Chapter 18
eighteen
His foot tapped briskly on the pressed ground and matched the thrumming of my heart.
Tap, tap, tap.
Beat, beat, beat.
“Where have you been?” Every word was clipped, imbued with fury. His eyes matched with the same cold, calculating stare.
“I was out for a walk—”
“I’ve been waiting here all night. I searched every path through the forest. Why are you lying?”
“If I told you, you wouldn’t have cared,” I snapped.
“You could have died! Of course I care. What, you wish me to serve you up on a platter to the forest?”
“I wasn’t in the forest.”
He inched closer. “I know that!”
My gut screamed, but I moved closer. “If you know, then why interrogate me?”
He shifted and anger blazed in his eyes. “Because I’d like you to tell me for yourself," he spat. “I’d like you to be honest with me for once.”
“Why the hell does it matter to you?” My voice shook. “I told you I was ill.”
“Because I—” he stopped and gritted his teeth.
I thought if I didn’t step away he might wring my neck and bring about my death prematurely.
“The indisposed don’t go sneaking about in a wood that would skin and eat them alive.
Have it your way. Sneak out, return. But don’t visit the stables again at night, or I will drag you back. ”
What color remained on my face quickly drained away. “How did you—”
“Those creatures are deadly and dangerous. You are not to be around them without me. Stay away.”
“You wouldn’t take me, and besides, I thought they were messengers of the gods,” I said, mocking his tone.
“Who told you the gods were benevolent?” He went rigid as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the cottage. I tried to fight, but it was no use. He shoved me into the entryway.
Something swirled on his face I couldn’t read as he loomed in the light like a deadly beast. “You. Must. Rest.” His chest rose and fell with every word.
“If you’re going to kill me, go ahead. I’m tired of this game with you. The back and forth and will he, won’t he. Get it over with already.”
He huffed and mist billowed angrily from his nose. “Don’t you understand? Have you not a modicum of sense in your head?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t so much as dare lay a finger on you. Why do you think this is so terribly tragic for me?” After the last word, he slammed the door.
“You idiot, insolent princess,” he screamed through the closed threshold. “Spoiled by the walls of a castle. Why can’t you see the godsforsaken danger across that damned river!”
Not the dragons. Across the river.
I fought bitterly against the burn of tears, refusing to let them so much as touch my cheeks. I wouldn’t cry over this man—not now, not ever.
I didn’t care about him. I cared deeply about not dying.
I wanted to argue further, but I didn’t have the strength to do so. I hated he was correct. I despised that I needed rest. I’d make sense of his veiled threats later, when I wasn’t on the verge of swooning.
After a few deep breaths, I dragged myself to the bed and collapsed against the downy mattress. But the quilt felt rougher than I’d remembered and scraped against my skin. It dug into something deeper than my flesh, and as I drifted in and out of a dreamless sleep, those sapphire eyes haunted me.
That, and his soft touch. Even when he dragged me through the snow, he didn’t leave bruises or so much as a mark. There was not a single unkindness about his touch.
Why couldn’t it be crueler? Why couldn’t his touch burn and seethe?
And why couldn’t those goddamn sapphire eyes stop following me?
I hate him, I reminded myself. I had to.
In the darkest hour, all I could do was think.
Think. Think. Think.
About how close death was, approaching me with its icy tendrils, cold chills, and relentless ache.
Sleep was hard won, filled with frequent stops where I shot up in bed, gasping.
By the time I regained enough energy, moonlight shone across the room, and a deep throbbing bloomed across my temples.
The ringing in my ears restarted, and when I dared to look at the pillowcase, crimson coated it.
My body was melting before my eyes, and every minute life slipped further away.
I’d been sickening for weeks, trying to tell Aelen that I was dying, and he never once listened.
In fact, he only got me further from my goal of bonding with Mourn, to defeat my father, and end the pact.
As the night closed in, the memories of each time he got in my way and tried to convince me to stop fell on my mind like a dark cloud.
Where had listening to him gotten me? Thrashing about in my sick, wondering when death would take me.
I’m dying.
And if I didn’t do something right now, this would be my end. I had no choice but to kill my father now. It didn’t matter I wasn’t prepared or that Mourn and I had hardly bonded. Nothing mattered except living.
I wrenched myself to my feet and shuffled forward, nearly losing my footing.
The world swayed, but I didn’t collapse to the unforgiving boards, and that was enough.
I didn’t bother to call for Aelen. He’d brush me off like he had a thousand times, tell me you’re trading a slow death for a quick one. Or worse—he’d actively stop me.
I ignored the knowledge that never getting to say goodbye burned across my chest. It ached like a thousand pinpricks. He didn’t deserve my goodbye—so why did I want to say it so badly?
The drab colors of death painted the room. I’d slept altogether too long and needed to hurry as my lantern was lying in a stall. Now I’d have to travel through the forest alone and lightness.
The shadows slid along the walls, shivering angrily and following me as I passed through the rooms. First, I needed to dress, so I grabbed my enchanted cloak, now thrown in a pile by the door.
Briefly, I toyed with taking the blade before tucking it beneath my belt. I didn’t need it for Mourn, but if Aelen decided to make an untimely appearance, I might. Yet the thought of shoving a blade through him filled me with more dread than my impending death.
I sucked in air in preparation and turned the doorknob. Except it didn’t turn. I jingled it a bit, and then yanked, but it never gave way.
That bastard locked me in here.
I hate him.
No reminder necessary this time. No, I despised that I’phri.
When I get out of here, I’m going to wipe that stupid goddamn smirk I just know is sitting on his face.
When I got out of here—but how? There was a small window at the back, but the sturdily affixed pane had no give.
I wouldn’t be crawling out of that anytime soon.
I could break the glass, but that would echo across the trees and likely alert Aelen.
After all, an eternity ago, he said I merely needed to stand in the doorway and shout for him. A single word would be enough to rouse him, and if he could hear me call, he’d hear glass shattering.
But I’d never been brave enough to, or so much as desired calling him. Perhaps that would get his attention and he’d come unlock the door, but how would that work? Run past? I had no illusion of being able to outrun his lengthy strides, his damned legs came up to my waist.
I can’t believe I let my lips touch him. Stupid, stupid Lorelana.
That only left creating a distraction. But Aelen wasn’t the easily distracted type. I’d once held a guard’s attention with my exposed upper thigh and shoved him into a room, but Aelen wouldn’t fall for that. We had kissed, but it was so brief—intoxicating, but mostly brief.
My gut lurched, and my temples throbbed harder, like an icepick stabbed through them. I couldn’t wait any longer.
Aelen didn’t seem like he could be seduced, but I’d run out of options. One way or another, I’d be getting out of here.
I’d practiced six times. Call for him, invite him in, and then slam the door.
It couldn’t be simpler. Yet my hands shook as I loomed by the threshold.
When I stepped closer, the long shadows shuddered; they’d never stopped following me through the house.
I wished I could practice more, but my strength waned. I needed to do this now.
I pressed myself to the door.
“Aelen.” My voice was a husky whisper. When nothing stirred, I tried again. “Aelen.” At once, the shadows swam, darting to the corners to leave no remnants behind.
Wind whistled behind the thin wooden board, but I swore there was… crunching.
It suddenly ceased right behind the door, and the hair on my arms rushed to a stand, matching my nape.
“Aelen?”
The lock rolled. When it opened, I expected the scowl painted across his features. Yet his tone was devoid of spite.
“What did you need?” My heart skipped a beat—where was the anger he teemed with yesterday?
“I—just wished to see you,” I lied, and took a step closer. He kept the key clutched in his hand and hid it behind his back. I tucked that knowledge behind my featureless smile, one I forced to veil the welling pain.
He stepped closer. “Are you unwell?”
“No, not at all.” A foul lie. I bit my tongue so bile wouldn’t spill across our feet.
I reached out a hand and stroked it along his cheek. He sucked in a breath and grabbed my wrist but his movement was laced with hesitation. He quickly released it and laid it on my forehead. “Have you developed a fever?”
I bit my cheek to not grit my teeth. Why did he care? He knew I was dying and actively prevented me from saving my life time, and time again. What did it matter if I was coming down with something?
But the skepticism grew in his eyes, and the seconds were ticking away. This isn’t going to work.
“You kissed me twice before,” I breathed. “Why don’t you do it again?” My voice was low, and I despised the desperation that dripped from it. It was far too natural.
After all, I didn’t want him to kiss me… did I?
His eyes widened, and he said nothing. Instead, his gaze swept across my face searching for a single betrayal, but I gave him nothing.
He locked me in a room. I can’t forget that.