Chapter Thirty-One
Thirty-One
Right Desires
The hooves of Aoife’s horse were all but silent in the soft, wet earth.
It had rained recently, which meant they could move through these desolate forests with even less risk of being heard.
They had been riding for nearly a day, and had several more to go before they were anywhere near the Emperor’s City.
Considering they hadn’t run into anyone yet, there was a sense of hope.
A sense of possibility that this could work.
Why did Aoife feel so sick?
Shadach was up ahead on his horse, talking to Kesra.
He laughed at something Kesra said and Aoife’s stomach flipped.
Anyone could see they were better matched.
Shadach’s mother seemed to love her and Aoife bet Kesra’s mother adored Shadach.
A far cry from how Mum would react to meeting Shadach.
The disappointment. The judgement. Mum would have no qualms with making all of it known.
Do you think we should be together? Shadach had asked her. He had asked it as if that question mattered. She certainly wanted them to be together, but that was the problem, wasn’t it?
Until now, she had been hopelessly caught up in the beauty and the romance and the raw passion of him, of Shadach, of her tattooed sex-god …
but things were getting real now. Life was more dangerous than it had ever been.
She was possibly careening towards a life of royalty in a kingdom she’d only been in a handful of weeks with a man she’d known for just as short a time.
Perhaps, her heart screamed that none of that mattered. Perhaps, she thought what was best for her life was to do everything, to overcome anything, for love. But who was she to think she knew best? She never had before. Why should now be different?
“We haven’t had much chance to talk.”
The sound of Kesra’s voice next to Aoife was like a needle jabbing into her arm. Aoife swallowed the proverbial vomit in her throat before smiling.
“No, we haven’t. It’s a shame,” Aoife said.
Kesra smiled, her lips cruel and calculating. “That’s what I was just thinking.”
In no world did Kesra think it was a shame and neither did Aoife. Was Kesra like Shadach? Could she see the creation of Shadows?
“Pity you don’t speak Halcin,” Kesra said. “If you did, you could be more involved in the strategy sessions.”
“I’m learning,” Aoife said. The quickness of her tone was clearly defensive and she hated it. Also, she was barely learning. She’d been a little too busy surviving.
“Oh, that’s sweet,” Kesra laughed. “But Halcin is incredibly difficult. It’s not really something you can learn at your age.”
At my age? They were undoubtedly the same age.
Aoife tightened her grip on the reins instead of on Kesra’s throat.
“Shadach says you’re an artist,” Kesra said.
Aoife winced in her heart. Kesra had said “artist” as if it were a joke.
“I like to create beautiful things,” Aoife said, “in my spare time. It’s not the only thing I do.”
“How nice.” Kesra patted her horse’s neck and Aoife wondered if that was instead of punching her. “Well, after Hallus and I get Shadach to the Emperor’s City, maybe you can tell me about it.”
With that, Kesra kicked her horse into a slow trot and caught up with Hallus. Aoife struggled to breathe. After Hallus and I. As if Aoife didn’t matter. As if she was dead weight.
Aoife gripped the reins tighter, but loosened her grip when she saw Shadach slowing down so he could fall in beside her.
Her heart skipped at him being so close.
As if she hadn’t been with him this intimately and then some a hundred times over.
Still, he made her weak. Made her want nothing more than to lie in his arms for the rest of her days.
“I trust Kesra was friendly and charitable?” Shadach said. It took Aoife a minute to catch the wry tone in his voice.
“But of course,” Aoife said in an overtly dramatic voice. “She wanted to make sure I was feeling like a part of the team.”
Shadach laughed and Aoife’s whole body relaxed.
“Sounds like Kesra,” he said.
“Doesn’t it just?”
They laughed together and Shadach rode up right beside her. He took one of her hands off the reins, holding it tightly in his as they rode along. Aoife squeezed his hand, her fingers lacing through his.
This. This was what she wanted. The laughter. The easiness. The everything. Aoife glanced at Kesra who was glancing back at them. Secrets and all, Aoife wanted him.
She never wanted the right things.
~*~
The air was heavy with memories. Of a past long gone but not forgotten.
The Shadows were a shade darker and just a touch more menacing.
This place they hid in, it was one of the underground shelters where Halcin had taken refuge once upon a time.
The shelter could not be found on any traditional maps and, hopefully, was not on Aristen’s radar.
But there was a heaviness here. A desperation.
As if the Halcin who’d hidden in this place all those years ago were telling Aoife that one’s fate could never be escaped. Not truly.
There was nowhere deep enough to hide.
Aoife sat in the corner, a floor of dust and earth beneath her feet, listening to a flurry of Halcin as Kesra, Hallus, and Shadach seemed to fight about something.
Despite her crash course in Halcin with Petra, she was still out of the loop more often than not nowadays.
Another indication that Shadach’s mother had been right.
Aoife did not belong here.
Being in the underground now, Aoife remembered her and Shadach’s kiss beneath the Temple of Lust when they’d been hiding from Aristen’s guards. Everything had felt simpler then.
Kesra cast a glance at Aoife and Aoife looked away before Kesra’s smirk grew too big.
Twenty or so minutes later, the fight seemed to be over, with Kesra apparently winning and Hallus the sore loser.
Aoife thought Shadach would start a new conversation with Kesra.
More plans, more talking. But instead, he came and sat next to her.
Her heart swelled. Then ached. All of her doubts and fears, all of the voices in her head that were not her own were suffocating her.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he whispered in her ear.
Yes. Anywhere with you. “Is it safe?” Aoife dug the heel of her shoe into the dirt.
“There’s no towns or roads for miles. If anyone sees us it can only be the will of the God.”
Aoife tried to restrain the relief in her voice as she said, “Let’s do it.”
Taking his hand, Aoife followed him through a hole in the wall that was disguised behind a dilapidated shelving unit. Which Aoife thought was strange considering the whole room was secret. Why disguise the way out? Maybe there had been no such thing as being too careful.
The tunnel leading to the forest outside was tight, but Aoife breathed through the claustrophobia and after roughly fifteen minutes of crawling, they emerged into the fresh night air. Blood red fireflies dotted the night as dark trees loomed overhead. And then there were the Shadows.
Always, the Shadows.
Holding her hand, Shadach took her a short ways through the trees.
He seemed to know where he was going, so she didn’t ask.
Aoife stopped short. Oh my. She hadn’t seen that when they’d come in.
How hadn’t she seen that? Or had they come from a different direction?
The gentle sound of rushing water lulled the night into a sense of peace.
Of safety. Only a few steps to the right was a small waterfall, sparkling red in the deep darkness.
Fireflies swam in the water, making it glow as steam wafted up, coating the crisp air in a thin mist.
“You like it?” Shadach sounded pleased.
“It’s gorgeous.” She stepped closer. “It would make a beautiful mural.” Though she feared she could never capture its true beauty. That was the challenge of the artist.
“It’s here each night. You’ll have plenty of time when this is over,” he said.
It was there, staring into his eyes of darkness and hope, hearing him talk about their future, their life beyond just trying to stay alive that Aoife felt herself break.
He was the wrong thing to want. And oh, how desperately she wanted him.
The only time before she’d wanted anything this much was that silly art competition as a child.
Then, she had ignored everyone. She had insisted on listening to her own inner voice.
That had ended in disaster. Throughout the rest of her life, she had seen again and again that her own voice was not sufficient.
That her own desires would lead her to ruin.
She’d wanted to do ballet as a child, but Mum had made her do karate, instead.
The karate had ended up being far more useful, especially lately with so many people trying to kill her.
She’d wanted to do something in the arts for college, but the O’Donoghue expectation had been that she’d go into STEM.
As a consequence, she’d been able to pay the exorbitant Dublin rents while putting a little money away for retirement and a future down payment on a house.
Meanwhile, her friends from secondary school were still living at home with no savings and no future.
And yes, Aoife had given in to a bit of whimsy as of late.
A bit of art, a bit of desire, and that had been a good thing.
It had been a beautiful thing. But art was just a hobby.
Something nice she did when people weren’t imminently trying to kill her.
A little hobby didn’t matter. This was her life.
Her future. Was she really going to leave her world, her family, everything she’d ever known behind because she wanted Shadach?
Her heart screamed yes! The rest of her screamed that Shadach would end up as just another foolish desire.
Another teapot shattered in the backyard.