Bittersweet
Hannah
I opened the door and quickly closed it behind me, my heart pounding. No matter how composed I had thought I was, nothing could have prepared me for how much seeing him would hurt. I wasn’t ready to look him in the eyes. Rohen had said he didn’t want me anymore—so why was he here?
I braced myself for mockery and looked up.
My breath hitched when I laid eyes on him.
Pain. Desperation. Sorrow. So much hurt in his eyes it stole the breath from my lungs. His brows were drawn together, his lips trembling slightly, as if he were barely holding himself together.
Why?
I needed to know what this meant.
I inhaled deeply. As I exhaled, I asked, “Why are you here?” forcing my voice to stay neutral.
“Hannah.”
How could one word carry so much pain?
Tears burned behind my eyes. No. I wouldn’t give him that.
“Why are you here, Drokahr?” I pressed. I deserved answers.
“For you.”
No. Lies. My mind screamed.
I shook my head, refusing to believe him. “No. You left me alone. You wouldn’t look at me, wouldn’t talk to me, wouldn’t explain anything. You sent me away. You don’t want me.”
“Lies, Hannah.”
“Explain. Now.” My lips trembled as I spoke.
Drokahr nodded. His voice was low as he began to tell me everything—starting with the moment he forbade me from leaving the tent. How Solkar had threatened to hurt me. How he had believed that pushing me away was the only way to keep me safe. What he had done to his clan member… and why.
Gods. Could my heart ache any more?
He told me what happened after that. How he had spent countless days searching the forest, hoping I had managed to escape. His desperation. His fear. How the others had helped him. How they had cared.
I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore.
Then he told me he was no longer a warrior—and why.
I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. I couldn’t believe he had done that. Because of me.
“Why would you do that?” I whispered through my sobs.
“How could I pretend to be a warrior if I can’t keep you safe?”
Anger flared in my chest, tangled with grief. “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you even know how I felt?”
He flinched. “I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in camp.”
“Instead, you made me feel unwanted,” I snapped, tears spilling freely now. “You pushed me away. How is that better?”
More pain crossed his face. “I was a fool. I thought I knew what I was doing… but I didn’t.”
I covered my face with my hands and broke down. I was angry. Hurt. Confused. I wanted to believe him—but after everything that had happened, I wasn’t sure how.
“Hannah.”
I felt him step closer.
“How do I know you won’t push me away again?” I looked into his eyes. I needed to see it. Needed to know.
“Never. Never again. I promise.” His voice cracked. “The pain I caused you—I can’t forgive myself.”
He reached out but stopped, giving me the space to decide.
I didn’t move away.
Gently, he cupped my cheek, wiping away a tear.
“Come home with me, Hannah. Please.”
“As your pet?”
He shook his head. “As whatever you want to be. Just… come home.”
I nodded.
Drokahr
A weight lifted from my chest when I saw her nod.
I had thought I’d lost her.
Rohen had lied to her—made her believe she was unwanted. I could see how deeply she had believed it. I didn’t fault her. Not after what I had done.
I didn’t want her to stay in this place a moment longer. I took her hand as gently as I could. I had seen how battered it was and refused to cause her any more pain. Together, we moved through the corridors toward the exit.
Hannah’s expression was tense. “We need to leave before the mistress comes back.”
“Mistress?”
“The old Orc woman who runs this place.”
No one would come between us again.
Luck was with us—we weren’t discovered. The toad at the entrance vanished beneath his desk the moment he spotted me. Hannah shot me a questioning look. I only shrugged. She didn’t need to know how I had convinced him to let me see her.
The journey back to camp would be long. By the time we arrived, it would likely be early summer. I decided to buy supplies in town—and to find a healer for Hannah.
After asking a merchant, we were led to a woman who carefully bandaged Hannah’s hands and restitched the wound on her head.
Hannah winced as the healer removed the old stitches.
I kept my hand on her back, hoping the contact might steady her, soothe her—even just a little.
The healer tended to her other injuries as well.
I was horrified by the state she was in.
I bought medical ointment and fresh bandages for the road.
Once we were back outside, I asked quietly, “Who hurt you?” Anger edged every word.
“I did.”
Alarmed, I opened my mouth to ask what she meant.
“I slipped and fell down the stone steps in the garden,” she explained.
I had the sense she wasn’t telling me everything—but I didn’t press. What we had between us felt too fragile for that. She had agreed to come home with me. That alone felt like something I could break if I wasn’t careful. She would tell me when she was ready.
I bought two bedrolls and the rest of our supplies. An extra blanket for Hannah. I refused to let her be uncomfortable ever again. I would gladly carry anything for her, no matter the weight.
I asked if she wanted to be carried.
She shook her head. “No. I think I would like to walk.”
As much as I wanted to hold her and never let go, I found comfort in having her walk beside me. She could have refused me. She hadn’t.
I would cherish that gift.
Our last stop was for clothes. It wasn’t easy, but we found a tunic and trousers that fit her reasonably well—white shirt, green pants, and sturdy brown boots suited for the road.
When I took her newly bandaged hand in mine, we finally made our way out of the city.
I could hardly believe she was here.
I focused on keeping my grip steady, unwilling to let her feel how badly my hand trembled. I had almost lost her.
That would never happen again.
She walked slowly, but I matched her pace without a thought. She was with me. She was here.
That was all that mattered.
There was no reason to rush.