Chapter 6 #2
I have half a thought to leave him there, let him wait out in the woods for the whole night. See how he fares in the wild.
“Don’t you dare.” He narrows his gaze at me. “You may have cut off our bond, but I know that look. Pondering something devious.”
I chuckle, and a smile cracks, but I quickly smother my reaction. Mikael holds in whatever his dancing eyes want to say. I circle around him so we’re parallel, and hold out my hand.
“What if I forced you to take me here?” Mikael asks. “We’d just have to be holding hands?”
“Do you really think my father made it that easy?”
He shrugs. “It’s easy to overlook threats.”
“It can’t be forced, only willingly given access to. So, no, you couldn’t force me to bring you. The protective barrier would reject you—probably kill you. My father knew what enchantments he was weaving when he put the wards in place.”
Mikael places his hand in mine. His skin is surprisingly warm against the coldness that has seeped into my fingers along the ride. But it’s wrong, and I want to reject his touch even though a part of my soul sparks at the way his hand closes around mine.
Maybe dying would be easier than dealing with all of these emotions. I wouldn’t be surprised if I die from this curse, simply because I can’t handle being around him.
When we crest the hill, the moonlight illuminates a rough-hewn stone cottage; its peaked roof laid with wooden shingles is nestled among dense foliage. Blue and white flowers pepper the ground; the cold-loving blooms bring beauty to the deep shade of the evergreen forest.
The view before me is frozen in time, like I’ve stepped into a memory. It looks exactly as it did the last time I was here.
I wasn’t sure what I’d find when we got here, except some sign that time overtook the place in my family’s absence.
Guiding my mare to the hitching post, I dismount and tie the reins to the black-painted wooden pole.
The ornate wooden door, decorated with vines and leaves carved into it, doesn’t even creak when I open it.
Moonlight spills into the space from the windows and open door. I turn to Mikael. “You’re not opposed to manual labor, are you? Can you start a fire?”
“You’re joking, right?” Mikael responds.
“I don’t know; you may have gotten special treatment after the battle. A reward for your loyalty.” I stress the last word. A loyalty he should have had to me, to our bond.
“Don’t.” Mikael’s tone deepens and he eyes me before pivoting and walking away.
I step into the wide-open space; the only separate room is the washroom. My parents wanted a cozy home with no walls or barriers when we visited. Opposite our life in the palace, with our separate spaces and distance from each other.
It’s a simple cottage, filled with so much love and happy memories that I’m regretting my decision to stop here with Mikael—it’s just another thing he can taint.
Against one end of the room is a small double-pot stove and a few chairs tucked into a round table. The only bed, large enough for three, rests against the wall on the other side of the cabin, below the window. The hearth is directly across from the doorway I’m still standing in.
I take off my riding boots and walk around.
My hand instinctively reaches for pockets of long-held memories, like the painted vines swirling around the window frame as I check for dust. I inspect the rocking chairs in front of the hearth and shake out the blanket on the bed. No dust-sprite eaten fabric or spider-webbed windowsills.
Everything is perfect.
Either my father used complicated magic to keep the house in this condition, or he was paying a handsome sum for the woodland sprites to do it. Whichever it was, I am grateful it will be a comfortable place to sleep, unknowing what tomorrow will bring.
Mikael returns, holding an armful of wood. “Can you help me? Either hold the wood or unlace my boots?”
“So, you either want me to be on my knees in front of you, or holding your wood?”
Mikael barks out a laugh. “That was a good one.”
I don’t stop my smile this time. As much as I hate him, I’m too exhausted after the last day to be angry. “I’ll take the wood.”
I grab the bundle from his arms and carry it to the stone wood box at the left of the hearth. Kneeling, I maneuver the bundle in my arms and neatly stack the logs one by one.
Mikael’s footsteps are barely audible as he comes up behind me. He leans over, his face coming to my ear. He hesitates, as if he wants to say something, but instead only grabs a few pieces of wood and puts them in the firebox.
I excuse myself and shake off the way his closeness threatens the walls I spent decades building. Roughly, I snatch a pot from the hanging rack and fill it with water, then hand it to Mikael. “Will you heat the water, please? I’m going to change.”
I shed my riding leathers and slip into a long tunic that falls past my knees. When I come back into the main room, Mikael is sitting at the table with two mugs full of steaming liquid.
“Here.” Mikael hands me one of the ceramic mugs. The familiar scent of blackberries and black tea rises along with the steam. “Your favorite.”
“Thanks.” Your favorite. I lean against the counter and stare out the window, unable to say anything else. Unable to articulate any other thought. He remembers my favorite tea after two centuries apart. I wrap my hands around the mug, warming them.
“This is comfortable,” he says, sounding further away.
I turn to find him lying on the bed. “You can have it,” I say. “I’ll take the floor, since we are not sleeping in the same bed together. Plus, you’ve now spoiled it with your dirty clothes.”
“I would never let a lady sleep on the floor.” He rises and dusts the blanket off.
“I’ve slept on the floor of a cell, thanks to you, so discomfort at your expense is nothing new.” I raise a brow.
Mikael frowns, then walks toward me. He reaches out to grab my hand, but I take a step back. His head falls in defeat and he sighs, running his hands through his hair.
He looks back at me, holding my gaze. My eyes widen as he kneels. What is he doing? We haven’t even been in each other’s presence again for more than two days.
“The hope I hold onto is that one day the truth will be known.” As he speaks, his hands emphasize the words.
“Until then, know that you blessed me with warmth when there was once only a cold shell of a man. The light you exude extinguished the darkness that had engulfed me. You are worthy of life, even if it costs me my own. I will not idly stand by—”
“Just stop.” I shake my head, stopping his proclamation as tears threaten to fall. I had cut him out of my heart. Broke our bond by force so I wouldn’t have to feel him anymore. “I buried that part of my life, and I will not dig it up.”
“Look me in the eyes and tell me that’s your truth.”
I channel every ounce of pain and hatred that coursed through me after I found out what he did, and at the desperation I felt in needing to fix my mistake.
When I meet his gaze, my vision is almost blurred from the tears welling within my eyes.
I will not allow him to break me.
Using the buried emotions, I assault him with my words, wanting to crush whatever hope he clings to. “I’m finished with us. Once this is over, you will never show your face in Eidrfall again. You will go back to your vampire king and kin.”
Mikael nods, then rises.
His gaze softens as his thumb moves like a whisper against my skin, wiping off the single tear that escaped. He pivots and busies himself with unrolling his pack on the floor.
The weight of his silence stretches as he strips off his clothing and lies down, face toward the fire. “Get some sleep. We don’t know what we’ll be up against tomorrow.”
Instead of going to bed, I step outside and break into a run.
Brush snaps as each foot pounds against the ground, low-hanging branches reaching out to stop me, but I dodge and duck.
My hair whips around in the wild wind, stunting my vision.
Pain flares along my cheek. I wipe away the blood trailing along my face and breathe in sharply as I keep moving forward.
When I’m just inside the barrier of our land’s protection, I purposely slam into the trunk of a large oak, gripping it tightly.
I’m far enough away from the cabin that he will not be able to hear the scream that rips from my throat.
Panting, I suck down breath after breath, the air cutting into my lungs from the sharpness of the cold. How can his presence muddle my mind and heart so badly after I thought I had eradicated him?
I had tried to carve out the love I held for him, but a new realization bubbles forth. Pieces of that love may have remained, hidden, buried so deep even I couldn’t force myself to completely reject what we had.
How could it not remain, when it was a soul-binding bond we shared?
I should have asked a Reaver to rip him out of my soul and been rid of him for good. But even that wouldn’t have worked because our souls are too intertwined to ever be separated.
Fuck. My fists pound into the bark over and over until blood sprays my face, and pain radiates up my arm. I turn and slide down the trunk, taking a moment to compose myself.
Break this curse and get him out of your life. Don’t let his dick distract you from what he did.
He betrayed you. He betrayed the fae. He is the reason so many died. Not me. Not me. I saved the rest, including the other vampires.
I make the trek back to the cottage, repeating those phrases over and over. Reinforcing the walls I built around my heart until there is no way in. I recall my plan; build up that hope he has, then destroy him.
The cabin door comes into view, and I give myself a shake, blowing out a breath.
We all need a good reset, every now and then.