Chapter 27 Evander
Chapter twenty-seven
Evander
Three times now, Evander had left Valenna and, in doing so, he’d packed his heart away and left it behind.
Sitting by the campfire, waiting for sunrise, Evander looked up with foolish hope at every snapping twig or scuttling creature, half expecting her to come.
“You don’t want her to come,” he mumbled to himself. “That’s the whole point.”
But he did want her to come. No one relishes the thought of dying alone, even self-contained exiled princes.
His pragmatism was hanging by a thread. He knew if she followed him, he would not be able to resist his passion for her.
The sun touched the mountain where it rose out of the forest, a wall of gray rock that groaned like the mountain was turning over in its sleep.
Evander built up the fire and let Hera wander off to find something to eat.
His head hurt behind his eyes. Squinting, he scanned the sky for Raska; he hadn’t seen the bird since he left Torsten’s hut.
He’d passed out of Bernice’s purview, but he didn’t feel safe.
Thinking of Raska put Evander on edge, and he started to his feet when he heard twigs cracking in the trees. Drawing his knife, he stood behind the fire, bracing for a fight. Expecting Bernice, or Raska, or some new foe.
A figure blundered into the clearing, and his heart lit up.
It was Valenna. She was breathless, her hair tangled with leaves, and an expression of grim determination on her face. She picked up a pinecone and hurled it at him. He ducked, and it sailed over his head.
“You almost convinced me, but it didn’t work!” Valenna shouted, marching toward him, her arms rigid at her sides, her hands balled into fists. “You always do this! You run away from everything!”
“I thought we agreed …”
“Because I went temporarily insane!”
“We agreed that we can’t be together,” he said, but already his arms ached to embrace her, his lips to claim hers. “Our parents tried to kill one another, our homelands are at war, and without my oath tattoo, my chances of getting the powder and surviving are dismal.”
“That’s enough!” Valenna cried. “I’m a grown woman, I’ve been to battle, and I’ll fall in love with whoever I want, and for some absurd reason, I want you.”
“Please.” His breath came rapid and heavy. She was so beautiful—there wasn’t an inch of her body or a corner of her mind he didn’t adore. His defenses crumbled brick by brick.
She continued, dangerously close to him now, just beyond her reach. “And I don’t care who your parents are, or where you were born, or whether you will drop dead tomorrow. There is no future for me but you. I love you, you infuriating man!”
He could feel the heat radiating from her. She was a fire-breathing dragon. He had to have her.
“If you love me,” she said, “then you have no right to turn me away. I won’t abandon you now. If we get three years, or three weeks, or three days, I’ll spend them with you, and that will be enough.”
Evander’s love and fear and guilt braided together. “Valenna, you are a stubborn woman who doesn’t know what’s good for you!”
“Yes, I am!” Valenna replied.
He crossed the space between them, closed his hand on the back of her neck, and pulled her toward him. She pressed her mouth to his, arched her chest against him. His fingers twined in her wild hair.
“I love you,” he said against her lips. “Oh, you mad, irritating, wonderful woman. I love you recklessly.”
“Never leave me again,” she replied.
“I never could,” he said. He trailed kisses down her neck, across her collarbone.
She threw her head back, and before he realized what was happening, she was beneath him on the ground, and he was bending over her, her hands sliding under his shirt and touching his back, his chest. He wanted her like he wanted oxygen—more.
All of her—every inch of her body under his hands.
But something nagged at him.
Not here. Not now.
She deserved better.
He broke away, panting. “This isn’t right.”
Valenna looked up, her eyes dancing. “It feels right.”
“This isn’t the right time or place.”
She sat up, her hair mussed. “Then when?”
“We’ll go to the sanctuary,” he said, scooting away from her, out of arm’s reach. “Somewhere safe and private, not on the cold ground in a dangerous forest.”
“That is irritatingly sensible.”
They sat across from one another, and Evander’s mind raced. Years of longing tugged at him; he had to have her. Now. No, not now, but soon. And he didn’t just want her lovely body, he wanted her heart. He wanted to belong to her, body and spirit.
“We should just get married,” he suggested suddenly.
He wasn’t certain how she would react to this. Shock? Fear? Even irritation? Instead, her face brightened, effervescent.
“Really, Vander?”
“I can’t seem to get rid of you no matter what I do, so why not make it permanent?”
She let out a happy little squeal and threw her arms around his neck, knocking him onto his back as she kissed his lips, his cheeks, the side of his neck. He laughed.
“So, this is a yes?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, trailing kisses from his ear to his collarbone. “Yes, yes, yes, yes.”
He slid out from under her arms, shocked at his own self-restraint. “Are you hungry?” he asked, standing and moving to the other side of the fire so he could put some distance between them.
“In multiple senses, yes,” she said, grinning.
“Stop it,” he scolded. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, and you’re making it difficult.”
“Good.”
He prodded the fire with a stick and then took a bacon bun from his rucksack and dropped it into her hand. She brushed his fingers with hers, and his whole arm tingled.
“You’re a cruel woman,” he said.
She bit the bun and watched him with her beautiful dark eyes, and his heart hammered so hard in his chest, he thought it might fly away like a hummingbird.
“Where shall we live, Mr. Trevelyan?” she asked, reclining back on one elbow, her body stretched out on the ground.
“I assumed we’d return to Silvanlight. Unless you have some better plan.”
She chewed thoughtfully. “Well, I should like to keep you alive for a few more years, so I don’t much like the idea of you being dragon master.”
“Alright.” He was shocked at how little he minded this. “We used to speak of a cottage and our own dracorium.”
Valenna gasped. “You remember?”
“Of course I remember,” he said, sitting beside her.
She turned and leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. “Well, I’ll settle for a quiet room at a tavern in Cobblepine for now,” she said. “So long as there’s a bed, I don’t care about much else.”
He kissed her, below her ear, and it sent a shiver through him. “I think I can arrange that.”