Chapter 14 #2
“Has anyone ever told you that it’s rude to ask a Fae that?” he asks, and I can almost sense his teasing grin. “I’m 229.”
“So you’re old.”
“I’m not old.” He chuckles, low and throaty. A grin of my own tugs at the corners of my mouth. “In human years, I would be somewhere between twenty-eight and thirty. As you know, the average lifespan of the Fae is around 750 years old.”
Knowing that I’m Shadovar, I realize that I’ll be aging just as slowly. Having previously thought I was a halfling, I already came to terms that I had a much shorter life span by more than half.
Still long, just not almost a millennium long.
Ezra and Ren are spread a little more than hundred feet ahead of me in a single file line, making it almost impossible for them to hear at this distance. Even though Fae have heightened hearing, the stream we’re riding beside makes it more difficult to hone in on.
Rydian brushes my braid off my shoulder, catching a few damp strands between his fingers as if inspecting them. Fingers lightly graze my neck where my birthmark sits.
I stiffen. Perhaps he didn’t see the auburn birthmark that blends within my dark strands. Though I know it shouldn’t matter, I’m so used to hiding it for fear of King Elion that it frightens me to think anyone besides Ezra might know it’s there.
Then my skin heats as I realize how his fingers linger on my skin, and before I can think, I nervously shift my hips—rubbing against him. Gods, why did I do that?
We both freeze, breaths halting in our throats as we become aware of how little space sits between us. All sense of teasing is tossed aside, and for a moment, neither of us says a word as we ride further along the path.
The brothel suddenly pushes its way to the front of my mind despite my best effort. I may not fully trust him yet, but I find myself drawn to him, similarly to how shadows chase the light.
I can’t see him, but I pivot as if I could. His breath grazes my temple, lips hovering near the side of my face. At this point, I really wish I could view his expression.
“Are you thinking about the brothel?” He grumbles the thought, then takes a deep breath, his chest sharply rising against my back as if at war with himself.
Heat sears my face because I am thinking about it—about how I planned on going back. To explore the feel of him…
“Are you?” I ask breathlessly, facing forward and ignoring the filthy thought that just plagued me.
“Do you want the answer to that?” he asks, moving his hand so that it rests on my hip again, awfully close to the edge of my pants. “You know, I never got to thank you…”
“For what?” My lips part, sucking in a sharp breath.
His fingers graze the rim of my pants, not fully touching me but almost… teasing. As if he’s letting me know where his own thoughts currently linger. The same as mine, apparently.
“For not running… for trusting me.”
“I don’t trust you.”
He hums, words slow and delicate. “Maybe not yet… but I’d still like to thank you.”
His fingers brush my bare hip, leaving me panting as I know just how he plans on thanking me.
I shouldn’t want it, but I find myself eager to have his skin on mine, despite knowing that Ezra and Ren ride only a hundred feet ahead.
The thought might be a little insane, but there’s a sudden thrill in trying not to get caught.
“Would you like me to show you how grateful I am?” Rydian asks, my breath catching.
“It wouldn’t mean anything,” I say to him but mostly to myself because it wouldn’t. It would be no different than going to a brothel. No emotions, just… pleasure. That’s all it is.
“Of course not…” He trails off, leaning forward just as I feel the heat of him seeping into my cloak. “This is just me showing you my gratitude.” His fingers ghost the edge of my pant line—a question—leaving me to focus on remaining quiet as I bite my lip, my blood heating in anticipation.
His chest heaves. “And I’m very grateful—”
“Isa!” Ezra calls from ahead, pivoting toward me, leaving Rydian to quickly pull his hand away.
My stomach drops at the sound of Ezra’s voice, adrenaline shooting through me as I focus my attention on the path ahead. Oh gods, did he see me?
“What?” I call out, probably a little too quickly.
Shame washes over me, as I was about to let the king of Aurelia touch me and I was… enjoying it. Gods, something is seriously wrong with me.
Since it’s clear Ezra wants to talk, I compose myself before riding to meet him near the water’s edge. Rydian’s tightly tucked behind me, my pulse climbing at the sudden realization.
“Slow your breathing. He can’t see me,” Rydian says, almost annoyed, leaving me to grind my teeth.
Ezra throws me a sideways glance when I approach. “We’re doing well on time today. We should be arriving in Dryborn shortly. Ren and I wanted to keep going for a while.”
“Keep going? I thought we were stopping in Dryborn?” I ask.
If we push through, the only thing in between Dryborn and Alvonia is the Twin Valley.
“We were, but I think we’d be able to camp right before we get to the Twin Valley so we don’t get stuck in it tomorrow,” he says, scratching his shoulder.
“Are you sure? What about the horses?”
“We talked with them already. They’re okay to push through for a while.” He chuckles, handing me a canteen.
Well, there goes that thought.
I sip, nodding. “Okay. We’ll just camp outside the valley and wash up in the stream.” Reaching over, I hand him the canteen.
I reluctantly agree, if only to keep him from becoming suspicious of me questioning our stops, despite knowing that Rydian will need to step out of the Veil and rest. I slow Bjorn, letting the distance stretch between us and the others.
“Ivy can still swap with me when we pass through. She’ll just follow you out while I stay behind,” he says, yet I can’t help but feel disappointed.
But with that comes guilt.
Guilt for wanting more of his touch and enjoying the press of his body against mine, even though I know I shouldn’t. Then thoughts of my missing mother come flooding back. I know that pretty soon, I’ll be searching for answers inside the walls of Castle Alvonia.
Perhaps his touch was my own personal distraction to this newfound responsibility as a princess of Aurelia.
Something I’m suddenly not sure an assassin is worthy of.
My thoughts whirl, leaving the rest of our travels to be ridden in silence with no other touch toward me along the way.