10. Chapter 10 #2
My name was on the tip of my tongue, but giving that was unwise if she wasn’t connected to anything political. I hesitated for a fraction of a breath, but it was long enough for her eyes to narrow.
“Call me Rowan.” It was common enough to be unremarkable. I just needed to remember to answer to it even when half-exhausted.
Her magic stirred at the edges of my senses, as if calling out my falsehood. But she only nodded. “Okay, Rowan.”
Her voice somehow made it feel like I’d cheapened the exchange by touching it with dishonesty. A traitorous part of me wanted to hear her say “Owain” with an irrational urgency that had no business existing yet. I brutally shut down the thought.
The angry veska outside growled, apparently not believing me either.
“Oh, be quiet,” she grumbled. A surge of magic vibrated in the air a moment before the shutters clicked closed, cutting the light in the cabin by half.
Strong command of telekinesis.
The now-familiar sound of scrambling claws climbed down the wall on the other side of the window.
“I need to grab a few things. I’ll be right back.” She swept out of the cabin, murmuring at the prickly veska.
Alone, I allowed my defenses to lower just enough to face a few unwelcome realities. She’d saved my life, but she might be an Assembly asset…though that was looking less likely the longer I stayed awake.
Worse: My shadows had reached out for her like they were being drawn in. That had never happened before.
Worse still: A part of me had wanted to reach out for her too.
Worst of all: I was utterly at her mercy. My body was still too broken to flee. And my magic was weaker than normal.
Regardless, I needed to leave this place. Needed to let Camrick know I was alive before he threw his own life away looking for me. Needed to get a missive to Gelida and report to Berian.
My mind was playing over escape scenarios when the door creaked open.
I tensed. The little demon zipped around her skirts with every step she took, its tiny claws clicking on the floorboards. “Muffin and I came to an understanding. If he attacks you, he’s out… I doubt I can do anything about the hissing though.”
Dishonorable conduct for sure. Yet, I had to admire the creature’s loyalty.
Logic snapped back into place. Get ahold of yourself, Owain. It’s like you’re looking for excuses to like everything about her. But if I were being honest with myself, I’d have realized that I already did.
She placed an armful of food on the preparation table and wandered to the hearth. There, she threw another log on the pile then reopened the shutters and cleaned her hands in the washbasin. Baking ingredients came out next.
The flour dusting her forearms. The soft thud of dough against wood.
The smell of it mingling with all the other smells of home…
It felt like being offered a glimpse into a life I’d never be allowed to have.
A life without battles. Without political maneuvering. Without orders I didn’t want to obey.
My station meant I was mostly removed from the everyday routines of the average Larethian. This simple domesticity was surreal to me.
I cleared my throat. “Lady Mage…”
She turned to me, lilac eyes sparkling as she kneaded the dough she was working into a loaf of bread. “Let’s stick with Lunette, soldier.”
Then she smiled, and I instantly forgot everything I’d been about to say.
Every time I looked at her, her beauty seemed to grow.
Not in the polished way of court beauties, but untamed, unimaginably soft, and real.
But I’d been without company long enough that I didn’t trust my own perception of her.
Suspicion and caution shot through me once again. If this wasn’t seduction magic—which I wasn’t sure even existed—she might be using a type of mental influence on me.
I erected my mental fortifications before my next breath then immediately felt foolish, watching her dust flour off her hands.
“Lunette,” I corrected, my voice coming out lower than I’d intended, “who do you serve? Maelric? His side of the Gelidian conflict?”
“Exactly what do you think is happening here?” Her brows drew together.
She slammed the ball of dough onto the work surface with a bit more force than seemed necessary.
“Before, you asked me about the Mage Assembly and today Gelida? I’ll have you know, I’m a Larethian citizen.
” She didn’t sound certain about the last.
I started to sit fully up, and the world lurched.
Lunette stepped forward as if to steady me, dough-covered hands forgotten.
“Don’t,” I said, stupidly stubborn, every muscle going rigid. “Please.”
She stilled, eyes narrowed, assessing me back. “If you fall,” she said mildly, “that’s on you,” and under her breath, “Men.”
Gods help me, I almost laughed. As she walked away, her magic brushed the air in a gentle ripple that felt like reassurance. My shadows tried to leave my skin, tugged in her direction. I closed my eyes briefly, mastering the instinct to follow their lead.
Ridiculous. Maddening. And far too dangerous.
I was a cripple. A man who couldn’t defend himself, who couldn’t even seem to control his urges. Being seen like this, being tended to was humiliating. It was my job to be strong, to protect, to serve.
But her compassion made me want to stay. Her kindness had stripped away the armor I wore to keep the darkness contained. She made me feel…normal. And that, that I could never afford.
I managed to sit all the way up on my own—though I’d had to close my eyes from the pain. When I opened them again, she was watching with that amused calm. “Remember the house rules?”
Both sides of my lips curved despite my shame, despite everything within me screaming to be careful. “No dying. No killing.”
“Good boy,” she said primly.
I’d always wanted approval but hearing it from her was something I could become addicted to. Our eyes met then, a crackle of something electric humming between us.
“If you’re not Assembly, then where am I?” I asked. Anything to keep my mind from coming up with scenarios that would get her to praise me again. She’d said she was a Larethian citizen, so maybe I was closer to home than I’d dared hope.
“My home. Just outside a village called Selmont.” The dough was off to the side, rising now. Her hands were working to peel a potato. “Less than two miles from where the path turns to ice.”
I’d never heard of this village, so it was probably a small place…or perhaps a pretty fiction.
I had nothing but time. So I watched her, hoping to catch her out in a lie. Yet the more I did, the more I became convinced that this was simply too much effort to go through to get me to…whatever they wanted from me.
Eventually, my stomach growled, exposing just how awake I truly was. Lunette sat at the tiny table where she’d made bread earlier, holding out a piece of gristle to the veska, who obediently took it from her hands like a trained dog.
She looked over. My mental walls were up before the full force of her smile could hit me. But it didn’t help me resist the tug toward her…at all.
As she turned away, humming softly, the firelight reflecting off her hair, I realized with rising dread that the feeling in my chest had nothing to do with my fever and everything to do with a want that just kept growing.
Not for her body—though that was undeniable—but for the quiet comfort she represented, and the thrilling yet terrifying thought that she might let me have more of it.