14. Evanee #2
There were even fewer than I thought once I realized the first door on our left wasn’t a room at all, but a bathing chamber—a cramped space with a working tub, a stained but functioning toilet, and a tiny mirror clouded from age.
I caught a glimpse of myself and stiffened.
It wasn’t the haggard mess that gave me pause—the frizzed blonde hair, the dirt ground into my skin, or even the dark bags under my eyes from nights spent half awake.
It was the flash of silver that cut across the glass and vanished in a heartbeat.
I blinked once. Twice. Had I imagined it? Thoughts of that stranger had finally faded, yet my mind continued to dredge him up, as if I’m not supposed to forget the odd encounter.
Aiden leaned over my shoulder, startling me from my stupor, and studied the tiny chamber.
“If we need to conserve water—”
“What?” Embarrassment burned hotter than anger as heat licked my cheeks.
One dark brow arched as he looked down at me.
“I was going to suggest that Dimitri and Malachai share. Honestly, I think the lack of sleep is affecting how your mind processes things,” he murmured as he pulled back. I shot daggers at the back of his head for the attempt at a joke.
The rooms were across the hall from one another.
Aiden and I squeezed into the room on the right.
It was very small with one bed in the center, a small, patchy armchair in the corner next to the door, and an old oil lamp on a tiny, scratched nightstand.
Gray skies were visible in the small skylight overhead.
Despite the worn furniture, the room held the aroma of citrus and cinnamon.
Charming—if I wasn’t forced to share it with him.
“Look, I know none of this is ideal, but we all need a break from riding.” Aiden offered as he set the bag at the foot of the bed.
“Whatever. Out of curiosity, if our room is this small, what exactly are Dimitri and Malachai supposed to do?” I asked. They were huge males. I doubted they could both squeeze into the room at all.
Aiden chuckled. “Dimitri needs to shift tonight. He gets a little… antsy if he doesn’t shift often.
” He shifted with those men. “I sometimes forget you have no memory of anything,” he muttered, more to himself as his eyes roamed over me.
“Werewolves have to shift regularly. If not, the wolf will take over, making them shift against their will. Happens often to younger wolves. It’d be embarrassing for someone like him. Similar to Gargoyles.”
“The Gargoyles?” Now my interest was piqued.
He froze, as if realizing he'd mentioned the forbidden species, yet again. “Yeah…” he tapered off chewing on his lip. “They were similar in their need to shift. Anyway, he’ll have to go several miles east so he doesn’t attract any attention.
Knowing him, he’ll hunt and stay out for the night as a wolf.
” He finished as he lowered himself into the armchair.
Disappointment flared, but I didn’t push my favorite subject further.
“But it’ll be freezing,” I exclaimed.
“Trust me, he’ll be fine. Wolves run hot. The Werewolves initially claimed the territory north of Castle Lawryn because of the mountains—“
“Mountains? What kind of mountains?” I interrupted, my dreams barging to the forefront of my mind.
Aiden contemplated a moment, as if weighing his answer.
“Yes, mountains. Mostly rock and ice. Why do you ask?”
“I—I don’t know,” I stammered as I plopped down on the bed, mind racing. “I’ve seen the same mountains over and over in my dreams.”
“Can you tell me about them? Your dreams?”
The sincerity in his tone and expression made me feel like I could tell him anything.
That I could share my worst, darkest secret, and he'd still look at me like he did in this moment. Then again, he could be the spider with his web hidden in plain sight, and I refused to fly into it. He’d shown me a small piece of himself earlier, and while it tugged at that deeper string connected to my heart, what if I only saw what I wanted to see?
“I don’t know. It’s been the same dream, just different scenarios, I guess.
The region is always vast green…” I paused, rummaging through the details.
“There’s always the mountains, but I’ve never been close enough in my dreams to make out details.
Their snow-capped, and there’s the sound of a waterfall… but it’s just a dream.” I shrugged.
“When did they start?” His knee brushed against mine as he leaned forward.
“I guess around a year after Cressida took my memories. I’ve always wondered if my dreams were small glimpses of my past because the day she took them, I overheard her tell Queen Valentina that she wasn’t sure how well my memories could be held due to my age.”
“Have you… ever seen someone you know or recognize in your dreams?”
“No, but there are other beings. They seem to be celebrating or something.” Aiden looked away for a moment.
“Oddly enough, I’ve seen moonflowers in them.
I recognized them at Thaddeus’s. I know it sounds crazy, but in my dream, I knew exactly what they were.
” His head snapped back to me, eyes dark.
I swallowed thickly as I pressed on. “Do you think I’m dreaming of another part of the Eastern Realm? Or maybe… another realm entirely?”
Risky. So damn risky sharing these things with him. Earlier warnings battled against how comfortable and safe he made me feel.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m not sure. I was told your family was from the Queen’s lands in the south. But that’s all.”
“Then why does the King want me?” My voice cracked. I’d been shoving my worry deep down—burying it—focusing on my conflicting feelings with Aiden instead.
He took a deep breath, leaning away from me. “The King trades slaves around all the time. It’s not out of the ordinary for him to request a transfer from the Queen.”
“But it’s customary to go through all of this to transport them?” I deadpanned.
The side of his mouth curved, that stupid dimple showing. “I may have taken things a step further.”
“To use me as bait,” I accused.
His eyes flashed, that otherworldly light illuminating them briefly.
“To keep you safe.”
My throat dried beneath his intense gaze and I was forced to look away.
“I had kind of hoped there was something special about me,” I mused, attempting to get his attention away from the way my body reacted—my racing heart, flushed skin.
“Dimitri already told me I wasn’t a Werewolf.
I thought maybe that’s why my memories had been taken—because I was something else entirely. Guess not,” I hurried on.
Amusement flickered across his face when I dared a peek.
“You asked Dimitri if you were a Werewolf?” A laugh escaped past his lips as he stood, fangs flashing. I ground my teeth as my brows drew together.
“It’s not funny,” I growled.
A bang on the door, then Malachai’s deep voice sounded, “Dimitri is about to head out. We need to meet with him downstairs before he leaves.”
Before Aiden could say anything more, or ensnare me in his endless blue gaze, I hurried to the door, where Malachai’s frame blocked the hall. I briefly met his golden stare before I squeezed past him and made it down to the dining area.
Dimitri was back at the bar, whispering into Marigold’s ear. The act was extremely sensual as his hand caressed her arm, a giggle escaping her at whatever he whispered, pushing her breasts up higher as she leaned toward him.
I glowered as I shoved into a chair and stared out the fogged window.
I pulled one sleeve back, running my thumb over the ink.
Shackles. I should be angry. I should be resentful.
I should be disgusted by any touch, flirtation, or smile.
Instead, those actions left me craving the very thing I should hate.
Him.