53. Chapter 53
Chapter 53
Janelle
J anelle had thought the pain would never stop, but as she woke up in a soft bed, she was pleased to discover she’d been wrong. Though still sore, her back and hip aching and her body tired, she could actually breathe. Deep inhales that didn’t send searing agony through her ribcage.
"Janelle?" Erik's voice cut through the stillness. A chair scraped as Janelle opened her eyes.
"Thank the gods," Erik breathed, leaning forward and touching her cheek. His thumb gently trailed along her skin, causing goosebumps to pebble on her arms.
"Where are we? Did we make it to Alnwyn?"
"No," Erik said, handing her a cup. "We’re in a little town called Bacar. I needed to get you somewhere safe to heal."
"Have there been more?" she asked.
Erik shook his head. "Just aftershocks. Small tremors, but nothing like before."
Janelle exhaled a sigh of relief. "How long was I out?" It wasn’t as if she could look at the sun to see how many hours had passed.
"About a day. The healing was extensive. Your body needed the rest." Erik ran his hands down her arms, the lines on his face relaxing as she wiggled up against the pillows, moving without agonizing pain. “How do you feel now?"
Janelle twisted side to side, then swung her legs gently over the side of the bed. "I think I'm okay," she said, tentatively standing. The soreness remained, but it was nothing like what she’d experienced when the branch had hit her. She took a few cautious steps, moving to the cracked window to look outside. The town was tiny, maybe ten squat houses around a small village square with a garden at its center.
"We should go," Janelle said, considering that they were taking a room in a house that was likely needed by those living here. "Whose home is this? I'd like to thank them."
"The village is abandoned," Erik said. "They probably went to a different town on our army's orders, to avoid the wildfires."
Janelle looked back outside, her eyes flicking to the garden, then between the houses near it. "Are you sure?" she asked. She wasn't sure why, but it didn't feel abandoned to her. The homes hadn’t quite settled into neglect, and a vague scent of bacon and eggs hung in the air. "And, did you make food?" Janelle asked.
A blush crept up Erik’s neck. "I know it's technically stealing, but it was just some bread. It would’ve gone stale by the time the villagers returned, anyway. And some crackers." He looked away. "Okay, and I took some dried fruit to bring with us. But I think what we’re doing for the kingdom is enough of a repayment, don't you?"
"Not judging," Janelle said, holding up a hand. "Just thinking."
"About what?" Erik asked, his shoulders straightening as he caught onto her apprehension. Fire gathered in his hands, and despite it raising the temperature in the room by a few degrees, Janelle felt reassured that he had it at the ready.
"I don't feel like we're alone," Janelle said.
As if she had summoned it, the sound of horses’ hooves clacked from the stones leading into the village. Janelle ducked, hiding herself as Erik jumped to look out the window.
"What are you doing?" Janelle asked, but Erik ignored her.
"Royal soldiers—deserters, maybe?" Fire spread up Erik's arms. "They have Cinnamon. They must’ve heard her and gone to investigate. That’s why they weren’t here."
Relief washed over Janelle as she peered through the window to see Cinnamon returning with the soldiers. They wouldn’t have to continue on foot now.
"Let’s go," Erik said.
Janelle winced. "Don’t we need a plan or something? You’re just going to go out there and demand our horse back?"
“I have a plan. If they help us, I won’t kill them," he said.
Janelle’s stomach twisted as she counted the men—ten against two.
"Do you doubt me, wife?" Erik asked, his eyes mischievous.
"Of course not," she said, but her voice faltered. Were these soldiers still loyal to Alaric? Or had they seen how evil he was and fled?
Two more men appeared between the trees, and Janelle stiffened. Her head swam and her breaths became shallow as they approached, their features becoming more clear with every step. But even from a distance, Janelle would have recognized them easily—these men were the reason they had specifically chosen to search Alnwyn.
She pressed a hand against her sternum, trying to force her heart to slow. It didn’t help. Her heart continued to slam against her ribs, each beat coming faster than the last.
Erik’s brows lowered as he rushed to her side, his eyes flicking back to the window and his hand going to the hilt of his sword. "What is it?" he asked.
Janelle tried to speak, but only air escaped her lips. She cleared her throat, meeting Erik’s eyes, and he leaned closer, cupping her face.
“Is it them?” he asked, his voice like gravel. His eyes were dark, dancing with flames, but his touch remained gentle. Steady and strong.
She nodded.
Erik didn’t move for several seconds, staring into her eyes with a look that said everything he wasn’t. That he loved her. That he was sorry for what had happened to her. And that he was going to fucking rip them limb from limb.
Janelle had spent years dreaming of this day. Of getting revenge against Jakob and Stefan. But now that they were here, just feet away, Janelle felt the urge to run. To take Erik far away from the terrible men who had hurt her and make sure they could never hurt either of them ever again.
But the tension in his posture told Janelle that nothing would deter him from enacting his revenge. And even if she could convince him to run with her, she loved him too much to deprive him of his vengeance.
Erik finally stood, his flames growing until they began to singe the curtains by the window.
"Hey! Who’s there?" someone yelled from outside as smoke escaped through the small crack between the panes of glass.
"Your worst fucking nightmare," Erik growled as he wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, lifted his chin, and stormed toward the door.