Chapter 6 Senna
SENNA
My fingers thread through Lorenth's hair, finding it damp with sweat at the nape of his neck. The strands are softer than I expected, silky beneath my touch, and I can't help but stroke through them again. Just to feel. Just to ground myself in something real.
Because this doesn't feel real.
Nothing about tonight feels real.
We're both breathing hard, our chests pressed so close together I can feel every rise and fall of his lungs. His heart pounds against mine, the rhythm frantic and wild, matching the chaos still spinning through my head.
I've never had sex like that.
I didn't even know it could be like that.
With Darian, it's—it's not like this. It's never been like this. Quick and rough and humiliating, something he takes from me while I lie there and wait for it to be over. Something that leaves me aching in all the wrong ways, shame burning through my chest until I can barely breathe.
What I have with him is abuse with a pretty title.
But this? This was—
Gods.
My body still trembles with aftershocks, little sparks of pleasure firing through my nerves like lightning.
I can feel where Lorenth is still buried inside me, hot and thick and perfect, and some part of me wants to keep him there.
Wants to hold onto this moment for as long as I possibly can before reality crashes back in.
Because this wasn't shame. This wasn't taking.
This was giving. Receiving. Sharing.
Lorenth looked at me like I was something precious. Like he wanted to worship every inch of me. Like my pleasure mattered more than his own.
No one has ever looked at me like that.
No one has ever touched me like that.
And when I shattered in his arms—when that wave of sensation crashed over me so intensely I thought I might actually die from it—he didn't pull away. Didn't finish and leave me empty. He held me through it. Kissed me through it. Made sure I felt every second of it.
Made me feel cared for.
My chest aches with something I can't name. Something bigger than gratitude. Bigger than desire.
I came to New Solas to have one night of giving in. One night of feeling alive instead of trapped. One night where I didn't have to be Darian's obedient wife who keeps her mouth shut and her bruises hidden.
I told myself it would be enough. That I could take this one stolen moment and carry it with me when I went back to that cold house and that colder husband.
But now—now I don't know if one night will ever be enough.
Not when Lorenth's hands are still so gentle on my skin. Not when I can still taste him on my lips. Not when there's this pull between us that feels like—
Like something snapped into place when I came apart in his arms.
Something clicked.
I felt it. Deep inside me, deeper than bone or blood or breath. This tug that yanked something fundamental in my chest and locked it to him. To Lorenth.
And I swear I can still feel it now. This thread connecting us. This awareness of him that goes beyond the physical press of our bodies.
What was that?
What did we just do?
My fingers tighten in his hair, and Lorenth shifts slightly. His forehead rests against mine, his breath coming in rough pants that warm my lips, and I can feel him starting to soften inside me. Starting to pull back.
I don't want him to pull back.
I want to stay here forever. Want to live in this garden where lanterns glow soft and golden and the rest of the world doesn't exist. Where I'm not Senna Hale, blacksmith's wife, property to be used and discarded.
Where I'm just—me.
What would it be like if I didn't go back?
The thought whispers through my mind before I can stop it, dangerous and tempting. What if I just stayed here? What if I refused to get back on that zarryn and ride home to Darian's cold stare and colder hands?
What if I asked Lorenth to let me stay?
My heart clenches at the possibility. At the wild, reckless hope of it.
But then—
Dong.
The first bell rings out across the city, deep and resonant, and my whole body goes rigid.
No.
Dong.
The second bell follows, then the third, each one louder than the last. Each one hammering nails into the fantasy I was building.
Daybreak.
The bells are signaling daybreak.
Which means I've been gone all night. Which means I need to get back before—
Panic floods through me, cold and sharp, cutting through the warmth still humming beneath my skin. I push at Lorenth's chest, shoving hard enough that he stumbles back a step.
He pulls out of me and I feel the loss like a wound. Feel the emptiness where he was, the slick evidence of what we just did sliding down my thighs, and I can't think about that. Can't let myself feel that.
I need to move.
"Senna?" Lorenth's voice is rough, confused. "What's wrong?"
I don't answer. I'm already yanking my dress down, smoothing the silk back into place with shaking hands. The fabric is wrinkled, probably stained, and gods, what if Darian notices? What if he can tell just by looking at me what I've done?
"Senna, wait—"
I turn away from him, searching for the gap in the garden wall. For the path that will take me back to the square. Back to reality.
"I have to go." The words come out strangled. "I'm sorry, I have to—"
"Hold on." He catches my wrist, his grip firm but not painful. Never painful. "Just wait a second. Talk to me."
I can't look at him. If I look at him, I'll break. I'll tell him everything—about Darian and the bruises and the life I'm trapped in—and then what? What's he going to do? He's a xaphan noble and I'm a human woman who belongs to someone else.
He can't save me.
No one can save me.
"Please." I tug against his hold, desperate now. "I have to go. I shouldn't have—this was a mistake."
The word tastes like ash on my tongue. A lie so obvious I almost choke on it.
This wasn't a mistake. This was the first real thing I've felt in years. The first time I've been touched with something other than cruelty. The first time I've felt like a person instead of a possession.
But it doesn't matter.
None of it matters because the bells are still ringing and I can feel the seconds slipping away and Darian is going to be home soon and if I'm not there—
"Let me go." My voice breaks. "Please, just let me go."
Lorenth's grip loosens, though it looks like it pains him, and I rip my hand away. Stumble toward the garden entrance on legs that still feel shaky, unsteady.
"Senna, wait!"
I don't wait.
I run.
My feet hit the cobblestones and I'm sprinting through the square, past the booths that are starting to pack up, past the performers gathering their props, past couples swaying drunkenly in the pre-dawn light.
My breath comes in gasps that burn my lungs. My heart hammers so hard I think it might crack my ribs. And there's this ache in my chest—this sharp, tearing sensation that gets worse with every step I take away from the garden.
Away from Lorenth.
It feels wrong. It feels like I'm ripping something vital out of my own body and leaving it behind.
But I don't stop.
I can't stop.
I reach the edge of the forest where I left Mira's zarryn tied to a post, and my hands shake so badly I can barely work the knot loose. The creature snorts, stamping its hooves impatiently, and I finally get the rope free.
I haul myself onto its back, my dress riding up around my thighs, and kick my heels into its sides.
Ash bolts forward, his powerful legs eating up the distance, and I lean low over his neck. Let the wind whip my hair back and sting my eyes until tears stream down my face.
The city blurs around me. Streets and buildings and the slowly lightening sky all bleeding together into nothing.
I need to beat Darian home.
I need to get back before he realizes I was gone.
I need to pretend tonight never happened.
The thought makes the ache in my chest worse. Makes that strange pulling sensation—that thread I swear is still connecting me to Lorenth—stretch and strain until it feels like it might snap.
My fingers tighten in Ash's mane, and I push the animal faster.
This was always just one night.
One stolen night where I got to feel something other than fear and pain and emptiness.
I knew it was temporary. Knew I'd have to go back.
So why does it hurt so badly?
Why does it feel like I'm leaving behind something essential? Something I'll never get back?
The city walls loom ahead, and I don't slow down. The guards wave me through without question—just another human heading home after a night of festival debauchery—and then I'm out. Out into the darkness of the road that leads back to my village.
Back to Darian.
Back to my cage.
Ash's hooves pound against the packed dirt, and I let him run. Let him burn through the miles while that ache in my chest spreads. While the thread connecting me to Lorenth pulls tighter and tighter until I can barely breathe around it.
I should feel guilty.
Darian is my husband. Legally bound like the zarryn that Mira owns. I just committed adultery. Just betrayed the vows that were forced upon me—as he's done many times before.
But I don't feel guilty.
I feel alive.
And that terrifies me more than anything else.
Because how am I supposed to go back to being dead inside now that I know what living feels like?