Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
VALERIAN
Fuck. I let my guard down, thought we’d be safe here for the night. But dawn has arrived and, with it, her murderous family.
Time to make our way out of this place.
Grabbing my pants from the floor where I dropped them last night, I pull them on and turn to find her with her back to me, reaching for the brown dress the maids brought. She’s shy again, hiding herself from me, but the joke’s on her because every side of her is beautiful.
I shouldn’t look without permission, and I shouldn’t waste time gazing at her, but tell that to my traitorous mind and body, both of whom want her.
Grabbing the knife she has been carrying, I open the door a crack and glance outside. It’s barely light, but even in this form, I see better than most men, and I see horses crowding the inn’s yard. I poke my head out and recognize one of the men sitting astride.
That’s not fucking good.
“Princess.” I turn to find her fastening the laces at her chest. I take over, pulling them and tying them up. “Shoes?”
She sits on the bed to wear them, and swearing inwardly, I crouch down to aid her. It’s a struggle not to focus on the sight of her elegant legs and dainty feet, the feel of her soft skin as I slide her stockings on and then her shoes.
What I wouldn’t give to be by her side and look after her all my life? Every touch, every moment with her gives me joy.
Dammit, Valen, get your head on straight and get going!
“Come on.” I take her hand and haul her to her feet. “We need to make a run for it. We’ll avoid the central yard. I know another way out.”
“Wait…” Her face is a pale oval under her tangled dark hair, her brows a knot of concern. “What if there was a mistake? What if they aren’t here yet—?”
“They are in the yard. I saw them. I recognized that fae asshole who put me in chains.”
“Lord Sinen? Oh, no…”
Without another word, I pull her along as I open the door and step outside. Here we are visible to everyone, exposed, so we need to hurry the hell up.
She’s quiet, following my lead. This show of trust in me warms my insides. All my focus is on getting her away from here and to safety.
There is a set of stairs leading to the back of the inn.
It’s an escape hatch of sorts, a rarely used stairwell I only know because I’m a black sheep—well, a dark fae, which amounts to the same in a society that despises us.
Having stayed here a few times, I made a point of locating all the escape routes, which is now coming in handy.
Pushing the narrow door open, I lead her down the worn, old steps. In older times, this inn used to be a smugglers’ haunt on the way to the mountains. Mariella has told me all about it. Fuck, I hope she won’t get into trouble over us.
Making a mental note to ask after her later, make sure she’s okay, I clench Rosie’s hand in mine and stop at the bottom of the staircase.
I half-open the door to the street and sniff the air, searching for any scents I know, as well as listening out for familiar voices.
I’ll never forget the scents and voices of my captors.
Nobody seems to be outside. Nobody that matters. I can smell dogs, cats, rats, pigeons and ravens. Random people who passed by some time ago. Faint scent traces, already fading in the morning air.
“All clear.” I open the door wide and lead Rosie outside. The street is narrow and deserted, houses rising on either side. “We have to make haste.”
We run. She follows me, keeping pace at first but quickly lagging behind. Few people can keep up with me when I put in a burst of speed, and that’s among the wolves. Somewhere behind us, I hear shouting.
Fuck.
We could try stealing a horse, but my scent spooks horses, even when I’m not anywhere close to shifting.
I stop and she glances around, panting, her cheeks flushed red. “What do we do?”
“Climb on my back,” I say. “I’ll run.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t run like that.”
“Want to bet? I’ve carried sacks filled with rocks and prey that’s five times your weight while running.”
“Sacks filled with rocks?”
“For training.” I turn my back to her and crouch down. “Now, Princess, or they’ll catch us. Hop on. Or would that be too inappropriate?”
She gives a soft snort, mutters something about it being “too late for that,” and climbs onto my back, her arms around my neck, her legs curled around my hips.
Her face is pressed to the back of my neck, her hair tickling my skin, her scent… Fuck, I’m hard, so fucking hard for her, I can’t bear it.
But I get up, grab her legs to make sure she doesn’t fall off, and race the hell out of this town.
I race through fields, meadows and woods, over rises and down hollows in the land.
Her hair lashes my face sometimes, her arms loosen around my neck, but I keep her on my back as I run and run.
My bare feet are used to the ground, and a light shift comes over me, turning my soles into hard pads, turning my nails into claws, and my face…
Well, it’s a good thing she can’t see it right now, although she has seen me half-shifted before and she didn’t shy away.
That’s such a warm memory, and I keep it close to my heart, though I try not to poke it too hard. Not with everything in me already needing her. I fear that the fragile memory might break and cut me to pieces.
Finally, I come to a stop at the foot of a steep hill, near a thicket, and I crouch down so she can climb off me. I don’t fully release her legs until I’m sure she’s on the ground and steady.
Then I plant my ass down and take a moment to regain my bearings.
She sits down beside me. “Are you okay? You must be exhausted.”
“I’m fine. I could have used some breakfast, though.”
“Is that a wolf thing?” she quips. “Thinking of food all the time?”
“We also think about sex. We divide our time between the two.” I laugh at her nonplussed expression. “Oh, Princess. You’re easy to tease.”
She winces. “Too na?ve.”
“You’re learning. Not so na?ve anymore. Also, didn’t I tell you I only tease the people I like?”
A smile tugs at her lips. “Is that true?”
“Yeah. Cross my heart.”
“Isn’t that a human expression?”
“And we’re speaking your language, or hadn’t you noticed? We fae borrowed your language and customs for our everyday exchanges. We keep the old tongue mostly for formal and ceremonial situations.”
Her brows arch. “Oh. I thought you still used it among yourselves.”
“A few centuries ago, perhaps we still did. Not anymore. At least, not among the werewolves. Can’t really speak for the fae living among you, or even every dark fae clan living on the mountains or the world rim.”
She nods, looking thoughtful. As if this is a relevant topic of conversation to our circumstances, a topic we need to discuss right now.
As if we’re not sitting on the ground, filthy and sweaty, out of breath, running away from the people hunting her, hunting both of us, a werewolf and a human girl who should have nothing in common and yet are on this journey together.
The thing is, it’s easy to talk to her about anything.
I can see myself talking to her over breakfast about wolf habits, over lunch about the history of the world, over dinner about the way rabbits dance in the starlight, or whatever other inane topic springs to my mind.
I feel she’d listen and tell me her opinion.
That she would maybe laugh and swat at me, but then she’d get involved, engrossed in the subject, and we’d have a good time.
I have a good time with most people, but not… not like this. With such ease. Such lightheartedness. Such enjoyment.
Damn. I’m doing it again. Imagining my life with her. A future with us together.
Jumping to my feet, I decide I need to cool my head off. “Wait here, I’m going to climb that hill.”
“Why?”
“I want to calculate how far we are from this Lord’s manor. Didn’t you want to know?”
“Yes, but…” She gets up, too. “Don’t you need to rest?”
“I’m a wolf, lady. I’m not like you.”
“Valen, don’t do that, don’t…”
I don’t want to hear it. “Stay put. I won’t be long. If you need me, yell.”
“That’s it?”
“Wolf hearing. Don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”