Chapter 17
Asmall fire smoldering in the hearth lights the cabin when we enter. The echo of the empty space needs the laughter and banter of the other three, but all I hear are Bastian’s heavy footfalls and his breathing. Instead of heading for my bedroom at the rear of the cabin, he carries me to the stairs.
“You’ll be more comfortable in my bed tonight.” When I go rigid in his arms, he adds, “I’ll sleep in Gray’s room.”
He lays me on the mattress and lights the oil lamp on the bedside table. I act curious, as if this is my first time in his room. Everything is in the same place—the papers on the desk, the drawings on the wall, his bookshelf. I skim my palm over his gray blanket. It’s softer than I imagined.
I inspect a parchment nailed to the wall with the five intertwined circles. Each one has its own intricate personality, differentiating itself from the whole. Mine contains arrows, with an occasional heart sprinkled in. He’s written my name in neat cursive script along the edge of my ring.
He follows my gaze, runs his hand nervously through his hair, and sits beside me on the bed. “Uh… yeah. As much as I don’t like to admit it, you’re one of us now. Like it or not.”
I prop myself up on my elbows and wince. With this pain, I’m not sure I’ll sleep tonight.
“Are you ok?” He reaches out, touching my arm.
I chew on my inner cheek, trying to work up the courage to ask him my next question. His current sympathy for my plight might make it easier. “Will you stay here tonight? I don’t think I can sleep, and I could use something to distract me from the pain.”
He appears to contemplate my words before saying, “Move over… slowly.”
Using my good ankle, I shimmy closer to the wall as Bastian settles in beside me, his shoulder touching mine. “I didn’t know you were an artist.”
“I’m not.” He frowns, appraising his work. “I doodle when things are bothering me.”
“And I bother you?” The question opens up a world of possible answers, but I don’t care. The only person I’ve ever had genuine conversations with was my dad. He questioned the very Council he was on, and though I was young, I understood him, unlike anyone else in my life.
His hands are in his lap. He twists a black ring on his pointer finger as he sits in silence. “You bother me more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life, Windsong.”
I quirk my lip when he uses my last name. Is it a term of endearment? And I’m not sure what to make of his proclamation. Do I bother him in a good or bad way? I’ve already opened a new world between us. Why not continue pushing him? “How so?”
He shifts so he’s facing me, close enough that I could reach up and cup his cheek, but I keep my hands firmly beneath my legs. “Ever since my parents died, the prophecy’s words have provided the hope I’ve needed to get by. Someone more powerful than me is out there who will know how to take down the two cities and bring peace to the wilderness. My role was to be a pawn in the savior’s army, and if I was lucky, a knight or a bishop. And then you show up with your stupid oversized canvas clothes and terrible aim. Gray insists you are the one. So, I continue to train you because he’s my brother.” He lifts a hand to my face. “The damn feeling won’t go away. You’ve got me drowning so deep, I’m unsure how I’ll ever come up for air. And I’ve tried to sort my obsession out. Is it attraction or purely a need for self-preservation? My heart knows you’re the savior and it wants to protect you, so you can fulfill your role.” His finger skims my cheek. “But is it something more?”
My breath catches, my body humming as he moves in closer, resting his forehead against mine. In the stillness, I can hear the pounding of my heart against my chest. Whatever is between us, it goes both ways.
His lips brush over my cheek, leaving a chilling trail to my ear. “As much as I want to, I can’t stay away.”
Like a forest fire, my body feels like it could go up in flames. In my few heated kisses with Flynn, I never felt the rush of liquid inferno Bastian ignites in me. It’s fitting he smells like a campfire.
As he draws back my head, his lips continue to explore my neck, leaving both peppered kisses and lingering tugs as he sucks my skin between his lips. The touch of his mouth sends bolts of electricity to my core.
When he releases my hair, I move a hand along his cheek, running my thumb over his stubble, and he tilts his head into my palm. Hooded with desire, his eyes drop to my lips, and he leans forward to take my mouth with his. The feeling of his full lips on mine is exactly how I imagined it: gentle at first, taking time to savor the taste of each other. Then his teeth scrape my lip, and I open my mouth for his tongue to explore. I barely have time to enjoy the tangle of his tongue with mine before his hand slips down my side, gripping my waist. It slides beneath my shirt and rests on my stomach.
I pull back to catch my breath. “Bastian.”
He doesn’t respond but lays me farther back on the pillows, placing a leg on either side of my hips. His long hair partially covers his face as he leans down to take my lips again. Acting purely on desire, I lift my hips to his, but an intense jolt of pain streaks through my leg. Tears fill my eyes, and I curse my injured ankle.
“Are you ok?” He’s off me and kneeling beside the bed, his fingers running through my hair. “That was stupid.”
Being an insecure idiot, I wonder if he means kissing me was stupid or climbing on top. “Other than the last part, I kind of liked it.” My face warms from my vulnerable declaration.
He slips his hand into mine. “I’ll get you to Ben tomorrow. For now, it’s probably better if I sleep across the hall.” There’s an unfamiliar shyness in his expression.
I sit up straighter in the bed and place my hands in my lap, twisting the blanket. “It’s probably also not the best idea to kiss me when you have a girlfriend.”
With that, he’s on the bed again, his hand on my thigh. “Susan’s not my girlfriend. We spend time together, but we have a mutual agreement to keep feelings out of it.”
“You better reiterate that to her. She made it clear that you belong to her. Suggested I spend more time with Rafe.” I lean on my side, taking extra care with my ankle.
“Under no circumstances are you to be alone with Rafe.” He frowns, his hand massaging my leg. “He’s a werewolf in sheep’s clothing and always looking for his next conquest.”
I don’t want to be anyone’s conquest—even Bastian’s.
“I’ll remember that.” I force out a weak smile, still sad our kiss kept him from staying. There are so many questions I have about the prophecy, the First City, and about what happened to his parents. They can wait until morning.
He leans forward, kissing me on the cheek and enveloping me in his warm aura. “Good night.”
His scent lingers after he’s left the room, so I wrap the blanket around me, imagining he’s still here and trying to block out the pain of my ankle. I lie awake for a long time, first listening to the sounds across the hall, then the melody of crickets and other creatures outside the window before drifting to sleep.
A soft knockon the door wakes me. I stretch my arms above my head. The sharp pain in my leg has blood pumping harder than usual through my veins. I groan loudly, fighting back the tears.
Bastian slams the door open and sits on the bed beside me, lifting the blankets as if they’re made of lead, probably trying not to hurt me. He rolls up my pant leg to reveal an ugly mass of black and purple that used to be my ankle. “It’s worse than I thought. I need to get you to Ben before you go into shock.”
My stomach growls, taking priority over my ankle. “Is there an apple I could take on the road?”
“I made us sandwiches.” He stands and walks to the door. “I’ll come back to get you in a minute or two.”
I shift in the bed so I can hang my legs over the edge and use my arms to prop myself up to a sitting position. It’s terrible to feel useless. I balance on my good leg to stand, then hop over the floor to the desk chair, making it easier to manage. The letter Bastian wrote to his friend Xavier was still there the night before, but now it’s gone. He didn’t want me to read it.
“What are you doing out of bed?” He stands in the doorframe with his cloak and pack on. In his hand is what I assume is my sandwich wrapped in a napkin.
“Put yourself in my situation. You’d never lie around doing nothing.” I sit down in the chair and lace on my left boot.
He quirks his lip, scratching his ear. “Yeah… well, at least I’d be smart about not following the doctor’s orders. I’d use a crutch so I wouldn’t fall.”
I lift an eyebrow. “So, you’re Doctor Hale now? Better not let that go to your head like the whole commander role.” It’s flirting, but the truth in my words settles like bricks between us.
“I didn’t ask for it.” He leans against the doorframe. This morning, he’s tied his hair back, revealing his beautifully chiseled jawline. “It’s a role I fell into. After my parents died, I wandered for a while, lost in my grief. When I found Levi again, the others assumed I was a rebellion fighter. More like I lifted one too many hay bales in my life. Gray taught me how to use weapons. Turns out, I’m a natural.”
“I meant nothing by it.” I brace my hand on the desk to stand. “You fit the role so well, I figured you relished in the attention.”
“It’s the complete opposite.” He crosses the room to where I’m standing. “Put your arm around my neck.” I comply, and he sweeps me up into his arms as if I weigh nothing. After our time together last night, his touch is magnified, searing my arm and thigh.
I rest my head on his chest as he carries me down the stairs to the living area and then out the back door by my bedroom. We take a different trail than the one we use to go to the training grounds. It’s also much later. He let me sleep in.
“I was the youngest of three brothers.” He breaks my concentration on the rhythm of his heartbeat. “Frank and Chilon always outshined me in everything—wrestling, farm work, attention from our parents, women. This pushed me inward, so I turned to books and learning to find my worth in a strength-dominated world. Muscles and physical prowess accomplished tasks around the farm, not knowledge of fairytales and enhanced vocabularies.”
Still hesitant to touch him, even after our heated kisses the night before, I lay a hand on his chest. “But you have both.”
He laughs. “I didn’t always. Compared to my brothers, I was a scrawny child. It took years of working on the farm to build my strength. And years of having my butt kicked by them.”
“What happened to your family?” I let the question hang between us, knowing the same hurt all too well. Levi told me the story, but I want Bastian to open his heart to me.
His face darkens as he stares ahead of us. Strong hands clutch me tighter. “Miscretes. It wasn’t random. It was almost like they were after something my parents had, and they didn’t plan to leave a single living thing standing until they found it. Burnt down the farm, our home, and slaughtered my entire family.”
I close my eyes as waves of his pain roll off him, drowning me in the intensity of his aura. The connection between us is palpable as I grip his arm asking, “How did you escape?”
The question threatens to pour more heaping piles of guilt on him, but there’s something about him that makes me want to know everything.
A stream of air exits his nostrils. “We had a bunker for storms hidden behind the barn. When the creatures approached, my parents told my brothers, Levi and me to run for it. We dashed away to the deafening screams of my mother, my heart pounding in fear. When we rounded the barn, a gang of creatures waited for us. It was as if they knew we’d try to escape to the bunker.” A stray tear rolls down his cheek, and I want to wipe it away, but I’m mesmerized by his story. “Frank told us to run for the bunker. He’d fight them off. I didn’t want to leave him, but Chilon gripped my hand and pulled me away. He flung open the metal door, our chests heaving as we stared down into the pitch-black hole. That’s when I turned around.” His eyes squeeze shut as if he’s trying to block out the memory.
“You don’t have to tell me.” I lift my hand to his face. The pain, now radiating through me as intense heat, is almost too much for me to take. “I can feel it.”
His eyes flick open, their intense blue drilling into me. “You can feel my emotions?”
“I can.” I don’t understand what’s happening between the two of us, but the invisible string has morphed into an iron rope. “You watched Frank die.”
He swallows, and the lump in his throat bobs. “Yes. And I heard Chilon die. He forced me into the bunker and ordered me to lock it as the creatures attacked. For five days, Levi and I drowned in our misery in that earthen hole. Partly out of fear that the Miscretes were lurking above, and partly because I never wanted to come up to breathe fresh air my family would never breathe again.”
Watching my mother succumb to the sickness seems like nothing after hearing Bastian and Levi’s stories. They also fill my heart with fear. As the savior, I’m to lead the wilderness against the First City.
“I wanted to burn them to the ground when I heard they took Lyden to the Ringlet Forest. To make them pay for what they did to my family.” He holds me so close I think I might suffocate, but I don’t complain. “They were too much. We’re not ready to face the First City yet.”
“Then we prepare for Avren.” A hollow feeling tells me I’m not ready to face the city I once loved. Where Flynn wants to be a soldier. To think of him as an enemy is ludicrous. “First we free the wilderness from bondage, then we free them from fear.”
“We need to find the other part of the prophecy. Without the second savior, our hands are tied.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. “Good thing I’ve got a lot more work to do with you.”
My cheeks heat. “Good thing.”
About midday, Bastian follows a trail up a hillside littered with the bones of animals. Slashed into the bark of the trees are symbols that appear to be warnings to the casual travelers. Most depict darkness—skulls, weapons, and beheaded creatures. Tin plates hanging from tree branches clang together in the breeze.
“Are you sure this is safe?” I lift my head and try to take more of a sitting position in his arms. Everything about this place has me on edge. There’s energy in the air, but it’s colder than the dancing electricity I felt when Levi and I entered Mafekadi.
“There are other nasty creatures around here we’ll need to avoid, but you don’t have to worry about Ben. Evie’s known him for a long time.” He rounds a massive pile of bones, and we’re suddenly surrounded by cottages.
People mill around campfires, hang laundry, and weave baskets using reeds from a nearby stream. Everything seems like a typical village except for their unusual obsession with animal bones. That, and that everyone is staring at us.
“Act normal.” Bastian puts on a cheesy grin.
“Right. Having an enormous man carry me into a village where the people decorate with bones is a very normal occurrence for me.”
He sets me down, but I keep an arm around him to balance as he proclaims to those nearby, “We’re here to see Ben Finch.”
An older woman with wiry gray hair hobbles toward us. Her cane is carved from the largest bone I’ve ever seen. “Ben heals the Mastria, not outsiders.”
“Come closer.” Bastian takes my hand and holds it out to the woman. “Touch her and you will see the truth.”
My hand shakes as the woman approaches. She raises a skeptical bushy eyebrow before resting her palm on top of mine. Her eyes widen before she turns back to the rest of the onlookers. “She is a savior.”
The more they use the word, the more uncomfortable I become. I’m a dressmaker from Avren. My father was on the Council, but other than that, there’s nothing significant about me.
A man steps out from a cottage about halfway through the village. He’s dressed in a tunic and cotton pants, nothing signifying him as a healer. “Bring the girl to me.”