Chapter 13
VIVIENNE
The farther we ride from the inn, the quieter the world becomes as the forest thickens around us. Wind whispers through the trees and sunlight filters through the dense canopy overhead.
I sit rigidly in front of Auren, telling myself I’m braced only because Vaelen’s stride is vigorous and uneven. Not because every rustle in the underbrush sends a small spike of awareness through my spine.
Auren’s arm is firm around my waist, making sure I don’t fall off Vaelen’s back as the wolf carefully navigates the rough terrain.
I pretend I’m not comforted by the way Auren’s solid warmth seeps through the thin fabric of my tunic and that I’m not subtly leaning back into him when the path narrows and the shadows alongside us feel much closer than I’d like.
I pretend a great many things.
We stopped a few hours ago to eat a quick meal, but I’m already hungry again and beginning to tire of this seemingly never-ending travel. I’m not sure where we are, but there’s no sign of civilization. “How much further to the inn?”
“There isn’t one.”
“What?” I twist back to look at Auren. “Then where will we sleep tonight?”
“We’ll find a good place to make camp,” he replies matter-of-factly.
“Camp? You cannot be serious. Surely, there’s an inn somewhere nearby.”
“There isn’t one along this stretch of road.”
“Well, then we’ll just have to keep going until we find one,” I say primly. “You cannot possibly expect me to sleep out in the wild, Auren. It’s dangerous.”
A low rumbling laugh escapes him. “It will be fine, my dear wife.”
“I am not your—” I cut myself off before I gift him the satisfaction of reminding me that we are, in fact, wed. “I am not camping.”
“You are,” he says mildly. “Tonight.”
Infuriating male.
Vaelen veers off the road without warning.
I stiffen. “What are you doing?”
“Finding water.”
The way he says it so casually, as if this is something that should be obvious, only irritates me further.
The forest closes in fully now, the air turns damp and cool, and the sounds of the woods grow louder. Dread settles within, but I refuse to show it. If I must endure eating and eventually sleeping out in the open like an Orc or an Ogre, I will do so with composure.
We break into a small clearing beside a narrow river. The water slides over stones in a steady murmur, reflecting the last threads of gold in the sky. The ground is uneven, scattered with roots and fallen leaves.
“This should do,” Auren says, pulling lightly on the reins to bring Vaelen to a halt. “We’ll stop here to rest.”
Auren dismounts first and then carefully lifts me off Vaelen’s back, setting me gently onto the ground. My shoes slip on a patch of moss, but he steadies me with a hand at my elbow.
That single touch sends a traitorous flutter through my chest. He’s always so aware of me and everything I’m doing. I’ve never been the object of such intense focus before. It should unsettle me how closely he watches me, but it doesn’t. Instead, it makes me feel safe and protected.
Sunlight spears through the trees. The air is crisp, scented with pine and damp earth, the distant murmur of the stream behind us.
I watch from where I sit on a fallen log as Auren arranges food on a wooden platter with a level of care that surprises me.
He slices a wedge of sharp cheese, places it beside a few pieces of dried fruit, then carefully folds slices of cured meat before adding them as well.
My stomach does a strange little flip when he hands it to me before he’s even made himself a plate.
Next, he stacks a few branches and kindling, arranging them carefully. When he’s finished, he steps back and with a flick of his wrist sends an arc of blue magic toward the pile, and I watch in wonder as it catches fire.
My mouth drifts open, but I quickly shut it before he can notice.
He then takes a metal pot, dips it into the stream, and sets it over the flames. “What are you boiling water for?”
He looks up at me and flashes his infuriatingly handsome smile. “For your tea.”
I blink. “My tea?”
His mouth lifts at the corner. “Last night, you seemed to enjoy your evening tea, and I thought you might find it comforting.”
A strange warmth curls through my chest that he noticed something so small, but I push it down. “You’re… surprisingly observant.”
“As any good husband should be.” Auren smirks. “Don’t you agree?”
I scowl at him, but he only chuckles.
I turn my attention to the fire. “Why not just heat the water with magic?”
He leans back on his heels, resting his arms on his thighs as he regards me. “I could.”
“But?”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react if I used too much magic.”
My brows knit together. “Why would I care?”
He looks toward the stream, the reflection of flames dancing in the water. “Many humans find magic unsettling.”
“Why?”
His glowing blue eyes meet mine. “Because it makes them wonder what we’re truly capable of.”
I suppose he’s right to be cautious. There are many who are afraid of the Elves and the Fae for exactly this reason. Perhaps it is human nature to fear the unknown and anything different from them. I nod slowly. “That makes sense.”
Auren watches me for another moment before returning his attention to the fire.
I glance at the pot, the water slowly coming to a boil, and arch a teasing brow. “Just so you know, if it makes this trip easier, you’re welcome to use all the magic you want.”
He barks out a laugh. “Noted. But I’d still like to do some things without magic.”
I frown. “Why?”
He tilts his head. “Because I would like for you to learn them.”
“Learn what, exactly?”
“How to start a fire, to set up camp… things like that.”
I bristle, about to tell him such things are beneath me, but he adds, “I know you don’t like the idea of depending on someone else.”
My irritation dissipates immediately.
“So, I figured you’d appreciate the chance to learn these things,” he says, as if he hasn’t just seen straight through me and understood something I never let anyone see.
I press my lips together, studying him now, impressed despite myself at his powers of observation. Even so, I don’t like that he notices more than I intend for him to see. And I definitely don’t like the fact that he’s right.
I push to my feet abruptly, dusting off my tunic. “I’ll be right back.”
Auren frowns. “Where are you going?”
Heat rushes to my face, but I lift my chin to hide my embarrassment. “To relieve myself.”
“Wait.” He gets to his feet. “I’ll go with you.”
I stare at him. “Excuse me?”
“You cannot simply wander off alone, Vivienne.”
“Of course I can,” I counter. “This is one of those things I can do myself.” I cross my arms over my chest. “And I would prefer to do it alone and independently, thank you very much.”
His lips press together in a firm line, clearly realizing his earlier words are coming back to haunt him, but he doesn’t back down. “I know. But we’re on the road, and there could be any number of dangers out here.”
I huff, rolling my eyes. “I highly doubt some bandit is lurking in the bushes, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to ambush a princess relieving herself.”
“I will not compromise on your safety,” he says, voice firm.
Reluctant warmth spreads through me. He truly does care. I hadn’t expected that. Not after the way I’ve treated him thus far on our journey. But I scowl to cover the thought and stalk off toward the trees, Auren trailing a few paces behind.
When I find a semi-respectable place, I turn sharply. “Stay here.”
His mouth twitches. “Wouldn’t dream of disobeying, my lovely wife.”
I glare at him before stepping behind a tree, cursing the gods and my bladder for forcing me to endure such indignity.
When I’m finished, I kneel by the stream to wash my hands, letting the cool water run over my fingers, while Auren stands nearby. A sudden, horrifying thought occurs to me, and my head snaps toward his. “Please, tell me your home has indoor plumbing.”
Auren smirks. “Of course.”
I exhale. “Oh, thank the gods.”
He frowns. “Did you truly think we Elves were so primitive?”
I let my gaze flick over him, slow and deliberate. “Well, you do live underground, don’t you?”
He chuckles and then flashes a gorgeous smile that makes my heart stutter in a way I find entirely inconvenient. “Trust me, Vivienne. My kingdom is neither barbaric nor primitive.”
“We shall see,” I sniff, entirely unimpressed, and he laughs even harder.
When we return to our makeshift camp, he pulls strips of dried meat from his pack and walks over to Vaelen.
The Dire wolf lifts his head from where he’s curled near the fire. Auren strokes his thick fur, offering him a strip, and I don’t miss the way his voice softens when he speaks to the beast.
Auren turns to me, offering another piece. “Do you want to give him one?”
I hesitate. Those massive jaws, those razor-sharp fangs… But I refuse to be a coward.
I hold out the strip. Vaelen’s glowing gold eyes meet mine for a breath before he takes it, then nudges my side with his snout.
“See?” Auren smiles. “I told you he likes you.”
Something warm unfurls in my chest. “Well, I like him too.”
When he’s finished, Auren lifts me onto Vaelen’s back, and we resume our journey.
This time, when my back rests against his chest, and his arms settle around me, it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels… comfortable.
And I’m not sure what to do with that.
The rhythmic sway of Vaelen’s stride lulls me into a strange, unfamiliar state of ease. The Dire wolf moves with effortless grace, his massive paws barely making a sound over the forest floor. It’s ridiculous how safe I feel perched atop a creature that could rip a man in half with a single bite.
Safer still with Auren behind me.
I’m acutely aware of his muscular form pressed against my back, the way his strong body frames mine. It’s… nice, but I will not dwell on that.
I inhale deeply, trying to force my thoughts elsewhere, but Auren’s masculine scent—cedarwood and something uniquely him—fills my senses.
I need a distraction.