CHAPTER FORTY
ALYSSUM
Consciousness came slowly, an errant birdsong beckoning the threads of my mind from a deep, dreamless slumber.
Even with the persistent chirping, I barely stirred.
I lay cocooned in the most comfortably warm, plush bed I’d ever had the privilege of experiencing.
I couldn’t open my eyes—not yet. I knew the day’s worries were near, yawning and stretching themselves awake, preparing to slither into the peace that had enveloped me all night.
I floated there for a while, in that state of near-consciousness, willing myself to remain for even one moment longer.
Time was slower here. It hurt less. Did I really have to leave?
But a rustling at my side, and the subsequent shifting of the bed, tipped the scale in the day’s favor.
I felt the wave of it all wash over me—the kidnapping, riding a monstrous horse, being dragged through the town square, and Sera’s provocation.
It wasn’t until Vayen’s eyes popped into my mind, with their smoky silvers and too-bright greens, that the despair became a bit… murkier.
The bed’s weight dipped beneath me as she edged herself carefully from the mattress, and the realization landed right in the pit of my stomach.
We had slept together.
Well, not slept slept together; I wasn’t naked, and I had a vague memory that suggested she wasn’t, either.
But it wasn’t until I blinked my eyes open—only to receive an eyeful of Vayen’s strong legs—that last night came swinging into view, its image sharp.
Not quite as sharp as what I saw now, like the way her linen shorts struggled against the curves of her backside.
Stars above, I could all but see the strength rippling beneath her light brown skin.
The muscles were visible, but not bulky like Berig’s.
An understated power existed in that body, overly capable and decidedly feminine all at the same time.
I drew my sleep-filled eyes up her slender spine, a gentle indent in the middle of a sculpted back, all the way up to her bindings.
The beige cloth clung to her, wrapped several times over her breast.
It was a bit of cloth. It had no right looking so damn appealing.
As if she could feel my eyes on her, Vayen shifted once she stood, tilting her head to cast a glance my way. There was hesitation in the dip of her brow, but it was gone before I found my voice.
“It’s time to go,” she said sharply.
Just like that, the moment crumbled under the weight of itself.
There would be no awkward morning where we stumbled around the implications of the night before.
There would be no extended breakfast where we professed our attraction for one another and debated whether or not we should test that attraction and see where it might lead.
Least of all would there be a heated display of intimacy, a stolen moment despite how impossible and improbable it all seemed, if only to solidify the unspoken truth that hovered between us.
None of that could exist, because the raw skin of my wrists chafed against the bed linen, and I knew exactly what sort of morning awaited me.
I pushed my upper half from the bed, covers falling from my shoulder as I sat.
I watched as Vayen wrenched fitted trousers up her thighs, the leather ties snapping when she laced them.
She paid me no mind as she forced the vest back over her head and tightened the buckles on either side.
My chest grew heavier, and my breathing uncomfortably shallow when she began to pack her bedroll.
This was it. We were going to cross and I’d been unable to escape. I hadn’t even attempted to free myself last night, succumbing so quickly to strong drink and comfortable linens.
I swallowed the pain in my throat from disallowed tears. I would not beg. I would not cry. I would instead spend the next hour, or two, or however long I had left, searching for even the smallest opportunity to avoid the Threshold and retain my memories.
I climbed from the bed gingerly, numbness blanketing my skin as Vicar’s empty eyes flashed through my mind.
He hadn’t even remembered his own name. But maybe a Vessel didn’t need a memory.
It wasn’t as if I’d been an accomplished Sentinel, and Vayen risked wiping decades of prowess that might benefit someone in the Moonlight Trials; I was practically useless, so why would she care to avoid the risk?
What motivation did she have to find another way, when it would only cost her precious time?
I forced an exhale through tight lips, hoping not to draw Vayen’s attention as I tumbled through my own mind, frightened and unmoored. She tossed the pants she’d gotten me the day before on the bed, but I ignored them. I didn’t want to accept any of her kindnesses ever again.
Before I knew it, my dress was on, my bucket boots were firmly on my feet, and I’d drawn my hair into a single braid draped over my shoulder.
I had no concept of time as I floated through the motions.
But when a familiar sound echoed through our room, it was fear that snapped me back into myself.
Followed quickly by something more bitter.
“Hold out your wrists,” Vayen said. She didn’t hide the fresh rope doused in glyphs, or mince her words. I could have given her credit for that, if I wasn’t infuriated by the way my traitorous body had called for her the night before.
I pressed my lips together, barely containing the snide expression that pulled at my face.
“Is that absolutely necess—”
She didn’t even allow me to finish my sentence. Vayen approached too quickly, and I stumbled backwards, my back slamming against the far tree trunk wall. The force of it sent my breath from my chest, but she didn’t hesitate.
Vayen grabbed my wrists, and I yelped in reply, the still-red skin searing beneath her iron grip as she expertly looped and tied and pulled until tears pooled in my eyes.
I tried to jerk away from her, my entire body writhing wildly, but my effort barely required Vayen to adjust her footing.
When she finally finished, she stepped back with her palms up and chin dropped: she was done.
But I wasn’t. I rushed forward, slamming my bound wrists into her chest with all of my might.
Vayen didn’t stop me. Instead, we careened backwards, and it was her back that hit the door at full force. She seized my forearms, pinning them to her. I couldn’t have hit her again if I tried.
“Damn you,” I seethed right into her blank face. “Damn you to the depths for making me think, for one single second, that you might…”
I could feel my eyebrows pulling together, and the tears that threatened to loose over my warm cheeks.
It was all I had left not to break down in that moment.
But I knew it would only be exhausting, leaving me even more drained than I’d been the days prior.
If there was any hope at all, I had to be ready.
And screaming at Vayen, and hitting Vayen, and hurting Vayen…
as much as I wanted to be consumed by my fury, I would lose myself in the process.
And I needed to be very, very present. If only because it might be the last time I ever could be.
With an enraged, defeated sigh, and a swallow that felt very close to ripping my aching throat in half, I pulled away from her. Praise the stars, she let me.
“Alyssum, if there were any other—”
“Don’t,” I interrupted, my words sharper than all the blades in Morwyn. “Don’t you dare try to ease your burden by increasing mine.”
With that, she was silenced.
I hated it when I sniffled, the sound stifled and pitiful, but it was preferable to leaking all over my face.
Pathetic. A warm bath, a hot meal, and an indoor bed had been at the center of my focus only yesterday, but now they seemed so trivial.
Perhaps worse than trivial. What if it had been nothing more than a trick?
The comfortable lodgings, the delicious supper.
What if Vayen had communicated with Haize before our arrival, warning him of all that was to come and orchestrating the evening to lull me into complacency?
I wouldn’t put it past her.
With perfect posture and a lifted chin, I grabbed Vayen’s jacket from where it draped over the chair.
I began maneuvering awkwardly to pull it over my shoulders, and when she reached out in an attempt to assist me, I jerked away.
It was rage-fueled and dramatic, but when a flash of something vulnerable crumpled her features, I felt nothing but satisfaction.
If my rejection hurt her, then good.
Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
I have to find a way out of this.
I had thought that, if the stars were on my side, a distraction would present itself.
When Vayen led me through the common area with her hand ghosting my back, I’d prayed Sera would burst into the tavern, demanding answers.
Or a fire might start in the kitchen, followed by Haize’s desperate wails for assistance, summoning Vayen into action and allowing me to slip out the door.
Instead, we passed through without incident, the scars on my back itching the way they did whenever I was being disobedient, or reckless.
She had no right to have her hand there, hovering just above the permanent reminder that not only does love have its limits, but if people want to, they will harm you.
My father had no qualms about making that known.
Neither did Vayen, it would seem. Maybe they were more alike than I’d originally thought.
Keep your eyes open. Stay focused.