Chapter 13 #2
A diminutive female dressed in a wool smock was standing on the doorstep clutching a small wooden box.
Snow-white hair hung in long ropes over her shoulders, with beads woven into the braids.
Her eyes were a vivid arctic blue — ancient-looking in a way that made me feel as if they could see right through a person.
At last, the royal guard stowed his weapon.
Though the top of her head barely reached Adriel’s sternum, the old fae met his gaze with a fierce expression that said she had stared down more formidable opponents.
“Is he here?” she whispered.
“He is,” said Sorsha.
The female’s eyes widened at the sight of the princess, and she shoved the box into Adriel’s chest before throwing her arms around her.
“Good gods, Highness! I never thought I’d see the day!”
Sorsha made a strangled note of surprise, though she seemed pleased by the old faerie’s reaction. “It’s good to see you too, Gertie.”
Gertrude pulled back, squeezing Sorsha’s arms for good measure as she looked her up and down. “As radiant as ever, Highness. And you —” She jerked her head around to look at Adriel, tutting at whatever she saw. “A tall and silent string bean. Don’t they feed you in that godsforsaken place?”
Adriel coughed, though it sounded as if he were choking on a laugh.
“And who is this?” Gertrude demanded, those icy blue eyes widening as they landed on me.
It was then that I realized I still bore marks from the demon female’s talons. The wounds had already begun to heal, but dried blood coated my face.
“Lyra,” I said, trying to smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You are not fae!” she exclaimed, narrowing her gaze as she studied me with renewed scrutiny.
“No,” I said, staring at my boots. Clearly, Adriel and Sorsha knew the faerie, but I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her.
“Lyra’s with us,” Sorsha said in a tone that seemed to put an end to any further inquiries.
“But where is the prince?”
“He’s . . . resting,” Sorsha muttered, glancing toward the ceiling.
“Gertrude?”
The voice from above was low and urgent, and I whipped around to see Kaden standing on the narrow landing.
“Your Highness.” Gertrude’s eyes crinkled with warmth, but her smile faltered at the sight of him.
“Could I speak with you a moment?” Kaden’s gaze flitted over me. “Alone.”
The old faerie looked startled by the request, but she merely nodded and started up the stairs. Adriel’s brows furrowed as he stared at the prince, though he didn’t say a word.
My chest squeezed as Kaden turned back toward the ladder. Who was this female, and why would he speak to her and not me?
Sorsha, for one, seemed unconcerned. Prying the box out of Adriel’s grip, she set it on the counter and began pulling out provisions –– steaming meat pies, oat cakes, cheese, and bread. The succulent smell of game and herbs reached my nostrils, but I had no appetite.
Sinking down into a chair, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing up the staircase every few minutes. Adriel hadn’t moved toward the table. He just stood at the foot of the steps, waiting.
Finally, the old female emerged, her face grim as she descended the stairs. The empty feeling inside me seemed to yawn wider when Kaden didn’t appear.
“Make sure he eats something,” she said to Adriel, though her concerned gaze flitted in my direction. “I’ll bring more tomorrow. This was all I could wrangle on such short notice.”
“Thank you,” said Sorsha.
“I’ll see to it that someone brings some firewood down so you don’t catch your death.” Gertrude cast an exasperated look around the cabin and then headed for the door. “You know where to find me if you need anything else.”
I swallowed, wanting to thank the old fae, but I couldn’t quite find the words. Whoever Gertrude was to Kaden and Sorsha, it was obvious that she cared for them.
The notion brought a surge of emotion to my throat. It had been years since I’d lost my own mother, and I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be fussed over.
As the sun dipped below the trees, slivers of red and blue and golden light fanned out across the floor. Sorsha summoned a few balls of faelight to illuminate the small table, and she and Adriel fell upon the food like wolves.
Even though I knew Kaden wasn’t going to join us, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing up the staircase every few minutes.
“I should go check to see if he wants something to eat,” I muttered, shoving my chair back as I stood.
“He knows the food is here,” said Adriel. “He’ll come down if he’s hungry.”
“You should eat,” said Sorsha gently. “You need your strength.”
Reluctantly, I sat back down and took the meat pie she offered me, which was somehow still warm. I bit into the flaky crust and nearly groaned aloud as the rich gravy spilled onto my tongue –– venison and candied mushrooms, stewed in rosemary, thyme, and something peppery I couldn’t quite place.
By the time I had eaten my fill, darkness had fallen outside, and the fire had burned down low in the grate.
“We can’t stay here,” said Adriel quietly, as though picking up a conversation we’d all been having earlier. He glanced at me but fixed his gaze on Sorsha, who was nibbling on an oatcake. “Semphrys may not be able to reach us here, but his demons can.”
“What do you propose?”
“We leave at first light. Make our way over the pass and get to the Great Oak.”
“He isn’t ready to travel,” I said, irrationally angry that Adriel seemed completely unfazed by Kaden’s current state. “His wings —”
“His wings are the least of our problems,” Adriel shot back, keeping his voice low. “Semphrys knows we have safe houses scattered all over the Oranthan Mountains. It’s only a matter of time before his demons catch up.”
“We aren’t leaving,” I said, more firmly this time. “Not until his wings are healed.”
Adriel’s jaw tightened. “If Semphrys finds us —”
“I know the risks,” I bit back. “But he isn’t fit to travel. He’s just been through a horrific ordeal. He’s barely even spoken.”
Sorsha glanced at Adriel, her gaze a mix of concern and sympathy. I sensed there was something she wanted to say, but I refused to be overruled.
“We’re staying,” I repeated, glancing from one to the other as if daring them to challenge me.
Adriel loosed a breath, slouching back in his seat with a look of reluctant acceptance. “Fine. We’ll stay.”
I awoke with a start in the middle of the night on the edge of the double bed Sorsha and I were sharing. The musty sheets were twisted around my legs, and I was covered in gooseflesh.
A loud thud sounded from the floor above, followed by a groan. Kaden’s low voice rumbled overhead, though I couldn’t make out what he was saying.
Shivering, I pulled the blankets up under my chin, trying to ignore the ache in my chest.
After everything we had shared, it felt wrong for him to be sleeping up there alone. I wanted to wrap myself around him and assure him that it was over — and assure myself that he was alive.
A loud snarl made me sit bolt upright, shoving the covers off my legs and grabbing my dagger from the bedside table.
Padding out onto the landing, I started up the ladder in only the oversized linen shirt that I’d fished out of the safe-house wardrobe. Another groan of pain made my stomach clench, and I hurriedly pulled myself up through the opening to the loft.
My heart thudded against my ribs, loud enough that any demon would be able to hear it.
The tiny alcove was dark apart from the slivers of moonlight that managed to slip through the cracks in the walls, but my enhanced hunter vision allowed me to see that Kaden was alone.
He was sprawled on the pallet, shirtless, with his injured wings splayed out behind him. They trailed off the edge of the mattress like a velvety blanket, and I longed to reach out and touch them.
The waves inked along Kaden’s chest thrashed with his movements, and tendrils of shadow seemed to spill around him, climbing the walls and billowing at their master’s feet.
I crawled across the floor toward him, stopping at the edge of the pallet as I contemplated how to wake him without getting strangled again. His face was scrunched in fear and pain, locks of raven hair falling into his eyes.
“No,” he snarled, throwing up an arm to protect his head.
My heart clenched, and my fingers itched to reach for him. I longed to caress that beautiful face and smooth the line between his dark brows.
“Kaden,” I murmured, keeping my voice low to avoid waking the others.
He didn’t open his eyes, but flung his arm onto the bed, muscles straining as if trying to break free from invisible restraints.
“Kaden,” I said, louder this time.
Another groan of pain rumbled through him as he arched his back, exposing the long column of his throat. Veins pulsed in his neck, and I knew I had to wake him.
Tentatively, I reached out and tapped his bare shoulder. His skin was slick with sweat and cold as ice, and some of his hair stuck to his forehead.
Kaden’s eyes flew open, and his hand shot out to lock on my throat. Shadows thrashed, banding around my ankles and wrists.
“Kaden, it’s—”
My words were cut off as he tightened his grip, crushing my windpipe as he flung me down on the mattress.
The sudden change in position forced the air from my lungs, and I struggled to lift my dagger arm so I could rouse him from whatever nightmare he was still immersed in. But I couldn’t move it an inch.
Panic flooded me. Kaden wasn’t himself. His eyes were that solid black, his face twisted in a mask of fury.
Feeling desperate, I flung up a knee — striking him between the legs. Surprise lit his features a split second before the pain, and I used his momentary lapse in concentration to bring my blade up between us and press the tip to his sternum.
I glared at him, still struggling to breathe, but he’d loosened his grip enough for me to get the words out. “It’s me.”
Recognition flared in Kaden’s expression, and he wrenched his hand from my throat. His shadows withdrew from my wrists and ankles, and the blackness slowly ebbed out of his eyes.
Warmth flooded my chest at the sight of those familiar stormy gray irises, but as Kaden shoved himself away from me, his mask of cold indifference slid back into place.
“What are you doing up here?” he rumbled, staring down at the blankets.
“I heard noises,” I muttered, feeling suddenly foolish. “I came up to investigate and you . . . you were having a nightmare.”
A rough, humorless laugh escaped him, and he shoved his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “Right. A nightmare.”
My mouth dropped open, but no words came out. I glanced down at his magnificent wings, which were drooped on the pallet behind him as if his muscles couldn’t hold them up. Dried blood was still crusted around the wounds, which were red and angry looking.
Kaden saw me staring and bristled.
“Your wings —”
“Will heal,” he said in a tight voice, a muscle feathering in his jaw.
“But the rowan —”
“My body will push out any remaining splinters. They will heal in time.”
“Do you want me to —”
“No.”
I winced. He didn’t want me tending to his wings. Judging by the look on his face, he didn’t want me anywhere near him.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I just —”
“What do you want, Lyra?” Kaden gritted, his gaze swinging around to capture mine.
There was no love or affection there. Only cold fury.
“I—” I shook my head, confusion and heartbreak swirling inside me.
I couldn’t tell him that I wanted things to go back to normal.
That I wanted him to call me “little huntress” and let me curl up on the mattress beside him.
I couldn’t tell him that I wanted to hold him through his nightmares, if only to reassure myself that he was here with me instead of rotting in that wretched cell.
So I said, “I just came up here to make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine,” he huffed, ripping his gaze away. “Never better. Now you can go.”
For a moment, I just lay there on the pallet, staring up at the male I’d once known. Kaden looked like the half-demon prince, but there was no wicked gleam in his stormy gray eyes. No hint at some private joke. There wasn’t lust or amusement or . . . anything but this unabating coldness.
This was not my mate.
Grief and rage flooded me as I stared up into his broken face. I could read the pain and torment in his expression, but there was nothing I could say — nothing I could do — to take away whatever had been done to him.
Wordlessly, I pushed myself off the bed and stood, waiting for . . . what? For Kaden to change his mind and ask me to stay?
He didn’t.
Sliding through the opening and onto the ladder, I paused on my way down to stare at my mate.
Kaden knelt on the bed, his back to me. His injured wings drooped to the floor, and his head was bowed in defeat. Even his shadows seemed listless as they billowed around the pallet.
My heart ached at the sight.
I had no idea what they’d done to break the male I’d come to care for. I only hoped he would heal in time.