Chapter 14 Ellowyn
Ellowyn
My room was cold and empty, completely devoid of life.
I knew immediately, intrinsically, that Pip was no longer in my space awaiting my return.
That didn’t stop me from calling to her, hoping to find some comfort in her presence.
She was only a teenager, but seemed so much wiser; almost like she should be the adult in this situation rather than me.
“Pip?” Predictably, there was no answer.
“Pip!” I exclaimed again, my voice cracking and pitching from emotion.
I stumbled through my sitting room, barely noticing the fire burning low in the hearth, small tendrils of fire trailing lazily into the chimney.
Both my sitting room and bedroom were dark, the curtains drawn and lights turned low.
I quickly canvased my bedroom and bathroom, noting the absence of Pip in all spaces.
She said she would be here.
My heart fluttered into my throat, my mind thinking the worst.
She probably just had to leave for the night; it is late, after all. Yes, that’s it. She just returned to her quarters and I’ll see her in the morning.
I forced my heart rate to deescalate, my breathing to return to normal as I frantically grasped at Alois’ clothes, tearing them from my body. I unceremoniously threw them into a darkened corner, out of my sight and out of mind.
I could still feel the sticky residue of Alois’ cum on my inner thighs, the burning sensation from sex not yet dissipating, and had the urge to scrub my skin raw was almost too heady to overcome.
Bowing to its wishes, I quickly drew a cold bath—the heat activator devoid of any usable Fire Magic—and climbed inside.
Yelping when my foot first touched the icy water, I gritted my teeth and forced my body beneath the surface, submerging myself completely.
I took shallow gasping breaths through clenched teeth, lathering lavender goat milk soap in my shaking hands before aggressively scrubbing at every inch of my skin, attempting to erase the memory of Alois’ touch.
My hair was next, and I quickly saturated the strands and my scalp, massaging to loosen the sweat and smell that was evidence of my tryst.
What was I thinking?! By any means necessary, I scoffed.
I flopped from the tub, uncaring of either the water spilling over the side with my movement or the wet footprints I left behind as I padded to the sink to collect my linen towel.
My body might be clean, all evidence of my poor decision erased, but it clung to my mind, burrowing deep into the recesses of my brain and invading my consciousness like a parasite.
I was swept along the current of dark and insidious thoughts that threatened to drown me completely.
This is why Mother controlled my life—I’m too naive, too stupid to make my own decisions. I deserve everything that has happened and will happen because of my reckless mistakes.
Tears fell unbidden down my cheeks, but I ignored them, barely feeling the kiss of wetness in the cool air of my bedroom. Still mildly wet, I left the bathroom and found a silken nightdress lying across the bedspread.
Pip.
In my daze, I couldn’t remember if it was here when I entered my room or if it had just appeared. I furrowed my brow in frustration at my inability to recall something as basic and inadvertently important as the existence of my nightgown.
With a small scream of frustration, I ripped the towel from my body and shoved my head and arms through the respective holes of the short, silk nightdress. A soft fluttering caressed my bare legs before the sound of paper falling to the ground caught my attention.
My hair dripped against my back, saturating the nightgown nearly completely and causing it to stick to my skin, but I simply brushed a stray strand behind my ear as I bent to pick up the folded piece of paper.
The note was small, the handwriting a barely legible scratch. Even having never seen Pip’s handwriting before, I knew the note was from her.
I’m sorry. I can no longer serve you. My time here is done. May Fate guide and keep you.
The note was short, perfunctory at best, but laced with hidden meaning and insinuation. My hand went numb, and I lost my grasp on the paper, letting it flutter back to the floor. I slumped on my bed, eyes wide and unblinking, skin cold and mind drowning.
What have I done?
It was clear Pip no longer respected me, clear that she held disdain for me and my actions, so much so that she could no longer work for me.
I panted as I methodically crawled up the bed and burrowed beneath the covers. I tucked my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my freezing, shaking body, desperately trying to warm myself from the outside in.
Clenching my eyes shut, I willed myself to sleep.
Torin. Torin will help. Torin will understand.
The sky above the cracked earth of the Dreamscape was loud tonight—the colors roiled endlessly, lightning streaking between the coiling and uncoiling strands. A strange wind blew, whipping my hair about and drying it in nearly an instant.
“Torin?” I called, my voice cracking and breaking.
I saw the mountain in the distance, once majestic and proud, now rent in half as it slowly collapsed in on itself.
I did that.
It seemed that I destroyed everything I touched.
I’ll probably destroy Torin, too.
The thought had me spiraling into a new wave of panic, so much so that I choked down my next cry for him.
“Ell?” Torin’s voice was soft and comforting, a balm to my injured soul. I whirled, nightgown rippling along my thighs and hair hitting my face from the sudden movement.
There he was—Torin d’Eshu, my true betrothed and the one my heart called to.
I couldn’t admit it until now, couldn’t make sense of all my feelings that were muddled and overshadowed by the strife in Hestin.
But, without a doubt, my soul yearned for his.
In just one look from his hazel-honey gaze, I felt ripped open and raw, seen and understood, calmed and adored.
Alois never made me feel that way, even when he was inside me.
The realization hit me like the weight of a boulder, and a cracked sob escaped me, my hand flinging to cover my mouth as my shoulders caved forward, my body collapsing to the cracked ground.
Torin’s frown became a mask of surprise and worry as he sprinted from his spot near the edge of the dead wood to my side. The dirt puffed into small clouds as he slid on his knees to me, crawling the remainder of the distance between us.
The first touch of his skin on mine felt like coming home, and I wept openly as his hands caressed every part of my exposed skin that he could reach. His full lips fell into my hair and his hot breath fanned over my scalp as he whispered my name over and over again.
I came alive and fell apart under his touch.
It was torture and heaven.
And through it all, I just sobbed unintelligible words into his chest, breathing in his sunshine and spice scent with each stunted inhale. His calloused, warm palms massaged the back of my neck and upper back, pulling me fully into his chest so I straddled his muscular thighs.
“I’m here, Ell. I’m here. Give it all to me, I’ll catch you.
I’ll hold you. You are mine and I am yours, sweet girl.
” He mumbled a constant stream of comforting platitudes into my ear.
Eventually, my sobs subsided until I was simply shaking against him, my tears spent and dry against my cheeks; my eyes were swollen from the deluge of emotion, and still Torin held me, loved me.
This is what my first time should have been like, who it should have been with.
The realization had the acid in my stomach roiling and threatening to expel everywhere. The compulsion to tell him everything was overwhelming, almost like I couldn’t hold back the words even if I wanted to.
“I have to tell you something,” I said thickly and quietly into his shoulder. Torin’s movements paused for a moment before he continued stroking my hair and back.
He kissed the top of my head gently, reverently, before mumbling, “What is it?”
I took a few shaky breaths, gathering my courage, pulling strength from the warm, strong presence underneath me.
“I . . . fucked Alois. Or rather, he fucked me,” I said in a quiet rush, a sardonic laugh on the tip of my tongue.
I felt Torin’s breath catch, felt his hand jolt in my hair as his heartbeat thumped erratically. A crack of lightning split the sky, and I was certain it would rain at any moment.
“Okay,” he whispered, devoid of emotion apart from a break at the end of the word.
I frowned and pushed against his chest. Torin’s hands fell away from my back and head as I gazed into his eyes.
Maybe he doesn’t feel what I do—maybe this is just another way I’m too naive for my own good.
But in his eyes, I saw nothing but pain. Acceptance and love, but overwhelmingly pain.
“Just okay? That’s all you have to say?” I asked, disbelief and anger coating my words.
I wanted him to get angry with me—to scream and threaten me, to pull himself away. He did none of that—his eyes were soft and understanding, his hands a comforting weight on my hips as he squeezed my sides gently.
His easy acceptance and continued adoration were worse, because it seemed that no matter what I did, he would allow. Providing me with the unconditional love my soul craved.
“What else do you want me to say, Ell? You’re . . . married to him?” His voice caught on the last question as he looked at the hand pressed against his chest. I curled my long fingers inward, desperately trying to hide the evidence of my mistake.
I ducked my head in shame.
“Yes,” I whispered. “I married him.”
Torin blew out a breath, head tilted toward the sky, and we were both silent for a moment.
“I’m angry, but I have no right to be,” he finally said, and my head whipped back up to look at him. The frustration was there in the clench of his jaw, the muscle feathering from the force of his bite; it was in the hard set of his eyes and brow, in the way his fingers twitched against my hips.