Chapter Four #2
“Oh, nothing,” I dismissed, then flicked my stare off to the side. “We should look around the house. See what we can find.”
Era trailed close behind me as we exited the bedroom.
The bookcases lining the walls were the first thing to catch my attention, that and the scent of old paper lingering in the air.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of books filled the shelves, the spines a medley of colors, even in the dim light.
I brushed my fingers over the ones closest to me, just as every oil lamp in the room magically lit up, a soft, golden light filling the space.
“What…” Era whispered, inching closer to me, her wide eyes taking everything in.
“Would’ve been nice if you’d started a fire for us last night!” I called out to whatever being was responsible for turning on the lights. Era slapped my arm, snapping my focus to the front door.
And I choked.
“What the hell?” I rushed over, staring in dumbfounded silence at the three keyholes before me. Upon fumbling with the knob, my fears were confirmed.
We were trapped inside.
“You’re kidding me,” Era said.
“Better here than out there, I suppose,” I muttered, studying the designs. A unique symbol appeared over each keyhole, similar to the one on the outside. Only this time, they were of a pentagram, an Angel wing, and what looked like a spiral of some sort.
Era rushed to the bedroom to fetch the handprint key. When she returned, she tested it in each lock, but it was to no avail. Not a single one clicked in response.
She groaned and then placed the key on the oak side table next to the door. “So, we need to find three more keys to get out of here.”
“Couldn’t we just smash the windows?” I suggested.
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and let in the freezing air and snow?”
“…Good point.” I crossed my arms. “The first key just…appeared. Do we think that’ll happen again?”
Era shrugged as she scanned the house. “Let’s look around. Maybe they’re hidden here.”
This home wasn’t very big. The kitchen was located to the left of the library—separated only by a wall, with the entry large enough that you could see the dining table and the beginnings of the cabinetry from the open space.
Aside from the bedroom with its attached bathroom, that was it.
Era started feeling through the cushions of the dark green sofa, while I rummaged through the kitchen drawers.
Nothing seemed out of the blue—nothing but silverware and spices to be found.
On the wall, beside the stove, a single piece of parchment was pinned. The words “DAYS LOST” were scribbled at the top, and below it, three tallies were drawn in dark red ink.
Days lost…I didn’t like the sound of that.
Trying not to panic, I searched the cabinets, locating some bread and what appeared to be raspberry jam. Dried meats, oats, honey, and cheese. A decently stocked kitchen.
I examined the jar in my hand, my stomach grumbling. “You hung—” I asked Era, and when I glanced over at her, my words caught in my throat.
She was on all fours, head to the floor as she searched under the couch.
Her perfect ass in the air.
Tithara, spare me. Was all this just a test of my pathetic self-control? My shit morals as of late? My unbearable attraction to a woman I couldn’t have?
If so, I was failing miserably.
At my frozen state, Era lifted her head, looking over at me with a raised brow. My gaze quickly veered, and I cleared my throat, studying the jar.
Yes. It is red. Must be raspberry. Or strawberry.
Her voice was sultry, like silk, as she taunted, “Too arousing for you, Merrick?”
When I dared a glance at her, she was kneeling, grinning in victory.
I scoffed, placing the jam on the counter. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”
She snickered, and I twisted open the jar, pleased by the sweet scent. After another quick search, I even managed to locate some homemade butter.
“What other food is in there?” Era asked as she sat at the table, just as I began to slice pieces of bread for us. “How do we know it’s…you know. Not poisoned?”
I halted my cutting. “Fuck. I didn’t think about that.”
“That was one thing we always had to be cautious about in the castle,” she commented, twisting her hair around her finger. “We’d have servants test the food before we’d take a bite.”
My eyes fell, and I resumed cutting. “Sad that some lives are valued less than others,” I said quietly. “What a shit job.”
Era propped her face up against her palms. “Sad that people wish to poison others,” she replied. “But yes, I get what you’re saying.”
I held up the piece of bread and hesitated for just a moment before taking a bite.
Era’s eyes bulged, her palms slapping the table as she stood. “Merrick!”
“What?” I said with my mouth full. “One of us had to test it, and it sure as shit wasn’t going to be you.”
She was taken aback, hurt shining in her eyes. “What, you think I’m too selfish to be the test dummy?”
“Not at all.” I swallowed, hauling out the chair across from her and plopping my ass down. “I wouldn’t have allowed you to be one.”
She scowled at me and then abruptly snatched the jar of jam.
“Hey!” I snapped, reaching for it. But that sneaky woman was too quick. Era backed her chair away from the wooden table and grabbed the spoon inside the jar. She offered nothing but a devilish grin before putting a scoop of jam on her tongue.
I watched her in fear as her throat worked, and she swallowed. “Well?”
She nodded to herself. “Raspberry.” She crossed her arms, tilting her nose up at me. “You’re not going to be the only one testing all this food. I am more than capable.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. And then we both went for the butter. I laughed at her when I reached the knife first, then put a small dollop on my tongue.
My brows drew together as I tasted it, and I had no time to warn Era before she, too, put some in her mouth.
She winced right away, smacking her lips. “What the hell. Why does it taste like that?”
I grasped the cloth-wrapped stick of butter and sniffed. “Oh shit.”
“What?!”
I cringed. “Uh…this is definitely some…herb-infused butter.”
Her shoulders fell. “No fucking way,” she said nervously.
I bit back my laughter. “Should’ve just let me be the test dummy after all.”
She groaned, covering her face. “Just great,” she muttered, peeking at me through her fingers. “How much time do we have?”
The scent was similar to dagga, but something was different about it. Not sure what. “Considering we haven't eaten much? A half hour or so.”
Era’s chair screeched as she promptly stood, her playful demeanor gone. “I’m going to keep searching for those damn keys.”
“You don’t want to eat?”
She shook her head, gazing at the bookshelves. “That’s enough risk for one day.”
We had some time before the effects of whatever herb in the butter began to kick in.
The same went for discovering whether the bread or jam was tainted with anything.
We really shouldn’t have eaten more than one thing at once.
..but no takebacks now. I wrapped the loaf up to keep its moisture, closed the lid to the jam, and then helped her in the search.
There was no clock in here—no way of knowing how many minutes or hours had gone by as we worked. As snow packed against the windows, we couldn’t tell day from night.
All I knew was that after what felt like hours—but probably more like forty minutes—I was exhausted. Based on Era’s drooping lids, she was as well. After accepting our defeat in our hunt for the keys, we stumbled into the bedroom with no appetite for anything else.
“Perhaps that butter is for sleeping,” she yawned, sitting on the mattress. Era frowned when I didn’t join her and remained by the doorframe.
“I’m going to keep watch,” I explained.
Her expression hardened. “You’re not sleeping?”
“Can’t protect you if I am unconscious.”
Her gaze went over my shoulder, and then swiftly, she stepped forward, shutting the door behind me.
She fumbled with the simple lock on the knob, then lifted a brow at me.
“The door is locked now, on top of the other locked door in front. Surely you will hear if something is amiss, and then you can follow through with your duty to protect me if needed.” She raised her chin, crossing her arms. “You need sleep, too. I can see the haziness in your eyes.”
Warmth had begun blooming in my chest several minutes ago, but I didn’t wish to worry her by telling her I was feeling high.
I glanced at the bed, then back to those alluring brown eyes. “Ah, I get it.” A grin spread across my face. “You just want me in bed with you.”
She slapped my arm.
“Ouch!” I whined. “You really like slapping my arm, huh?”
Era huffed, rolling her eyes as she marched away. But then she stopped before the bed. She was quiet for a moment before her shoulders dropped. Her back was to me as she whispered, “I do want you in bed with me. Because I’m afraid.”
My lips turned downward, and I allowed her emotions to filter through me. Upon feeling her worries, her fear, I moved toward her, hugging her from behind.
Relief settled over her like a blanket. “I need you by me,” she whispered, resting her head back on my chest. “What if things change again? What if we’re separated?”
She released a shaky exhale as I murmured into her ear, “We’ll be okay. I won’t let you go.”
Heat flooded through me, courtesy of her, and she tilted her head back, a soft smile on her face.
After feeding the fire some more wood, we got under the covers, facing each other as we lay down. I was genuinely amazed by how comfortable I felt around her. I wasn’t big on physical touch. I was insecure in many ways. And yet lying beside her felt like the most natural thing in the world.
As I studied her, a smile crept over her face, followed by a soft laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I asked slowly.
She bit her lip, and I just then realized how red and glassy the whites of her eyes had become. “You look like you want to eat me.”
She began giggling nonstop, her laughter contagious. “Eat you?” I exclaimed, wearing an incredulous smile. “Do you think I’m a monster?”
She inched in closer, snuggling against my chest, her arm draping around my torso. “No…certainly not.”
I hummed as I held her to me, and we lay in comfortable silence until she pulled back enough to look at me. Her fingers traced my jawline, the bridge of my nose.
My pulse quickened. “What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly.
Her eyes followed the path of her fingertips, gliding upward to trace the cartilage of my ear and the hoops pierced through it. “You’re mesmerizing…”
All my senses were heightened by whatever that butter had been laced with. “Yeah?” I uttered like a fool, not knowing what else to say.
Her touch slid down, her index finger tracing the metal that went through my lip. “Gods, I want you so badly,” she whispered. “I can’t think straight.”
My eyes became heavy as she pressed closer, my heart thundering as I dared to hold her hip.
“Merrick,” she whispered, our lips hovering over one another’s.
“Era,” I whispered back.
And then my lips touched hers softly—a whisper of a kiss, before I claimed her mouth again. And again. And again. Drunk on the feeling of her. Drowning in her taste.
Era’s tongue circled mine in slow, torturous circles, and a soft moan slipped from her as I nipped at her bottom lip. I slid my hand down, savoring the feel of her ass in my hand as I gripped her flesh, rolling my hips against her in search of pleasant friction.
It shouldn’t feel this good. It couldn’t feel this good.
But good things never lasted for me, did they?
All of a sudden, Era shoved me away, scooting back.
“No.” She was still high; her eyes gave it away.
But her expression had shifted, carrying that guilt-ridden presence.
“No, I…I’m still married.” Her eyes bounced between mine.
“I can’t.” She shook her head quickly. “I can’t. ”
There was no hiding the hurt on my face. Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it in an attempt to halt its quivering.
“Can I hold you at least?” I offered quietly.
I knew her inner conflict was tearing her apart. I could feel a mix of longing and shame in a hopeless battle inside of her. But Era eventually conceded, shifting until her back pressed against my chest, her head resting inside my elbow.
I wanted to kiss her temple, but I refrained. “Sweet dreams,” I murmured, wrapping her in my embrace.
Era didn’t respond verbally, but her hand drifted to mine, giving it a gentle squeeze before she nuzzled her face into my arm.