Chapter 24
Twenty-Four
Elora
“The other women?” I ask the driver.
He says nothing, keeping his face forward.
The rise and fall of my chest hasn’t slowed since Calix shoved me into the back of this caravan. But it’s been too long and his departing words repeat over and over in my mind.
“Don’t make any sounds. Any movements.”
Don’t let them take you.
I tug at my earlobe before glancing out the small, curtained window. The caravan is still parked near the bridge but now more guards have filtered out. They shout amongst each other; the glint of their blades makes my stomach lurch.
Looking for you. Time to run, susi.
Run. Yes. That I’m good at. I tighten my shirt around myself and place my hand on the door?—
“We need to search this caravan by order of the king.”
I freeze, my hand still gripping the handle.
“No need,” the driver says, suddenly finding his voice. “Lord Calix will be back any moment then we’ll be out of your hair.”
“You didn’t hear me,” the guard says. “We’ve been instructed to search every caravan, no matter who it belongs to.”
“Suit yourself.” The weight in the front shifts as the driver steps down. My heart sets a bruising pace as I eye the door. The men are on the opposite side. No way out.
I’m in a cage.
I slide my hand from the door and bite my tongue to keep from crying. My throat is too tight, my body too weak. The door pushes open?—
A loud crack sounds outside.
The guard shouts, but I can’t make out any words. Metal hits metal and I take it as my opportunity to run. I push the door open, and when I land, my bare feet hit something sticky and wet. Crimson pools beneath me. Darkness rushes my vision. My lungs squeeze and the images I fight every night come cascading down.
Snow.
Crimson.
Steel.
“Elora.”
I’m snapped out of my panic by a voice. I don’t look up from the ground as the darkness washes from my vision. I don’t trust that it isn’t in my head for so many of the voices are.
“Elora.” A hand brushes mine, and I don’t need to look to know but it’s the touch that my body remembers. Recognizes even in the storm of panic. I’d know it anywhere. In any shadowed corner of the earth. His thumb tucks under my chin and lifts upward.
“Sorin.” My voice cracks.
He pulls off his mask, and his dark eyes find mine. Every wall I’ve built around myself the last few weeks shatters. The lump in my throat grows painful as I fall into his chest. His clothes are wet and bloodied, I’m sure from the guard, but I don’t let it stop me from wrapping my arms around him. As his fingers snake through my hair and his lips brush my forehead.
“I have you,” he whispers against my skin. His hands hold tightly against my back. “I have you, love.”
He came for me all the while I was coming for him. I’ve always wondered if the darkness yearns for the sun each night. If it wishes to have only a taste of its golden warmth and light. But now I know it to be true. Because he is here. Good and light and warm and safe. And despite all of my darkness, he is the sun I crave.
“We need to hurry.” Calix steps forward, clasping a hand on Sorin’s shoulder.
Sorin pulls away but doesn’t let go of my hand as he guides me back into the caravan.
Once inside, my hearing is muffled by the sound of my heart overworking in my chest. But through the constant thrumming comes a noise loud enough to make me jump.
A howl.
“Ruse.” I rip open the curtain of the caravan just in time to get a glimpse of a set of emerald eyes in the distant woods. My heart beats faster but this time for an entirely different reason.
She’s alive.
“Ruse,” I say again, my voice breaking at the end.
Sorin wraps his arm around my middle, his chin resting in the crook between my shoulder and jaw. “She’s okay,” he whispers in my ear. “Alaric, too. They know the way. They’ll be right behind us.”
My shoulders unclench as Ruse’s green eyes fade into the darkness, another faint howl creeping in through the cracks of the caravan.
I pay no mind to the two men beside us as I turn to Sorin, running my fingers along his jaw. He closes his eyes and takes a shuddering breath as I trace the outline of his lips. Sorin grabs my hand, careful to avoid my wrists, and kisses my knuckles before wrapping me into his arms.
“Elora,” he whispers; the sound is both broken and whole. That piece inside of us that’s only made for each other rights itself, and despite everything, I’d endure it again if it meant finding him alive and safe.
“You’ll stay at the Onyx Guild,” Calix says, but I can’t focus on anything other than Sorin. His warmth. The erratic rhythm of his heart. “My healers can help you.”
This draws my attention and I turn to him. He gestures to my wrists and on instinct I pull my shirt down to cover them up.
“Healers? Enchantresses?” I ask.
Calix shakes his head, finally meeting my gaze. “Just medicine, I’m afraid. Not Mother-blessed,” he says through a smile.
It’s with his words my memories from tonight slam into me. He must read by expression because before I can ask him, he’s reaching for my hand. I flinch at his touch, but his fingers clasp around mine and I’m surprised to find comfort, not fear.
“My men found two of them just before the king sent the guards, but any others...” He pulls his hand away and glances down. “I’m sorry.”
I let out a long sigh, tears burning in my eyes as I recline into Sorin’s chest.
“We’ve got a few hours,” the other, older man says. “Let's all get some shut eye. Dawn will bring a new world of problems for us and Mother knows we haven’t any solutions.”
I wake with a start.
Sitting up, my hair is stuck to my neck, my breathing shallow and painful. Dim, gray light trickles in from a window, barely lighting the space, but there’s a window . My breathing slows as I slump backward against a wood headboard.
Not in a cage.
I reach around and trace the ink on the back of my neck. It no longer burns, but the weight of it is enough to cause an ache. The bed moves, and I remember I’m not alone. Now that I’m unshackled, I can mask the ink, so I do, still not ready to discuss the bargain I made with Grawgeth in Sorin’s stead.
Sorin sleeps beside me. His dark hair is ruffled, the scruff lining his jaw barely there. I don’t wish to wake him, but my fingers find their way to his face. Just as they had last night. A way of reminding myself he’s truly here. Gently, I trace his lips. Then his nose and his jaw. I slide back down into bed, keeping myself facing him. He must sense me, because he yawns, stretching his hands above his head.
“How did you sleep, love?” A smile twitches at his lips, and my body naturally curls into his. His skin is warm and smooth, and I have a thought to pinch him or myself to make sure this is real.
“I slept well, actually,” I say, and his arms wrap tighter around me. “We’re at the Onyx Guild?”
“Yes.” He kisses the top of my head, and my stomach flutters. “The others will meet us here in a week.”
“Sam and Jarek?” I ask as Sorin runs his fingers up and down my arms. I savor the touch, but my mind snags on the night prior. “Are the other Enchantresses well?”
“Sam and Jarek will be here.” Sorin’s fingers run through my hair, and I realize that while I’ve been changed into a simple, cotton shift, I haven’t bathed. In weeks. I cringe and pull myself away from him. “And as for the Enchantresses, I assumed we would talk to them together.”
“I’d like that.” I grimace as I bring my hands up. My nails are broken at different lengths, dirt caked beneath them. “We have many things to talk about, I’m afraid.” I glance at him, but he’s moved to his back, staring at the ceiling.
“That we do,” he says. He sighs, his chest deflating. “Galen—” He presses his palms into his eyes, and my heart squeezes.
“Sorin—”
“We don’t have to speak of it now,” he says. “Unless you want to.” He glances at me with an attempt at a smile. “Anything you want, Elora.” He props himself on his elbow. “I just?—”
“Later.” I lean forward to brush a kiss to his forehead. Galen’s betrayal is one that I’ve had weeks to sit with and while it stung, it’s nothing I imagine to what Sorin is feeling.
His best friend.
A brother in arms.
“Later,” he mimics, wrapping me in his arms again. My body relaxes into his as I examine my wrists. The wounds around them are still open but not painful. I tilt my head as I study them.
“One of the healers applied some cream.” Sorin gestures to my wrists. “You fell asleep in the caravan. I carried you inside and didn't want to wake you. She left extra on the bedside table.”
I glance over my shoulder to see a small tub wrapped in parchment and topped with lavender.
“The wolves?” I sit forward with a start, closing my eyes and focusing on pushing a message through our bond. Sorin says something but I don’t hear him as I concentrate.
You’re okay, Ruse?
Yes .
It's barely there, a vague whisper, but as the message hits me I muffle a cry in relief.
Without the iron around my wrists, my magick stirs, itching at my skin. Smiling, I glance at Sorin again. He’s propped on an elbow, staring at me. I lean forward to kiss him but stop myself as I catch sight of my filthy hands and nails again. “Is there somewhere I can bathe?”
“There’s a bathing chamber attached to our room. I’ll call for some warm water and towels.” He leans forward and lays a quick kiss to my cheek. “I’ll see you after your bath at breakfast.”
“You’re not joining me?”
His eyes widen, a faint blush spreading over his cheeks. “Is that what you wish, love?”
I glare at him, not willing to repeat myself.
He smiles, then laughs, and a tiny piece of my broken self-stitches back together. “I’ll get the water and the towels, wait here.”
Once alone, I study the room more closely. Just as expected for the Onyx Guild, the walls and floor are black stone. The room is simple, a four-post bed and a bathing chamber just as Sorin said. Peeking through the dark curtains, a splash of dull light hits me and just over the horizon I can make out the Kirsgard Mountains. My hands tremble as I pull the curtains tightly shut.
Sorin returns a few moments later with two handmaids. Their long, black dresses sway against the floor as they fill the basin. They drop a few towels on the bed and leave without a word.
My stomach clenches as I join Sorin in the bathing chamber. Like the bedroom, it’s mostly black apart from the porcelain tub. Onyx stones dangle from the ceiling on invisible strings, light from the small window hitting them and making the room sparkle.
“Ladies first,” he says and just before he touches my night dress, he stops. His hands retreat behind his back and his eyes land on the wall past me.
He’s afraid to touch me.
I grab his arm, guiding his hand to my dress, encouraging him. He hesitates a moment before sliding the dress from my body. Under the morning light, the black and purple bruises are painted like a tapestry upon my skin. I don’t take my eyes off of him as he slips my camisole over my head. His face reddens, his jaw clenched tight. When he goes to my undergarments, his hands tremble against them so I place my hand atop his.
“I’m all right, Sorin.”
His eyes flick to mine. There’s a fire in them I haven’t seen before. A rage that is so unlike his normal self that I almost flinch.
“I’m all right.” I reassure him again and though he doesn’t look to believe me, he continues undressing me until I’m bare. I step into the water, relishing in the sting it leaves against my bruised skin.
Sorin slides in behind me, his long legs wrapping around my body. His hands are gentle as he glides lavender soap over my arms and chest.
“Tip your head back,” he says and I do.
Water prickles my scalp, the soapy bubbles fill the small room with their lavender and chamomile aroma. After my hair is rinsed and my body clean, we sit in contented silence. The window is cracked open but not even a caw from a crow comes wafting through. My back to his chest, my head on his heart.
“I missed you every day.” His confession echoes throughout the room. I grip his arms and so he tightens them around me. “Every second.” He kisses my head then his lips brush against my neck. “I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat.” Another kiss. I press farther into him, tipping my head up so I can see his face. “I won’t let it happen again.”
“You are not to blame for what happened.” He silences me with a pass of his thumb over my lips.
“Of course I am,” he whispers. “If I had come forward as the heir sooner, Roman wouldn’t have?—”
“You can’t think that way.” I sit forward and spin so that my body faces him. My legs wrap around his waist as I scoot forward and sit in his lap. His breath hitches as our bodies become flush with one another. “We’re here now and that’s all that matters.”
His eyes train on my mouth and my breaths remain stuck in my lungs. His fingers dig into my sides, that electrifying touch I’ve been desperate for the past few weeks buzzes against my bare skin.
He won’t kiss me first, I know that. Not with the damage done to my body. But the bruises will fade. The memories, perhaps not as quickly, but I pay that no mind at this moment. I shift my weight again so I’m more firmly planted in his lap. Sorin’s eyes close at the contact. Tracing my fingers up his chest, I watch as tiny droplets of water tickle along our skin.
“Elora…”
I grab his face, our lips meet not with a tenderness, but with a fierce longing. With familiarity and passion. Sparks of lightning, as Sorin once described it, ignite over my skin, and the more he kisses me, the more I crave it. I moan against his mouth as he pulls me tighter into him. Our kiss grows frenzied. Sorin’s hands are in my hair, his teeth and tongue against my neck. Water sloshes out of the tub, hitting the marble floors.
Breaking away, I cradle his face between my hands again. We’re both breathless as we stare at each other. He kisses me once more, gently on the lips. My body aches to be closer. But the voices begin to rise in my head, and I know it won’t be long before I can’t ignore them.
He must sense my change because his breathing begins to even out. His grip, a little lighter around my waist.
“Later?” I ask, adding to our long to do list.
He smiles. Bright and beaming, and I unabashedly place a kiss right on his dimple.
“Later,” he promises back.