29. Chapter 29 #2
Vaelin took a shaky breath as his wide eyes skated over her face, like she was the answer to a question he hadn’t realized he’d been asking.
Beneath her hand, his heart beat as hard and fast as her own.
Then, as though remembering where they stood, he leaned back slightly, the look in his eyes settling into grim determination.
“We need to move,” he said.
Isla’s eyes darted around at the mists, the mountain peaks, her chest tightening as a fresh wave of terror threatened to drown her. A gust of wind slammed into Vaelin’s shield and he grunted, the tendons in his neck straining. He was exhausted.
“You’re going to burn out,” she warned.
“I don’t care,” he growled. “Now, walk.”
He made to turn and she clutched inadvertently at his hand where their fingers were still interlaced, sheer panic surging through her. He halted then, tilting his head, and turned back to her. “Isla,” he murmured softly, and her chest fluttered oddly. “Trust me.”
Slowly, he slid one foot along the stone before planting it carefully behind him. He shifted his weight back as though to take another step — backwards.
“What are you doing?” she breathed, her eyes wide.
The corner of his mouth twitched upward, dimple materializing on his cheek as he took another step backwards.
They were far enough apart now that his arm was at full extension.
She would have to choose between taking a step, or releasing his hand.
Both options seemed impossible. Somewhere in the distance, Evric cursed colourfully, but Vaelin paid him no attention, his eyes fixed on hers.
“You’re out of your mind,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Come on, Isla. Stay with me,” he said, and the words wrapped themselves around her like a spell.
She couldn't look away from him, pulse still hammering in her throat. Vaguely, she was aware of her feet moving, boots scraping along the rocky surface. Then suddenly she was stepping off the bridge, Vaelin drawing her several steps farther onto the safety of the plateau and away from the mountain’s edge.
An unimaginable relief ripped through her and she felt her knees give way. Vaelin caught her as she collapsed, burying her head in his chest as sobs wracked her body. He loosed a shaky breath of his own, his heart beating rapidly under her cheek as his free hand moved to the back of her head.
"Gods dammit Vaelin," she heard Evric growl furiously. Beside him, Aurelia slid her back down the nearby rock face, as though she too was overcome with a bone-deep exhaustion.
But Vaelin remained wholly focused on Isla, murmuring soothingly into her hair as her gasps gradually faded into shaky breaths and her trembling stilled.
"You're okay. We made it."
She stiffened and his hand slipped from her hair, fingers catching in the windswept mess. She lifted her head from his chest, laying both hands flat against his chest. Then, mustering every ounce of her remaining energy, she pushed him — hard.
Taken by surprise, he stumbled backwards and tripped over a rock, only just managing to catch his balance before he fell.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Isla yelled, throwing his own words back at him. Tears burned the corners of her eyes, stoking the flames of her anger.
Vaelin stared at her, shock and confusion clouding his expression, "I don’t—“
"That's the most idiotic, reckless thing I've ever seen anyone do. And for what? Me? I'm nothing — I’m no one. Why would you—“ she broke off, a guttural noise of frustration escaping her as she pressed a hand to her chest as if it might soothe the ache there. "I am not worth your life."
Vaelin was in her space before she had finished the sentence, looming over her with eyes that burned like silver fire. "You are not nothing," he seethed. "You are not no one. You are not disposable. Not to—“ he seemed to bite down on something, changing tact, "You are integral to this mission."
Isla huffed a sharp, humourless laugh, "So you keep telling me."
Vaelin's eyes burned into her as he seemed to fight with himself over his next words. Finally, he murmured, quiet enough that only she could hear, "You felt that. On the bridge." It was a statement, but a question, too.
Isla stared at him, a flash of heat lighting her body, flush rising to her neck.
He could be referring to anything from the vision — the terrifying shadow army they'd faced in the midst of a sandstorm or the incomprehensible veins of magic that had encircled her hand. But she knew he meant the charged feeling between them, the unmistakeable yearning in his eyes and the echoing desire in her own. Had he heard it too? The sentiment she’d felt in her bones? They hadn’t had enough time.
Her eyes slipped to his lips and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“We…” she trailed off, fighting for words that seemed to stick in her throat.
He stayed silent and unmoving, waiting, as though holding himself at bay.
"We should keep moving," she finished, stepping back to put some space between them.
His hand twitched as she pulled away, his eyes still fixed on hers.
"Isla—“
Evric's fist collided with Vaelin's jaw with a resounding crack. Caught off guard again, Vaelin grunted, doubling over as he took the hit full force.
"Don't you dare pull that shit again," Evric snarled at him, embers sparking in his eyes. But beneath the lines of anger Isla could feel the fear that drove his temper.
Vaelin straightened, rubbing the side of his jaw with one hand. "You fucking punched me," he said, somewhat dazed.
Evric shrugged, "Usually you duck."
Isla looked to Aurelia. She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing as though this was a common occurrence, but Isla didn't miss the slight shaking of her hand as she did so. Suddenly, the stark memory of Aurelia’s near-fall swept over Isla and she moved, falling to her knees next to the healer.
“Are you okay?” she asked, clutching Aurelia’s hand.
The fae beauty looked to Isla, her eyes lined with unspent tears and squeezed her hand. “I’m okay,” she said, smiling. “You?”
Isla nodded shakily, then stood and looked to the men, her eyes finding Vaelin as though drawn to him by reflex.
He stood next to Evric, glowering in silence as a purple bruise bloomed on his jaw.
He met Isla’s gaze, and she watched as some unreadable emotion flickered across his face.
They stared at each other for a moment that seemed to stretch, thin and taut.
Then, in a shift so subtle that she questioned whether she had truly seen it, she watched him harden, like the smooth marble of a statue as he raised his walls, shutting the door on possibility.
He strode past her without meeting her gaze, and her fingers twitched at her side as though they wanted to reach for him of their own volition.
“Let’s move to lower ground,” he said over his shoulder. “We all need some rest.”