Chapter 22
Amara
The battle is finally over.
My forest, on the other hand, is littered with poisoned corpses, blood, and severed limbs.
Well… I imagine the earth beneath us will appreciate the fertilizer.
Colt’s companions gradually regroup around him. Every one of them is covered in blood, dirt, and leaves, silent evidence of just how fiercely they fought.
They did not know me. They owed me nothing. Yet the moment Colt asked for their help, they stood beside him without hesitation.
How curious.
I have lived for centuries, yet I cannot remember a single soul ever standing beside me with such unwavering loyalty.
I step out from the shadows, closing the distance between myself and the group.
“There you are, my queen.”
Colt’s voice softens the moment he sees me. Before I have the opportunity to respond, his arms are already around me, pulling me into a warm embrace.
I look up into his beautiful eyes and cannot help but smile.
“As requested,” I say quietly, “I kept my promise.”
He furrows his brow for a brief moment before understanding dawns across his face.
“You kept your distance.”
“I did. As you asked.”
His shoulders visibly relax.
“And, as you can plainly see,” I continue, allowing myself the faintest smile, “I remain entirely unharmed.”
He lets out a quiet laugh.
“Yeah… yeah, I get it.”
“I should hope so.”
“But,” he says, tightening his arm around my waist ever so slightly, “if I hadn’t been stubborn, we wouldn’t be together now.”
“…Together?” I repeat.
Before he can explain himself, the man I presume to be their leader steps forward.
“Forgive the interruption.”
He raises his hand toward me, silently asking for mine, and I place it in his bloodstained glove without hesitation. Instead of shaking it, he bows his head and gently presses a respectful kiss against my knuckles.
“My name is Damien Kryne. It is a pleasure to meet you.” He pauses, waiting.
“Amara. Amara Baciu.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lady Amara.”
He releases my hand before turning toward Colt.
“The talismans.”
Colt looks at him, and for the briefest of moments I notice something shift within his expression. It is almost imperceptible, yet unmistakable. Reluctance.
Even so, he obeys without question, removing every talisman from his jacket before placing them into Damien’s hands.
“Nobody needs these,” Damien says simply.
He drops them onto the ground before gathering a few dry branches and fallen leaves into a small pile.
“Apex.”
Without a word, Apex retrieves a lighter from his pocket and places it into Damien’s hand. A moment later, the flames consume every last talisman. Only then do I feel the lingering corruption begin to lift from my forest.
Colt slips his arm around my waist once more before pressing a gentle kiss against my cheek.
“You are safe now, Pixie.”
I look at him. Then at Damien. Then at each of the men who stood beside him today.
“You have my sincerest gratitude,” I say, inclining my head respectfully toward them. “You risked your lives for someone you had never met, and for that, I shall remain forever grateful. Thank you… for everything.”
“Isn’t she adorable?” Colt says, a quiet laugh escaping him. “She is adorable.”
This man shall undoubtedly become the greatest trial of my patience.
To my surprise, Damien allows himself the faintest chuckle before returning his attention to Colt.
“We should leave,” he says. “Do you need anything else?”
“Please… remain.” The words leave my lips before I have the opportunity to reconsider them.
All five men turn toward me.
“You have risked your lives in defense of mine,” I say.
“Such a debt cannot, in good conscience, be acknowledged with nothing more than words. You are weary, covered in blood and earth, and I suspect thirst has become a rather pressing concern. Allow me the honor of extending my hospitality. It is, regrettably, all I can presently offer.”
Damien studies me for a brief moment before inclining his head.
“Very well, Lady Amara.”
A courteous smile touches his lips.
“Thank you. We’d be honored.”
Relief settles quietly within me. For centuries I have concealed my home from mankind, ensuring that no wandering soul would ever discover it. Yet these five men crossed countries to preserve my life without asking for payment, recognition, or even an explanation.
If trust is a thing to be earned… they have earned it.
I turn and begin leading them deeper into the forest.
“Wait.” Colt’s voice stops me after only a few steps.
“Amara.”
I glance over my shoulder.
“What about our prisoner?”
He points toward the unfortunate man still imprisoned beneath the roots with such earnestness that, despite the circumstances, I find the gesture almost endearing.
“That matter,” I reply calmly, “is no longer one with which you need concern yourself.”
I extend my hand toward him. Without hesitation, he places his hand in mine.
An oddly natural gesture. Considering that, for centuries, the touch of my hand inspired little besides terror, I find it rather extraordinary that his instinct is to seek it instead.
Together, we continue toward the house, his companions falling into step behind us.
Before long, their conversation begins to drift through the forest.
Not tactics.
Not bloodshed.
Not death.
Merely ordinary conversation between men who have survived yet another impossible day.
I had not realized how greatly I had missed the sound of people speaking simply because they enjoyed one another’s company.
By the time everyone has bathed and exchanged their bloodstained garments for clean attire from my rather… extensive collection, the house has begun to resemble itself once more.
It is, perhaps, one of the stranger consequences of immortality.
One accumulates possessions.
Some inherit fortunes.
I inherited wardrobes.
The scent of blood has long since yielded to cedar, clean linen, and the tea steeping quietly upon the table. The fire crackles within the hearth, filling the room with a warmth I had almost forgotten could be shared with others.
Mihai, Ryan, and Apex occupy the sofa opposite the fireplace.
Damien claims the armchair nearest the fire as though it has always belonged to him.
Archer, to my mild surprise, declines the invitation of softer furniture altogether, choosing instead one of the large cushions arranged upon the rug.
Colt naturally settles beside me without so much as considering an alternative.
I suspect he has decided my immediate vicinity now belongs to him.
An unexpectedly pleasant development.
One by one, I place a cup of tea into each waiting hand before taking my own seat.
For a short while, the room is wonderfully quiet. It is, by every conceivable measure, a remarkable improvement.
The silence endures only briefly.
“So…” Mihai says, his gaze wandering thoughtfully about the room before returning to Colt. “You’ve been here before?”
“I have.”
Colt gestures lazily toward the sofa.
“Funny story… you’re sitting exactly where I lost my virginity.”
An immediate and rather profound silence settles over the room.
Mihai rises with deliberate slowness, as though standing might somehow assist his understanding of what he has just heard.
“Uhm… What?!”
Colt’s expression grows unexpectedly contemplative.
“Actually…”
He points toward the dining table.
“No. That happened over there.”
His finger then returns to the sofa.
“This is where she sat on my face.”
Ryan very nearly inhales his tea. Damien closes his eyes with the unmistakable resignation of a man witnessing an entirely foreseeable catastrophe.
“…For the love of God, Colt.”
Mihai appears unwilling to dignify Colt’s statement with a response. Instead, he turns toward me with impeccable courtesy.
“Lady Amara,” he says, “is he lying?”
The question deserves proper consideration.
“No.”
The silence that follows is, somehow, even heavier than the first. Upon further reflection, however, I realize Colt has not been entirely accurate.
“He is, however, mistaken.”
Relief visibly washes over Mihai’s features.
“Oh, thank fuck.”
I incline my head ever so slightly.
“It was the armchair.”
Ryan abandons all further attempts at maintaining his composure. Even Damien’s admirable self-restraint proves insufficient.
Colt, meanwhile, appears insufferably pleased with himself. He raises a single finger in Mihai’s direction with unmistakable triumph.
“Told you.”
Their laughter gradually gives way to quieter conversation until, at last, Damien sets his empty teacup upon the table and rises.
“We should probably get going.”
The room grows noticeably quieter, as Mihai nods in agreement.
“It is getting late.” He adds.
I look from one man to the next before speaking.
“Must you?”
Five pairs of eyes settle upon me.
“If it is not an inconvenience…” I fold my hands neatly within my lap. “I should very much like to offer you my hospitality for the night.”
No one speaks.
“You have traveled a great distance, risked your lives in defense of mine, and asked for nothing in return. It would bring me considerable peace of mind knowing you were able to rest properly before continuing your journey.”
Damien exchanges a brief glance with the others.
“We don’t want to impose.”
“You could not.” The answer leaves my lips with surprising certainty.
“This house has stood empty for centuries. It possesses more rooms than I have ever had reason to occupy.”
A faint smile touches Damien’s lips.
“In that case…” He inclines his head respectfully. “…we’d be grateful to accept your invitation.”
I return the gesture, relieved by his answer.
“Excellent.”
“Told you they’d say yes.” Colt smiles beside me.
“I had not asked for your prediction.”
“No, but I was right.”
“Entirely by accident.”
“I’ll still take the victory.”
Damien sighs with quiet amusement.
“Come on. Let’s give our hosts a little peace before Colt says something else.”
“I support that plan.” Mihai immediately stands.
Ryan chuckles, Archer quietly finishes his tea, and Apex simply rises without a word.
One by one, they disappear into the corridors of the house, wishing us goodnight as they go. Before long… Only Colt and I remain beside the fire.
For centuries this house had remained untouched. Perfectly ordered. Perfectly silent. Perfectly empty. Tonight it was untidy. Tonight it was loud.
Tonight… it feels like a home.