Chapter 11 #2
Selene tilts her head, eyes half-shut, as if listening with something more than ears. Then she gestures silently, leading us off the path. We dismount, guiding the horses deeper into the trees. The voices echo again, distant.
They sound far away, but the way Selene moves makes me wonder if her gift sharpens even sound—if she can sense things long before they’re truly close. At last we stop. Selene slings her bow from her shoulder, and Zillah is instantly at her side. “We’ll track it,” Selene whispers. Zillah nods once.
And just like that, they vanish into the trees. I’m left with Lowan. He adjusts Kairas’s reins, scanning the dark. Then he turns to me. “Stay here. I won’t be far.”
I blink. “Wait—you’re going after them? That’s ridiculous. Selene and Zillah are tracking, so they can actually—”
“I’m not getting close.” His voice is low, steady. “But I need to know who would dare come this near to my family’s lands. Whether they’re just wanderers, or something worse.”
I cross my arms, mutinous. “You don’t have Selene’s gifts. Or Zillah’s. You’ll give us away.”
His mouth quirks, just barely. “I have my way of patrolling these woods.”
Before I can argue again, he reaches out. Gently, almost absentmindedly, he pulls my hood up over my hair. His knuckles graze my temple, lingering for half a second too long, the leather of his glove soft against my skin.
“You need to keep this hidden,” he murmurs. “Even though it’s beautiful.”
The words burn hotter than the touch. I go perfectly still. And then he’s gone.
It feels like they’ve been gone for ages. I sit. I stand. I pace. Finally, I fish an apple out of the satchel and nibble at it. Kairas’s ears flick as I crunch. I grin and hold out a piece, and he plucks it neatly from my palm. “At least one of us is having a good time,” I mutter.
Still restless, I draw my dagger and send it spinning at a nearby tree.
Thunk. Dead center. I throw again. And again.
My heart slows, steadying with each strike.
But the dagger feels too small in my hand now.
Too tame. I slide it back into my boot and draw the sword Lowan gave me.
For a moment, I stare at it—the gleam of the blade, the perfect balance when I shift it in my grip.
I whirl it once, twice, slicing the air, jabbing at invisible enemies, pivoting to block blows that only exist in my imagination.
My blood hums with it, with him—his training threaded into my movements, alive in my muscles.
If the dagger ever felt like a tether to him, this sword is more. This sword is him. Holding it is like holding his hand, his presence guiding each movement. My chest thrums with power and with something I don’t dare name.
Finally breathless, I sheath the blade and drop against a tree trunk. The forest presses quietly around me. My pulse races again, but not from practice this time. What if they don’t come back? What if something happened, and I’m just sitting here like an idiot waiting for ghosts?
I look at Kairas. His dark eyes are calm, unreadable. “You could get us back to the estate, right?” I ask him. “If it came to that?”
His ear twitches. Not exactly reassuring. Branches rustle. Voices break through. Relief crashes over me so hard I sag against the tree. They emerge bickering.
“I don’t know why you thought you had to run off,” Zillah snaps. “You could’ve stayed here with Metra. Selene had it handled.”
“I know she did,” Lowan says, clipped. “I just wanted to see for myself. We left Mother and Sirona at home—”
“We have guards,” Zillah cuts in.
“Maybe so,” he bites back, “but it’s my responsibility to keep everyone safe.”
Zillah throws her hands up. “That’s a role you gave yourself, brother. No one ever said you had to protect every soul on this side of the Knollwood single-handedly.”
They’re still bristling when Selene drifts between them, serene as ever. “Lost travelers,” she says lightly. “Once I was certain, I encouraged the wind to guide them back toward the road they needed. All is well.”
I exhale, my shoulders sagging. Selene gives me a small, knowing smile. “We’re not far off our intended path. We’ll continue this way. The route is still safe.” And just like that, the tension ebbs.
By the time the sun sinks and Selene calls the halt, I feel like my bones are ground to dust. My back aches, my thighs scream, and even dismounting Kairas takes effort. I try not to show it, but I can feel Lowan’s eyes tracking every wince.
Zillah and Selene take the first watch, leaving me hobbling toward the tent I share with Lowan. He ducks inside after me, setting his sword near the flap. His gaze flicks over me, sharp and assessing. “You’re sore.”
I lift my chin. “I wouldn’t say sore. Mildly uncomfortable, maybe.”
His mouth curves. A rare laugh rumbles in his chest. “Mildly uncomfortable. Right.” He steps closer. “May I?”
I blink. “May you what?”
“Help.” His voice dips lower. “Through your clothes. Nothing more.”
Heat curls through me. I hesitate—then nod.
He moves behind me, large hands finding my shoulders. The first press of his thumbs makes me gasp, a sound so sinful I clap a hand over my mouth. He chuckles, low and dark, and keeps going.
“First time I rode this far,” he says, voice near my ear, “I thought I’d never walk again. My mother had a salve for the muscles. Helped ease the ache. That, and hot baths.”
I groan as his hands knead between my shoulder blades. “Too bad I don’t have either of those.”
He works lower, down my spine. His touch is firm, precise, unbearably good—my head tips forward despite myself.
“Actually,” he murmurs, “I brought some of the salve. Asked Mother for it before we left.”
“You did?” My voice is breathy, traitorous.
“Yes. I figured the journey would be hard on you.” His hands slide lower still, over the curve of my hips, down the tight muscles of my thighs. My knees nearly buckle.
“And if Selene knows the land well enough,” he adds, “she may even lead us to hot springs along the way. By then, we’ll all be ready for a soak.”
“That sounds…” I shiver as he presses along the back of my calves. “…glorious.”
He shifts around to face me, still crouched, still massaging.
My heart stutters. His head is level with my waist, his hands strong on my legs, and the closeness is dizzying.
Then he stands. We’re suddenly face-to-face, breaths mingling, the air charged.
I swallow hard, unable to keep from imagining what it would feel like if there weren’t clothes between us.
“So,” he murmurs, “do you want it?”
My mind blanks. “Want… what?”
“The salve.” His eyes gleam, wickedly amused.
Blood rushes to my cheeks. “Yes. Yes, please. The salve.”
His mouth curves. “I’ll fetch it.”
And then he’s gone, slipping out of the tent, leaving me trembling in the dark.