Chapter 16 #2
She knew his concern was only for himself since he would reap the consequences of her actions, but shame washed over her for how selfish she’d been not to think of him when she’d stood across the street, debating whether to enter the brothel.
If Doyle had taken her somewhere else, somewhere farther away, the binding spell would have activated.
With Vade not knowing where to find her, it’s possible they both could have died from the spell’s pain.
“I’ll be more conscientious of my actions in the future,” Orelia said. Regardless of how rude he was most of the time, Vade was still her responsibility. She was the one who’d trapped him with the spell, after all.
“I shouldn’t have ignored you, though,” Vade said. “I should have shown you the city.”
A strand of hair blew into her eye, and before she could move it, Vade tucked it behind her ear. His fingertips lingered on her skin and his eyes flitted to her lips.
The memory of him kissing her in the halls of the Pony came rushing back—the way his lips felt on hers, his hard body pressed against her chest, him moaning when she slid her tongue into his mouth.
Orelia found herself drifting closer. Vade leaned down like he was going to kiss her, cupping the side of her face with his hand. His rough calluses brushing her cheek sent a shiver down her body. When her lips parted at the sensational touch, he yanked his hand back like she’d burned him.
Vade put some distance between them and cleared his throat. “I’m going to look for dinner.” In a few giant strides, he was gone, the axe forgotten.
She reached up and touched her cheek where his hand had been. He could be abrasive and thorny, but there was a layer to him she had begun to peel back where something softer resided, even if he tried to keep it hidden.
As Orelia gathered her clothes that had finished drying, she wondered just how deep those layers went.
The shadows stretched long, and the orange sun dipped below the trees as Orelia readied her bedroll. She’d watched Vade start a fire enough times to try it on her own. She used the tang of her dagger, and it took twenty strikes on the flint before she got a spark.
When the kindling she’d gathered began smoking, Orelia blew on the bits of dried moss until a small flame started. “Ha! I did it!” She looked around the forest, but Vade was still out hunting. Her shoulders slumped. She wanted him to see she was capable of doing something other than screwing up.
He returned a short while later with a doe slung across his shoulders and blood dripping down his bare front, tunic and vest wrapped around his hips.
The fire made the sweat on his face and neck glisten, and his chest heaved with obvious exertion from carrying the animal.
He looked delectable in his dark leathers, his body sun-kissed and bronzed.
“Good job on the fire,” he said with genuine praise.
Her chest swelled. Orelia avoided watching him prepare the animal, and soon enough he had pieces of venison skewered and roasting over a spit.
She laid on her stomach with her face in her hands, watching Bute. He was moving better, but his hind leg still couldn’t bend all the way. He needed more space to roam than the glass jar, but if she let him out, odds are she’d lose him in the grass.
Vade settled onto his bedroll opposite her, and to Orelia’s surprise, he didn’t sharpen his knives while waiting for dinner to cook. “I didn’t think you were serious about bringing that frog along with us,” he said.
Bute croaked, and Orelia chuckled. “His leg is looking a little better, so it shouldn’t be too long before he heals.”
Vade rested an elbow on his knee and began dragging the tip of a stick through the dirt. “You really can’t help but heal broken things, can you?” The question wasn’t asked in jest, but in earnest.
Her heels tapped her backside as she swung her legs up and down, watching Bute bury himself under a section of moss. “It’s what I was meant to do.”
“You think you were meant to live for others? What about what you want?”
The question took her by surprise. “I want to help people.”
“But what do you want? For your own life? If you couldn’t heal people, what would you do?”
Her legs stopped swinging as she thought about his question.
She’d always thought the usefulness of her existence came from her ability, but she’d never actually thought about what she'd do if she couldn’t heal.
Orelia sat up and curled her legs underneath her.
“Well, I’d want a job that makes me happy.
I’d love to have a garden so I could sell what I grow at market.
That’s what I was doing with the spell when I—” She paused.
There was a glimmer of playfulness in the fae’s eyes. “When you hit me with it?”
“Sorry about that. Again . . .”
He chuckled and continued dragging his stick through the dirt.
Orelia smoothed the hem of her tunic, pondering what else she wanted. “I don’t know if selling food at market would make me enough money, but I’d enjoy it. And I’d like to find someone to spend my life with and start a family. Someone who wouldn’t mind a quiet life in Minro with me.”
Vade’s response was something between a grunt and a snort, a new sound of his that she didn’t know how to interpret.
The orange sky melted into a deep blue as the two of them watched the crackling fire, enjoying the cool breeze and quiet calm of the forest. Vade’s silence was different tonight.
He wasn’t doing anything other than watching the fire or playing with the stick.
Neither happy nor sad. Just . . .content.
“You’re nice like this, you know,” she said.
He frowned, which only made her grin.
“I just mean you’re not yelling at me or busying yourself with your knives. You’re just sitting here casually. Like we’re friends.”
Hope bloomed that there was a possibility he didn’t truly hate her for trapping him with the spell. He’d taught her how to defend herself, saved her from the Pony, and helped manage her panic from the incident with the Freebeasts. Progress. Hopefully.
“You’re not the worst company,” he said.
Orelia thought that might be the closest she’d ever get to a compliment from him and took it in stride. “How sweet of you to say.”
When Bute croaked, Vade motioned to the jar. “I can make a smaller ward for him so he can move around a bit. Must be hell to be trapped in that jar all day.”
She beamed. “He would love that.” Orelia unscrewed the lid.
Vade extended his arms toward the empty space between them away from the fire and made a ward a few feet wide and just as tall.
Being as she’d woken with plenty of bug bites over the past few days, Orelia knew insects could still penetrate the ward, giving Bute a chance to catch a live meal instead of the dead bugs she’d collected for him, most going untouched.
Though looking into the ward was blurred, she could still make out the frog’s bright red and blue coloring.
Bute crawled his way to the lid and peeked out of the jar.
With a little hop, he landed in the grass and twisted his head, looking around.
Her heart warmed at how happy he seemed as he began exploring his temporary home.
Orelia barely registered that her legs were carrying her over to Vade. She leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you.”
He stared at her with wide eyes. “What was that for?”
“Just showing my appreciation,” she said, grinning.
Vade rubbed the cheek she’d kissed him on, looking shocked. When his cheeks darkened, she tried to hide her smirk.
He didn’t hate her. Not completely, at least.
Vade cleared his throat, shifting on his bedroll. He went back to dragging his stick in the dirt, avoiding her eyes.
Orelia sat back down and watched him, transfixed by his movements. “Are those the Points?” she asked.
He paused, looking at what he’d created like he was seeing it for the first time.
She wasn’t sure if his eyes were misty or it was just the firelight playing tricks.
With a quick swipe of his hand, he made a clean slate in the dirt, tossed the stick in the fire, and rested his forearms on his knees.
“I haven’t been there in a long time,” he said, gazing at the flames.
Orelia sat cross-legged, peeling a thick blade of grass. “Why did you leave in the first place?”
His jaw clenched. “Work.”
“Was it hard to leave home?” There were times in the days they’d been traveling that she missed Minro, but mainly for its familiarity. Change was difficult when she’d never done it before, but after the spell was reversed, she’d return home to what she knew.
“That place wasn’t my home.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
Vade shifted uncomfortably and sighed. He wouldn’t look at her, but this was the first time he’d opened up about anything, so she was careful not to press too hard too fast.
“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to,” she offered.
“The Points are a place for tradition. And let’s just say, I wasn’t one for such things.”
A vague answer, but at least he was talking. Orelia kept quiet, eyes flicking to him in hopes he would continue.
Vade rotated the skewers and set them back on the spit.
She tried to wait until he offered more of his past but was unable to keep herself from asking more questions. “Was there anyone special you left behind?”
His eyes slid to hers.
Too much prying. She looked away, embarrassed to have forgotten he was young when he left. Still, he could have had someone. She didn’t like that the anticipation of his answer made her insides twist.
“I’m not like you,” he said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t dream of having a home with a sweet little wife and a gaggle of children running around. I like my peace. My solitude. I don’t need any of that other shit.”
She recoiled. “What’s so wrong with wanting that for myself?”
“It’s boring. Life out here . . .” Vade looked up at the stars.
“Not knowing what each day will bring . . .this is living. No one goes to that frozen wasteland willingly, and The Points are a place I’d be stuck in if I hadn’t left.
It’s a place where I’d be tied down to some woman with kids I didn’t give a shit about. The kind of boring life you want.”
The harshness of his answer made her no longer care about prying.
“Just because you want to be by yourself doesn’t mean you should shame me for wanting the opposite.
Being out here, seeing different cities and exploring the continent is all I ever wanted before I settled down.
I’ve only known Minro, but I love my village, and once we’re free of this spell, I’m going back and starting that life for myself.
And you don’t get to make me feel bad about that decision. ”
Vade scoffed.
As quickly as peace had settled between them, it had broken. She didn’t know why she let herself get her hopes up that they could go one day without arguing.
“You can huff and puff all you want, but at least I won’t be lonely for the rest of my life. You really want to spend all your days killing? Not knowing what city you’ll end up in each day? Never having a real home?”
He removed the skewers from over the fire and set them on a rock to cool. “That’s exactly what I want. To do what I’m good at, make a shit ton of money, see the world, and not be bothered by anyone.”
She didn’t wait for him to hand her a skewer and grabbed one. “All that money and nothing to spend it on. Why does it mean so much to you?”
He grabbed the other skewer. “Are you really asking why I care about money? It can control whether you live or die. It’s the most important thing there is.”
Orelia ripped into the meat with her teeth, the steam making her nose hot. “I’d argue that happiness and love are more important.”
“Says the poor witch . . .” he grumbled.
She scowled at him. “Live your life how you want, but you’re going to be lonely for the rest of your life. And one day that loneliness isn’t going to feel like freedom.”
Vade took a giant bite and spoke with his mouth open. “I prefer it this way.”
She couldn’t imagine traipsing all over Nivinia alone for the rest of her life. The world was wide, and she’d seen so little of it, but to roam alone forever? “Don’t you ever want to find love? Don’t you want to share your life with someone?”
He swallowed and wiped his mouth with his forearm. “Love is for soft-minded idiots.”
She shook her head. “What happened to you to make your outlook on everything so bleak? What did life do to you to make you this way?”
The wall that had come down in their earlier conversation shot straight back up as his black eyes dragged to hers. There would be no more questions. No more revealing his thoughts or feelings.
“Life turned its back on me when I needed it most.”