Chapter 55 The Cottage #3
A shiver woke her in the morning as dawn broke.
She was on her side, her back nestled against Asterious, whose arms were wrapped around her as if he feared something would snatch her away in the night.
She ducked deeper into the covers, wondering if what she remembered of last night had really happened, though their naked bodies pressed together like this was confirmation enough, and slight soreness between her legs made it all the more undeniable.
“Good morning.” The rumble of Asterious’ voice tickled the back of her neck. She rolled over to face him.
“Good morning.” What else could she say?
What could she possibly say to him after spending a night in the Shadow Woods entangled with him like nothing else mattered?
After giving herself to him completely, all while his guard waited at the edge of the forest and his sister lurked within it, seeking its power for herself?
“How did you sleep?”
“Better than I have in a long time.” He smiled, a lock of unruly hair sweeping across his forehead. “Far better than spending the night alone in chains, never knowing what emotions would be unleashed in my nightmares.”
“You don’t have to fear anymore,” Caramyn whispered. “You were strong enough. You are strong enough.”
“Only because of you, Cara.”
She smirked softly. “Then I suppose you’ll have to make sure you keep your eyes on me.”
The prince’s mouth curved into a smile. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, relaxed and free.
“There’s a stream where we can wash up nearby before we set out.” Caramyn sat up, despite every fiber of her yearning to stay in the warm, safe bed. But the intruder was still out there. And the Shadows were gathering. She could feel it. “Hopefully Nocthar has found something…anything.”
The prince pushed himself upright, the covers sliding off him and revealing his perfectly muscular body. “Hopefully.”
He stood and began to redress, and Caramyn looked at the shreds of her torn shirt and pants on the floor. Turning to her small wooden wardrobe by the bed, she rummaged through her clothing to find something new to wear.
“Sorry about that.” Asterious muttered as he fastened his pants together. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“As you shouldn’t have been. Because instead you were feeling.” Caramyn shrugged with a playful curve in the corner of her mouth as she selected a black long-sleeve tunic. “I’d rather my clothing ripped to pieces than me.”
The prince grunted, blinking those dark lashes as she left him with those words, and she proceeded to finish getting dressed.
As she poked her head through the shirt collar, Asterious caught her eye, still sitting on the edge of the bed.
Still staring at the floor as though his thoughts were holding him hostage.
She turned away, looking toward the small hearth where her kettle still hung. “I may have some oats and oil and whatever else that hasn’t spoiled. Hopefully enough to make something warm to eat before we brave the rest of the Woods.”
Asterious dressed in silence and then joined her at the hearth. But by the look on his face she wasn’t convinced he’d finally settled whatever he warred with inside himself. It wasn’t the time to ask him, but she only hoped he wasn’t silently regretting everything—regretting her.
She shuffled to her herb shelf, just as the thought occurred to her, and swiped a jar of Moon thistle and Erri leaves—an effective contraceptive if taken within a day after the act. Regretful or not, the last thing she wanted to even consider was the possibility of it.
She turned around, and the look on Asterious’ face as he stared at the burning kettle turned sour. “I can’t believe I was so weak to give in. Last night, I knew better. I should’ve been stronger. If I’d have hurt you—”
“But you didn’t.” Caramyn set down the bowl she was carrying and strode over, placing her hands on his shoulders where he sat by the fire. “Don’t you see? That was anything but weakness. It’s not weakness to feel.”
Asterious looked up through locks of disarrayed hair, studying her eyes before speaking.
“But what I feel,” he paused, “is the fear that maybe this isn’t real.
You said it yourself—the pull we feel toward each other—it could just be from Zera’s magic.
What if we were just under the influence of some connection we don’t understand.
How can we even know what we truly feel for each other if magic is involved?
What if it has manipulated us like it manipulates everything? ”
“Damn the Shattered gods, Asterious. What are you saying?” Caramyn spat out the words in utter disbelief. “Did last night mean nothing to you? Are you really wanting to throw this away because you think it’s just a trick of magic?
“I’m only saying that for now, until we know how this ends, we must deny ourselves any further affection. We should stay focused on the task at hand, and nothing more.”
Something seethed inside of Caramyn. “Deny. Punish. That’s what you’ve always done to yourself,” she said.
“And that’s why you’ve begun to lose control.
Stuffing it down only works for so long, until it finds a way out.
Fear. Pain. Love. You can’t push any of that down until it goes away.
You can’t ignore it. Eventually it will eat you alive.
Trying to fight it is only making you weaker.
To overcome a beast that preys on fear and pain, show it you’re not afraid to feel anymore.
Show it that you are not afraid to love and be loved, damn it. ”
“I am not meant to love you or anyone, Caramyn. You will never be safe with me if I can’t rid myself of this curse.
I may not lose myself with you. I may learn to control my fears and pain and whatever else.
But sooner or later, I will have to kill again.
And I would gladly kill a thousand men to protect you.
But the moment I do, I will be lost forever.
Along with my mind. And my love. And I cannot do that to you… because I love you.”
Love.
The word from his lips rattled Caramyn to her innermost being.
“Fine. Deny me. And deny yourself. But next time warn me before you plan on breaking my heart, so maybe I can make an elixir to heal it in advance.”
She ripped the kettle from the fire, refusing to give him another gaze, much less another word. And he didn’t argue either, which made it hurt all the worse. But what made the pain even greater was that she knew he wasn’t wrong.
So, she would still lead him through the Woods.
She would still help him find the Blade to save the kingdom.
And she would drive his sister out, even if she had to kill her.
But she would not do it for him. She would do it for herself, and for a realm she would not see taken by misuse of her Shadows.
And after they each ate a small bowl of tasteless porridge in painful silence, they donned their cloaks and headed out into the Woods.