Chapter 26
Reis followed Mirielle up the tilted stairs. They groaned beneath his weight.
The tavern keeper described the room as simple.
That was a generous description. The room had no more than a simple washbasin, a narrow bed and a chair that looked one light breeze away from collapse.
It was dark. There was no fireplace, no lit candles, only furniture cloaked in black.
Mirielle froze in the doorway. Reis rested his hand on the small of her back.
"Stay here."
Reis pressed a kiss on the top of her head before entering. Mirielle watched the darkness swallow him whole.
For a moment there was only the sounds of boots on wood. Then flint kissed steel and a spark flared in the black. One lantern bloomed from the room. Then another. Then another.
Only when the darkness had fully retreated did Reis return to her. He held out a hand.
"Come here."
Mirielle slipped her fingers into his. Reis led her inside, his gaze never leaving her face.
"Alright?"
Heat bloomed in her face and across her neck. Every candle and lantern in the room was lit, but Mirielle couldn't help but feel embarrassed by the ritual.
Mirielle nodded through a shy smile. Reis studied her for a moment. Then he shut the door behind her. The latch clicked softly into place.
Mirielle's pulse immediately doubled. By the time she turned around, Reis had already wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in him.
His gaze traveled over her face, taking in her reddened cheeks, the flush creeping across her throat.
"Good."
Then he was all over her.
Not rough or careless, but impossible to escape. He kissed her forehead. Then her temple. Then her jaw.
"Reis—"
Another kiss.
"Reis—"
A crooked smile was already pulling at his mouth.
Mirielle had somehow accomplished a shade of red not yet known to mankind.
"Hmm?" His feigned ignorance would have been more convincing if he hadn't planted another kiss just below her ear.
The heat was already so strong in Mirielle's face all she could manage were blinks.
Reis looked at her like she was daybreak after years of storms. "Gods, Mirielle, have mercy on me."
Mirielle tried to rise through her confusion, but the heat vanquished her thoughts.
"Do you know how hard it is to sleep next to you in that damned tent?" Then he planted a kiss on her temple, her cheek, her neck.
Her body was somehow weaker suddenly. Mirielle made a small whimper as she fought a heat building in her belly.
Reis let out a low, strangled noise in response to her plea. Then he began undressing her, holding her upright with one hand while he trailed kisses down her neck to her chest. He loosened the strings in her dress with his other hand and pulled her dress down over her.
He pushed his mouth into her breast with aching tenderness. Mirielle panted beneath the power of him. She laced her fingers into his hair as he pulled her breast into his mouth. She tilted her head. Her hair fell like water over her shoulders.
"Reis—" Her plea was a breathy pant. He could feel her chest rising and falling rapidly beneath his mouth.
"You think I'd return you," Reis growled into her skin at the memory that angered him. "I'd be a mad king, you beautiful thing."
Reis's hands traced soothing lines down her back, slowly moving lower until he found the place between her legs.
Reis's hand pushed her undergarment aside, exposing her. Then he pushed two fingers into her wetness and curled. Mirielle let out a weak cry and collapsed into him. He caught her and gave a low satisfied growl into her neck.
He wove his fingers through her hair with his free hand and she tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck to him. He rewarded her with tender kisses down her throat, soothing her through waves that overwhelmed her.
He held her there, trapped between her body's submission and his gentle hold. Heat built in her stomach quickly, rising and rising like sparks through a current.
Mirielle bit his cloak and screamed a cry into its fur as she came apart on his fingers. He kissed her throat and let out a low groan as she did, as if he could take some of her sounds as his own.
"So good for me," Reis breathed below her ear. Then he licked a line down her neck.
Mirielle only responded with a weak whimper as she fought her muddled mind.
Reis lifted Mirielle with one arm and carried her across the room, her body still trembling lightly under his hand from the little shocks. He removed his cloak and threw it over the bed. Then he settled her carefully into its dark furs and stilled.
She held her fingers in front of her, beautiful against the black, like a tiny blushing moon against a midnight sky. For a moment he just stared at her, his expression gentled in a way few people ever saw.
"If I could lend you my eyes, Mirielle, just once, you would never doubt yourself again," he said softly.
He climbed over her, his large frame sheltering her smaller one. Then he kissed her deeply as if begging her light to swallow the blackness in him.
Mirielle melted into him, surrendering every ounce of her body and soul to his keeping. The forest beyond the tavern faded into the night. The groan of old timbers quieted, leaving only the wind threading through pines standing tall against the night sky.
Outside, Thornveil Forest stretched endlessly, its trees cloaking the world above, but for one night, neither of them feared the dark.
Wrapped in black fur and candlelight, they let the world wait until morning.
*
Kellan stared up at the ceiling with his hands laced behind his head. Dane was cleaning his boots in a chair next to him.
Then he got out of bed.
Dane looked up immediately.
"Don't."
Dane pointed at him as if his finger could hold him in place through some form of witchcraft.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You're putting your boots on."
Kellan smiled.
"It's a bad idea, Kellan."
Kellan ignored him.
Dane looked like a man who had seen entire kingdoms burn from decisions exactly like this one as he watched Kellan turn for the door.
Kellan strode out of the room and down the hall, passing candles flickering in the dark. Their flames bent in unseen drafts, painting the crooked hallway in gold and shadow.
He stopped outside her door. For a moment he simply stood there, staring at the worn wood.
Then he knocked lightly.
For a moment he didn't think she would answer. He thought maybe she was asleep. Maybe she was hiding from him.
Then the lock clicked and the door creaked open.
Lettie was there right on the other side, half hidden by the door.
Her fiery hair had been brushed loose and fell over her shoulders in copper waves, each strand catching the candlelight until it seemed spun from gold.
The loose shift she wore hung from her frame, soft and unadorned. The freckles on her face bloomed red.
Kellan forgot every language he spoke.
They had spent weeks flirting, weeks finding reasons to stand too close, to make her laugh, to brush hands.
Now she was only a breath away and suddenly that distance felt unbearable.
Something inside him snapped.
The distance between them vanished, the door slammed shut behind him. His hand found her jaw, gentle despite the urgency humming through him.
Lettie's eyes widened.
Then he bent down and kissed her.
His kiss was eager, ravenous and hungry. The kind of kiss that submitted so fully to nature that it lacked reason or restraint. It consumed her and Lettie sank into it, drowning her with him in a warm sea.
She made a small, surprised sound and it only sank him deeper. Kellan responded with a rough groan into her mouth as the world disappeared entirely. The tavern, the forest, all of it faded into light and fire. There were no jokes, no wit. Only need—ravenous, desperate need.
Kellan's hands found her waist and pulled her closer to him, pressing her against his hardness. He trailed kisses down her jaw. Lettie's pants became fast as her fingers gripped his cloak. She tilted her head, exposing her neck to him. His teeth grazed the skin there as if to reward and claim her.
Lettie let out a tiny whimper.
Kellan closed his eyes.
Then his composure collapsed entirely.
"You!" His voice was dark as a coal fire and twice as dangerous. He lifted her by her thighs with strong hands and brought her to the bed.
"Kellan—" she said his name with a breath. It was soft, distressed.
Kellan consumed her plea with a kiss, forcing her surrender.
He laid her on the bed. Lettie's shift spilled across the bed in soft folds. Her feet were crossed neatly beneath her. Her red hair spread across the pillows like firelight captured in silk while her chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths.
And her face.
Her cheeks were flushed. Her lips were pink and swollen. Confusion pinched her brow, soft and vulnerable and utterly unguarded. She was the most beautiful creature Kellan had ever laid eyes on.
And she was looking at him.
Kellan went rigid.
For a moment neither of them moved. The room was silent save for their breathing. The candle beside the bed flickered.
Lettie smiled at him—small, shy and beautiful. That was trust in her eyes. She had trusted him enough to open the door.
Realization hit Kellan with such sudden, terrible clarity that every part of him recoiled. Kellan put his hand over his mouth.
"No." His voice was broken with grief.
Lettie's smile disappeared. Kellan took a step back.
"No."
Confusion clouded Lettie's face.
"Kellan?"
Gods, that only made it worse. The concern in her voice. Concern for him. Something twisted inside him.
He looked around the room, the creaky floorboards, the thin blankets, the bed that was practically a cot.
And Lettie—unmarried, untouched and beautiful. Lettie who curled against him for warmth in her sleep. Lettie who smiled warmly enough to thaw the heart of winter itself. Who thought she didn't deserve warm clothes. Who tied her worth to her usefulness.
Kellan let out a shaky breath. "You should hate me."
Lettie blinked. "What are you talking about?"
"I wasn't thinking, Lettie. I wasn't thinking at all."
Lettie's confusion slowly gave way to something else, something more fragile.
"Kellan—"
He laughed once. A miserable sound. "Gods." He dragged a hand through his hair. "What is wrong with me?"
Lettie was sitting up now. "Kellan, you're frightening me."
That immediately got his attention.
"I'm sorry." The apology came instantly, sincerely.
Her expression broke. Not dramatically, just a tiny hurt. Kellan felt sick and turned away. He couldn't look at her.
"You deserve better."
Then Kellan fled the room.