39. Chapter 39
39
Chapter 39
Bronwen
I left earlier than usual, the snow crunching beneath my boots with each step. The cold air stung my cheeks, but I welcomed it. I needed distance from the house before August found me. Adar had caught me off guard yesterday, and I hadn’t given myself the chance to process the fact that he and August had met. He hadn’t seemed suspicious at the time, but the weight of his questions in my room had left me uneasy. I didn’t want him to see August again. Not right now. At least not until things settled down.
Even if it meant the nightmares would start again.
Once I felt far enough from the house, I lowered my hood, letting the crisp air bite at my skin. I took a different path today, veering away from my usual route to keep as far from Lowen’s grave as possible.
The silence stretched, pressing against me in a way that made my skin prickle. The wind whispered through the trees, rustling the brittle branches overhead. My fingers twitched at my sides, curling slightly into my cloak. Where was he? We hadn’t agreed to meet, and maybe I shouldn’t have assumed he would come. A flicker of embarrassment warmed my face.
“Winnie, what are you doing?”
Relief flooded me as I turned, my breath easing—but it was short-lived. The moment I saw his face, the tension snapped back into my chest. His expression was tight, but there was something dark lingering in his gaze.
“I told you I didn’t want you to be alone,” he said.
A flicker of irritation rose in me, cutting through the cold. I squared my shoulders, meeting his stare. “I am fine. I can handle myself.”
He shook his head, stepping forward, his voice quieter now. “Not with him .”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words faltered on my tongue. His jaw was set, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. There was no amusement in his eyes, no teasing lilt in his voice. Just quiet, steady concern. My frustration wavered, replaced with something I didn’t want to name.
My voice softened, but the weight behind my words remained. “I just wanted to tell you that we need to stay apart for a little while.” My fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to reach for him.
August’s eyes darkened slightly. “What?”
“Adar is suspicious.” I flicked my gaze toward the trees for a brief moment before settling back on him, as if expecting someone to be listening.
His brow furrowed. “He didn’t seem suspicious yesterday.”
“Not of you. Of me.” I exhaled through my nose, a slow, measured breath. “He thinks I did everything that has happened lately. ”
August’s lips curled into something, not quite a smirk but not far from it either—like the accusation amused him, even if it was dangerous.
“I didn’t realize how sharp your brother was.” There was something almost thoughtful in his tone, as if he were reassessing Adar entirely.
I shook my head, exhaling sharply. “That isn’t the point. I am just going to stay home until Market in hopes his suspicions will die down.”
August studied me for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay.” But it was too easy—too simple. My chest tightened as I searched his face, waiting for the argument, the teasing remark, the challenge I had expected. None came. Instead, he just stood there.
It should have been a relief, but instead, unease curled in my stomach. August never let things go this easily.
“That’s it?” I asked, my voice quieter now.
He tilted his head slightly. “You expected me to fight you on it?”
I hesitated, pressing my lips together. “A little.”
A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I always find a way back to you, Winnie. Whether it’s tomorrow or next week, we both know this isn’t the end.”
My breath hitched at his words, but before I could react, he stepped forward, his hands brushing the edges of my cloak before settling against my arms. He pressed a lingering kiss to my forehead, his touch warm against the cold, grounding me even as my thoughts raced. His breath fanned against my skin, and for a fleeting moment, I let myself close my eyes, let myself forget everything else but this .
By the time I returned home, the scent of herbs and simmering broth filled the house, the warmth wrapping around me like a blanket as I stepped inside. The kitchen was alive with movement—Mama stood near the stove, stirring something in a pot, while Adar sat at the table, peeling an apple with slow, deliberate motions. His knife glided smoothly, peeling the apple in a single, perfect spiral. His gaze flicked to me as I entered, lingering a second too long. He didn’t speak, but something about the way he watched me sent a prickle of unease down my spine—like he was waiting for me to say something first.
“You’re back just in time,” Mama said without turning. “Lunch is almost ready.”
I slipped off my cloak, hanging it by the door. “What are you making?”
“Stew,” she replied. “The two of you will need something hearty for the next few days.”
I frowned, glancing between them. “Why?”
Mama wiped her hands on her apron before finally facing me. “Your father and I are leaving for a few days. We need to travel south before the roads get worse to pick up extra grain and supplies for the winter.”
Adar sighed, setting the apple down. “You couldn’t have sent someone else?”
“We could have,” Mama said, giving him a pointed look. “But we didn’t.”
I crossed my arms. “How long will you be gone?”
“Three, maybe four days. We’re leaving tonight.”
Something uneasy settled in my chest, twisting tighter the more I thought about it. Traveling at night this late into the season was dangerous enough—but not just because of the cold or the roads. The woods were darker in winter, the shadows stretched longer, and I knew too well what lurked beyond them.
“You’re traveling at night?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, my fingers curling against my arms.
Mama turned, her expression calm but firm. “You forget who your father is,” she said with a knowing smile. “We’ve done this before, and we’ll do it again. He’s more than capable of handling anything that comes our way.”
I glanced at Adar. He leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly against the wood—not in boredom, but in thought. His eyes remained on me, calculating, assessing, as if he were trying to piece something together that I couldn’t see.
“Everything will be fine while we’re gone,” Mama assured us, as if sensing my hesitation. “Just keep the house warm and don’t get into trouble.”
Adar smirked. “That depends on her.”
I shot him a glare, but Mama ignored us, turning back to the stove. “I expect you both to be alive when we return. That’s all I ask.”
Her words were light, but the weight behind them lingered. I swallowed hard, trying to shake the nagging feeling that things wouldn’t be that simple.
“What about Market?” I asked, forcing my voice steady, hoping the shift in conversation would quiet the unease curling in my stomach. Market was in a few days, and three to four days meant they wouldn’t be back.
Mama stirred the pot before glancing over her shoulder. “I would say we could skip this one, but it could be the last one before the snow prevents us from going, and I want to make sure everyone has gotten what they needed.”
She was always thinking of others.
She wiped her hands on her apron before turning fully to face us. “Can the two of you handle the booth on your own?”
Adar scoffed. “We’ll be fine.”
I nodded, though my mind was still caught on the thought of them traveling at night. “We’ll manage.”
Mama gave a satisfied nod. “Good. Just don’t let your bickering scare off the customers.”
I watched as she turned back to the pot, humming softly as she stirred, as if she hadn’t just told us she’d be gone for days. As if everything was fine. The steady scrape of the wooden spoon against the pot filled the silence, comforting in its familiarity. But something in my chest remained tight, restless.
Adar said nothing, only continued peeling his apple, his knife gliding smoothly through the fruit. He wasn’t worried. Mama wasn’t worried. Maybe I was overthinking it.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that when they left, something would change. And I wasn’t sure I was ready for it.