Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
We’re up with the sun the next morning and heading out within the hour.
I half-expected to spend the night tossing and turning, whether from the discomfort of sleeping on the forest floor or my anxious thoughts surrounding all of the new developments, but that wasn’t the case.
The trek from Bastian’s cottage to here must have exhausted me more than I thought because I was out within moments of my head meeting the bedroll.
I also didn’t have a nightmare which is another small blessing.
It meant that I rose for the day in a much better mood than I would usually have for the early hour.
I am most certainly not a morning person, but that’s been especially true while the nightmares have been plaguing my dreams.
Despite the chill of the night, it was surprisingly warm.
I suspect that was largely in part to Bastian’s magic which kept our campfire a steady presence throughout the night.
As was his proximity to my bedroll. It was still where he’d moved it before dinner.
We were practically touching. In fact, I had this nearly overwhelming urge to extend my hand out in his direction.
It took every ounce of strength I had not to cave to the desire.
I woke only moments before him to find his arm removed from the warmth of his blankets and outstretched in my direction.
Almost as if he was unable to fend off the same urges.
The thought alone flusters me all over again, even hours later.
I don’t know what to think about it. I mean, he definitely wasn’t reaching out for me.
Just stretching out in a too small bedroll for his large frame.
But yesterday he was so gentle with me. I was slowly–or not so slowly–unraveling and he somehow stepped in and knew exactly what to say to walk me away from that edge before I took the plunge. Something is starting to shift in me.
Is this respect I’m beginning to feel for him?
Am I starting to trust him?
Other scary questions whip through my head that I’m terrified to look at for too long, so I push them aside.
We’ve been walking all day again. The terrain barely changes as we grow closer to our destination.
I’m beginning to find that Unseelie lands are just really dull and monotonous.
The creepy barren trees, the muted gray-green grass that’s so dry it seems almost dead, the dirt road we’re following. Like I said, dull and monotonous.
It’s as we approach the first town in the past two days that things start to look different, and not in a good way.
“Welcome to Grimhallow,” Bastian announces dryly as we approach the front gates.
The town is surrounded by a large stone wall. I have yet to determine if it’s meant to keep things in or out. The wall is only broken up by a large wrought iron gate. It’s wide open, allowing access to the town, but manned by two guards that I can see at a quick glance.
I tilt my head down and tug the hood of the cloak lower over my face.
Bastian stopped us an hour from the village for us both to don these cloaks and provided instruction to keep our faces hidden from those in town until we’re safely to the tavern.
That moment only seemed to spike my nerves.
Why do we need the cloaks? Who are we hiding from?
Is it only me we’re trying to sneak through, or him as well?
I would’ve asked him all these thoughts but he seemed just as on edge, so I bit my tongue.
My heart is beating wild like a bird in a cage as we step up to the threshold of the gates.
As if he can tell, Bastian’s hand snags mine and intertwines our fingers.
The touch alone helps to calm the frantic muscle in my chest. It’s soothed further as his thumb sweeps soothing circles on the back of my hand.
With my head down like this, it’s hard to take in everything of the town, but if the road at my feet is anything to go on, it’s a bit ramshackle.
The dirt path we followed turns into stone, but it can barely be called a path.
The stones are so widely spaced with chips and cracks in almost every single one.
Every building that I can see is made of deep gray stones.
In fact, everything here is gray or black.
“They love a good monochromatic color scheme, huh?” I whisper to Bastian as we pass through the gate with no issue.
He lets out a soft chuckle and squeezes my hand but doesn’t respond otherwise.
A chill passes through my body despite the warmth of Bastian’s touch and the closeness of his body. The more I look at it, the more I get this spooky feeling.
“Ghosts aren’t real, right?” I ask, nervously.
He snorts another laugh, but once again doesn’t reply.
Is that supposed to be a no? A yes? Dear gods, I’m hoping it’s not a yes.
Bastian continues to tug me with him as we pass various shops and houses, halting before what must be the tavern.
I lift my eyes to the sign swinging above the door.
T E DIR G ORY
“Te Dir Gory? What’s that mean? Is it Fae language?”
He looks at me with a smirk. “No, it’s the common language. But the sign could use a little bit of refurbishment. It’s The Dire Glory.”
“Oh, that’s certainly a reassuring name for a place to stay.”
“It’s not so bad,” he says before tugging me behind him into the tavern.
And it looks exactly like the establishments I’m used to in the human realm.
The only difference is the clientele.
The stone facade from outside carries on inside bringing a cold vibe to the place, but the wooden tables and thick furs scattered around the dining room make it feel cozier.
And the hearth in the back corner quite literally warms up the place.
Stale ale lingers in the air, but underneath that is the scent of hearty meats and stewed root vegetables that fills me with a feeling of home and comfort. My tense body begins to relax.
There’s a bar a few steps from the entrance where several Fae are leaning up against and sipping from their tankards.
Bastian pulls us in that direction and flags down the barkeep.
She takes one look at him and instantly straightens, rushing over.
The patrons further down the bar side eye the two of us.
I hear the shuffle of feet as a few of them slide further away from where we stand.
My brows furrow in confusion. I sneak a peek at Bastian, still wearing his lifted hood.
I suppose he does look a bit intimidating like this.
“Sebastian, how nice to see you. I didn’t know we were expecting you again so soon,” she rambles on nervously. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Tall, lithe, long raven hair, deep navy-blue eyes that seem to sparkle.
“You weren’t expecting me,” he says cooly. “Have you got some space for the night, Helena?”
“Oh, yes of course! Anything for you,” she says warmly with a bright smile.
I can’t explain it but her reaction rankles me and sets me on edge.
She seems very familiar with Bastian, and I don’t like it.
She finally notices me standing beside him and her eyes flick between us, lifting a brow with a slight smirk.
Her question is immediately clear, even if she hadn’t said it out loud. “One room or two?”
“Two, please,” Bastian answers quickly.
Her smile widens which makes me clench my jaw so tight I can feel my teeth grinding.
“Give me a minute and I’ll fetch the keys,” she says, heading into a back room behind the bar.
A squeeze of my hand draws my scathing glare away from the door Helena went through and instead to Bastian’s feline grin.
“What?” I grind out.
“Maybe it’s a good thing we haven’t been able to manifest your abilities yet,” he says still smiling.
“And why’s that?”
His eyes sparkle with amusement. “Poor Helena would be on the floor in ashes.”
I narrow my eyes at him in a glare before turning my attention back towards the bar. I hear him chuckle beside me which only stokes my anger further.
The heat of his body warms me as he leans in close to my ear. “Jealousy is a good look on you, staellara,” he whispers.
“I am not jealous,” I say between gritted teeth.
He hums in a sarcastic agreement that comes off as more of a sure you’re not.
Before I can snap back at him, Helena returns with two keys. She quickly rattles off instructions to Bastian that my anger won’t let me focus on. I only catch the tail end of their conversation.
“I’ll send some food up to your rooms,” Helena offers with a soft smile as she hands over the keys, her hand lingering in his for a second longer than is normal of a barkeep and customer relationship.
Bastian returns her smile. “Much appreciated, Helena,” he says in thanks.
Are they really going to flirt right in front of me? Get a fucking room first!
I fist my free hand at my side and take a deep inhale, trying to soothe the overwhelming anger rising up.
Bastian pulls me behind him as he makes his way towards the stairs that are tucked away in the back corner. We climb up two flights before he brings us to the very end of the hall.
“Here’s your key, your room is this one here,” he says, gesturing to the door behind me.
“Mine is this one across the hall.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder indicating the door behind him, which is indeed right across the hall from mine.
“Food should be up in a few minutes. I’ll come grab you when it’s delivered to my room.
Other than that, I’ll leave you to bathe and get some sleep. ”
“Okay,” I say, trying to pull my hand from his to retreat into my room to stew in my anger alone, but he doesn’t release my hand.
“Lock the door once you get inside and don’t open it for anyone but me, okay?” His expression is stern.
I roll my eyes. “Do I have to open it for you?”
His eyes narrow with a glare. “Yes.”
“Ugh, fine.” I jerk on my hand and this time he lets me go.