Chapter 13
Evan
Waking up in Gregory’s bed, still warm from the heat he left behind, did nothing to lessen my hangover. The wine had gone down too quickly. Maybe the craziness of my new life made anything that dulled it seem like a blessing. After my third cup, I lost count. The rest of the night was a blur.
A dizzying throb filled my skull, reminding me of every bad choice I’d made, starting with that trip to the latrine. I’d expected a toilet, or at the very least, a simple porcelain bowl. What I found was a glorified hole in the ground.
The bath came back to me in fragments—Gregory hauling in water for the big tub and holding his hand over it until the air shimmered with heat.
I remembered languishing in the water, melting into a state of boneless relaxation, but I didn’t remember getting out.
I must have fallen asleep because I had woken up in the middle of the night, tucked into bed, dry, and wearing one of his oversized shirts.
But I wasn’t alone.
Warmth and the weight of another body had enveloped me. Gregory molded against my back like a human furnace, his arm draped around my waist, fingers splayed over my stomach.
Part of me had thought I should be embarrassed, or worse, feel guilty about waking up next to someone who was almost a stranger, someone who had nearly killed me not long ago, someone whose loved one’s face I had stolen.
But I didn’t panic. For once, I’d let my guard down and trusted someone else to handle things.
Not a single muscle moved as I’d relished the stolen moment—Gregory’s breathing warming my neck, his unyielding presence pressing close. Somehow, his scent was comforting, not threatening. I must have drifted off again, nestled in his protective heat.
The next time I’d stirred, the warmth was only residual.
Sunlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the clothes Gregory had laid out on the dining chair. The same brown trousers and beige blouse from when I’d first arrived in this world.
I pushed myself out of bed, the oversized shirt I’d slept in hanging past my knees.
Gregory was only a few feet away in the kitchen area with his back to me, setting out bread and a jar of honey on the small table.
I pulled the shirt over my head and tossed it onto the bed without a second thought, as if stripping down with a near stranger right there was the most natural thing in the world.
The morning air prickled against my naked skin, and my attention drifted down to the body I was still learning to live in.
It was so much smaller than the one I remembered.
Narrow shoulders, lean arms, wrists that could snap under pressure.
Freckles dusted every inch of skin I could see, scattered across my chest and stomach like someone had flicked a paintbrush, and not a single hair grew below my collarbones.
I ran my fingers down the center of my abdomen, tracing a slow path over smooth, soft skin where there was no definition and no hard ridges of muscle.
Just below my navel, a strange fullness sat low in my belly, a slight roundness that didn’t match anything I’d ever known about my own anatomy.
I laid my palm flat against it, and a pull stirred deep inside me, nameless and unsettling. I dropped my hand.
The briefs I’d been given barely qualified as clothing. The fabric was so thin it bordered on translucent, clinging to everything and concealing nothing.
I reached for the trousers, and when my eyes lifted, Gregory had turned around. He stood right there, close enough that I could see the taut cords of his neck and his hand still resting on the edge of the table. His eyes were on me. All of me.
I held my ground. A reckless, unfamiliar boldness kept my chin up and my gaze pinned to his, and the few feet between us shrank to nothing. His jaw tightened, and his stare dropped, just once, sweeping down my body before he caught himself and fixed his attention on the far corner of the room.
I stepped into the trousers and pulled them up, but the complicated laces could send anyone from the twenty-first century into a coma.
Gregory approached and took the cords from my fumbling hands. “Let me.”
As he leaned in, my gaze snagged on the details of his clothes, a vest of deep blue clasped shut with three wide leather straps and brass buckles that glinted in the morning sun.
“Cross over first, then loop under.” He knelt, his breath brushing softly against my stomach. “We’re going to look for the crystal. It should be at the lake.”
The mention of the lake should have registered. It should have triggered a memory, a fear, anything. But the words dissolved into the space between us, lost to the overwhelming intoxication of him.
I reached out without thinking and grazed the dark strands at his temple.
Velvety. That was the only word for it. I leaned in, sliding my fingers back through his hair until my hand curled around the nape of his neck.
I drew him closer until I could press my nose against his cheek. I inhaled deeply.
The scent I was searching for was right there on his warm skin. A rich and addictive spice that clung to him and buried itself in my lungs. It was a hook in my chest that made me weak in the knees.
My brain caught up with my body. “Shit.”
I jumped back, stumbling slightly to put distance between us as heat scorched my face. “Yeah, okay. I can manage the shirt and the boots, at least.”
Gregory stood and stepped back, but his eyes stayed on me as I slipped the blouse over my head. He tracked each movement, perhaps trying to recall how this version of me differed from the Evan he once knew.
I finger-combed my long copper strands and tied them back with a ribbon I’d found in the cabin.
Gregory’s warm, woodsy scent was everywhere.
The stale, hidden echo from the day before was gone, replaced by a lingering fresh fragrance.
When had I become obsessed with how he smelled?
The question followed me through the quick, quiet breakfast of bread and honey, and haunted me even now as we rode the monstrous horse he called Thunder.
Perched in front of Gregory, I squinted against the sun.
My inner thighs ached from the strain of the saddle, and I wasn’t even doing any of the work.
His arm was the only thing keeping me from falling off, hooked firmly around my waist, the web of leather straps from his forearm guards pressing into me.
This position hadn’t been my choice, nor did I have much say in it.
But it wasn’t the horse’s rocking or the endless trees that got to me.
It was my own reaction, the strange comfort of his chest against my back.
His new calmness was too easy to fall into.
The sheer lack of a fight in me was more terrifying than any magic I’d seen.
I cleared my throat, feeling a rough rasp as I spoke. “Hey. Are we there yet?”
Silence. In the brief time I’d known him, I’d learned Gregory didn’t talk much, or maybe he just liked to annoy me.
I twisted in the saddle, forcing my stiff spine to turn until I could see the shadow of his face. I reached up and patted his jaw, feeling the scrape of stubble against my palm. “I’m talking to you, mountain man.”
Gregory leaned down in response, his chest compressing against my back as he brought his head level with mine. A current of warm air ghosted my ear. “What was that?”
A tremor ran down my spine, but a more shocking sensation overwhelmed it. The shift in his weight drove the blatant, hard ridge of his arousal right against my lower back.
Heat rushed through me, scorching and immediate. All I could think was that I needed to stop this. Now. My stomach lurched. “I’m about to throw up.”
He adjusted his position, reached for a leather pouch, and pressed a piece of dark, dried meat into my hand. “Chew on this. It’ll help. We’re almost there.”
As if our destination had been summoned by his words, Thunder slowed his pace, navigating a short, steep decline with grace. The dense trees parted to reveal a clearing.
The savory taste in my mouth disappeared, replaced by a wave of dread. I stopped chewing. This was the place—black water, muddy shore, the storm, her purple eyes, her laughter, the snap of my bones. A sudden, hard knot formed in every muscle I now owned.
Gregory’s grip on my waist shifted, his hand sliding from my side to flatten over my stomach. The warmth of his skin contrasted with the cold dread inside me as he rubbed lazy circles.
A violent lurch in my stomach had me shoving his arm away. “I need to get down.”
The jerky slipped from my grasp as I struggled to dismount.
Gregory’s hands found my waist, his touch firm as he set me down.
The instant my feet hit the damp earth, my knees buckled, and I collapsed, heaving onto the muddy terrain.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing him to stay away, but I couldn’t block out the crunch of his boots moving closer.
I waved my hand weakly, brushing loose strands from my face. “Don’t.”
He ignored me, crouched down, and rubbed my back with long, soothing strokes—so effective it was infuriating.
“Here.” Gregory held out a leather waterskin.
I took it, rinsed the vile taste from my throat, and spat into the mud.
He offered me a single, dark green leaf.
I eyed it with suspicion, but I took it and chewed on it.
A minty flavor exploded on my tongue, chasing away the sour bile and bringing a cooling relief to my throat.
He kept his gaze on the lake’s obsidian surface. “We can go. If you don’t want to be here, we can leave.”
The minty leaf worked, easing my nausea. I sat up and wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Why couldn’t I have stayed behind?”
If I hadn’t been so infatuated with the feel of his hair and the weight of his scent back at the cabin, I would have actually heard him when he told me where we were going. I would have said no. I would have fought him until my lungs gave out before agreeing to come back to this place.
Gregory rose to his full height, forcing me to tip my head back to meet his gaze.
“The protective spell won’t hold forever without a caster there to reinforce it.
If she attacks that barrier, it would collapse long before I could get back.
Better she finds an empty house than—” He pressed his lips into a firm line, cutting off the rest.
I crossed my arms over my chest. “You know her, don’t you? The woman with purple eyes?”
Gregory’s gaze skated away, landing somewhere on the dark water surface behind me. He refused to meet my eyes. The concern vanished, leaving only a cold, distant mask that made the hair on my arms stand up. Some instinct screamed at me, a warning I couldn’t explain that settled deep inside.
He nodded toward the muddy shoreline, already taking a few steps away as if the conversation was over. “Let’s go find that crystal.”
“No. I don’t like this.” I lunged forward and grabbed his arm, my hand meeting unyielding muscle and the hard, scraping edge of his leather bracer. “You don’t move from here until you tell me what the hell is going on.”
Gregory let out a loud, frustrated exhale. He dragged a hand over his face, then raked his fingers through his hair, clutching the dark strands so hard I thought he might tear them out.
He dropped his hand and turned to face me.
“I’m sure Mordaine was the woman who attacked you.
She’s a shadow mage. She can be anywhere, and she works as an assassin for the Empire.
” He paused, a pained look flashing across his face so quickly I almost missed it.
“She’s… brutal. More than I could ever be. ”
I frowned as a heavy weight dipped down on my chest. Despite everything, I was starting to trust Gregory.
I didn’t know who he was or why someone wanted him dead, but the thought left me frustrated and aching with sadness.
There was so much I didn’t know, but stopping him from finding the crystal wouldn’t help me uncover anything new.
My fingers slipped off his arm, and I let my hand fall. I gave a reluctant nod, tears threatening to well up behind my eyes. Was it fear? Fear of Mordaine, the Empire, or him? The confusion added to the ache.
I was still trying to untangle the knot in my chest when Gregory moved closer. His arms encircled me, locking me against his firm torso in a hug that was both overwhelming and soothing. He nestled his face in my hair, his lips brushing against the strands. That was when I finally broke down.
Tears ran down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably, clutching him tightly. He held the back of my head, his steady arms the only thing keeping me together as all the strength I’d tried to hold onto crumbled to dust.