was carving itself into my heart, just the way my father had described it.
The forbidden word hovered in my consciousness, taunting me.
If Alyssum were a normal girl, and not the Vessel I believed her to be, it still wouldn’t have mattered. I was a Videa, after all.
Love was not for me, and it never would be.