Chapter 27
VIVIENNE
It’s been two days since my courses finally ended, thank the gods. Auren says we only have a few more days of travel left, and I’m eager to reach our destination. Although I’m not sure what his home will be like, I do know for certain it has a real bed, at least four walls, and a roof.
I can hardly wait to sleep on a mattress again and take a long hot bath. For now, I’m thankful, at least, for the river nearby. It feels lovely to be clean after a long day of travel.
Sitting before the fire, I wring my hair to get the last of the moisture from the long strands and then take a seat on a fallen log while I wait for Auren to return from bathing in the river as well.
Vaelen has gone off to hunt, but Auren asked him to remain close to camp, so I’m sure he’s not very far from here.
When Auren returns from the river, he’s dressed in only his soft knit pants. Before I can stop myself, my gaze travels over his broad shoulders, the thick cords of muscle that wrap around his arms and the hard planes of his chest as he pulls a fresh tunic over his head.
A cool breeze blows through the woods and I shiver slightly. Auren notices immediately and drapes his heavy cloak around my shoulders, wrapping me up in warmth and his delicious masculine scent.
Just that extra bit of care he gives me makes something tighten in my chest.
Auren crouches beside the fire, feeding it more wood, his sharp features highlighted in the flickering firelight. "Is that better?"
I nod, but the warmth settling inside me has nothing to do with the flames. "Thank you."
His lips twitch. "I live only to serve, my beautiful wife."
I stop short of rolling my eyes, and arch a teasing brow. "Well, if that’s true, then perhaps we can find an inn tomorrow so I won’t have to sleep on the hard ground like a barbarian.”
His laughter is a low rumble of amusement that makes heat curl low in my belly.
I feign a scowl. "It seems my suffering brings you joy."
He flashes a teasing grin. “Immeasurable joy.”
I’m unsettled by how much I enjoy this easy back-and-forth between us… the way he takes my sharp edges and softens them with nothing but his handsome smile and his voice. And even though I enjoy my independence, I must admit that I like when he takes care of me.
A soft sigh escapes me as I study his face. I don’t know when it happened… when noticing him stopped being something I resisted and has now become something I cannot seem to stop.
“I’ll set up the tent,” he says.
“I can help,” I offer. He’s done so much for me over the past few days. I want to do something for him.
Auren glances up at me, something unreadable in his gaze. “You could. But you’re still shivering.” His insufferable smirk returns. “And like any good husband, it is my honor to care for my lovely wife.”
I mock glare at him, fighting back a smile as he winks and then rises to his feet. I watch as he sets up our tent, studying his aristocratic nose and chin, the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his dark hair falls across his forehead, and his piercing blue eyes.
I shouldn’t be staring, but I can’t help it.
Last night, I woke, wrapped in his arms, his breath steady and warm against my temple. I tried to convince myself to pull away, but instead I allowed myself to melt into him… to let myself pretend, just for a little while, that this is permanent between us.
I still have a few weeks left to decide if I’ll stay… if I’ll choose him. I’m ashamed to admit that the choice might be easier if he were a prince or a high lord. But he’s a soldier, and I’m not sure what sort of life that might be.
A sharp pull moves through me as I think of how he makes me feel so safe and wanted, even in sleep. And I want that again, tonight. But I’m not sure how to ask.
Maybe I won’t. Perhaps I can simply pretend to be asleep, let myself roll against him, and allow him to pull me close. Just for warmth. That’s all.
He grabs the blankets and furs from our satchel, and disappears into the tent to arrange our bedding, while I wait by the fire.
A strange shimmer in the forest mist catches the corner of my eye, but it’s gone when I turn toward it. Unease moves through me as the memory of my nightmare… of those golden eyes, flickers at the edge of my mind, watching and waiting. I shake my head, forcing the terrifying images away.
The glistening light reappears, barely visible in the shadows. It brightens, then slowly morphs into a pale green glow hovering just beyond the reach of the fire. I’ve never seen a pixie before, and I wonder if that’s what it is.
It’s so beautiful, floating between the trees. I’m mesmerized, unable to take my eyes off of it. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I rise from my seat. Auren’s cloak slides from my shoulders, falling to the ground, as I walk toward the light.
It drifts back and forth, then hovers as if waiting. Despite my attempts to look away, I cannot, and my feet move without thinking as I follow it into the woods. The forest parts for me, branches brushing my sleeves as though guiding me to the dancing green light up ahead.
I watch in wonder as it spins slowly, swaying through the mist and leading me deeper into the woods.
Worry prickles the back of my mind. I should turn around… call out to Auren, but I can’t seem to form the words. It’s as if something is compelling me, forcing me to move silently toward it. I struggle to tear my gaze from the wisp, but then it glows even brighter, and all my concerns fall away.
Up ahead, there’s a clearing, with a small cottage in the center. Golden light spills from its windows, warm and inviting. The delicious scent of freshly baked bread fills the air, along with a hint of something sweet and tangy. Something familiar that I cannot quite place.
As I approach, the cottage door opens. Standing on the threshold, I gaze inside. A wooden table sits near a crackling hearth, and my breath catches as I realize this is the kitchen of our summer home.
Father built it for my mother. We used to come here every year when she was still alive.
A figure appears in the doorway. An old woman with short, silver hair and a friendly smile. “Oh, my dear, you must be exhausted. Come inside and warm yourself by the fire. I’ve just finished baking.”
She holds up a plate with a lemon cake. Tears sting my eyes as the scent hits my nose. It smells just like my mother’s recipe. My chest tightens as memories flood my mind of a kitchen warmed by laughter, and lovely summer days full of love and joy.
Without thinking, I step forward. As soon as I cross the threshold, the warmth vanishes. The air turns damp, foul with the scent of mold and decay. The fire on the hearth flickers with green flames as the walls sag inward, the blackened beams crawling with shadows.
“This way, my dear,” the old woman smiles. “Just a few more steps.”
Worry snakes down my spine. I want to run from this place and never look back, but my feet keep walking forward, drawn by some inexplicable force.
“I—I really should leave,” I struggle to keep my voice even. “My husband is waiting for me.”
“It’s alright, dear.” The old woman’s smile stretches and grows. Horror fills me as her jaw unhinges impossibly wide, splitting her face open to reveal two rows of thin, needle-like teeth. “I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
Panic constricts my chest as her eyes turn black and her fingers lengthen into dagger-sharp talons. She isn’t an old woman, she’s a terrifying monster.
The cottage groans as the floor shifts beneath my feet. I try to step back, but my legs won’t obey. I scream, but no sound comes out, and tears slip down my cheeks as cold realization seeps into my bones—I cannot break free.
“Oh, my dear,” she cackles, amused by my terror, “even if you call out, he won’t get here in time. He probably doesn’t even realize you’re gone.”
She’s wrong. Auren cares for me, and I’m sure he knows I’m missing by now. He’ll be here any second.
Anger rises in my chest as her mouth curves into a sinister smile. Gritting my teeth, I fight against the dark spell binding my voice and call out his name. “Auren!”