Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
Elora
Slouching on the bed, I lean over to unlace my boots. My body is on fire after performing Sam’s Ceremony, but my mind is restless, caught on a loop.
The way she looked not at me, but just to my side. The way her eyes widened and welled with tears. The way she spoke my name, as if she were about to speak a truth I’m not certain I’m ready to hear.
Sighing, I cradle my head in my hands. For so many nights I’ve wished nothing more than to hear from my mother, and yet when the opportunity presented itself, I froze.
“Typical,” I mutter but before I can beat myself up further, my attention draws to the door as it opens with a high-pitched squeak.
Sorin pokes his head in. “Can I come in?”
Smiling, I kick off my boots. “You don’t need to ask, it’s your room too,” I remind him. I’ll admit being at the Jade Guild has been anything but easy. Comfortable, but getting readjusted after so long in Valebridge has been difficult.
He steps in all the way, closing the door behind him. “Right.” He joins me on the bed. “I keep forgetting that.”
Sorin brushes a soft kiss to my forehead before untying his boots as well.
“Those feeling any better?” I ask, noting the weariness lining his eyes and bruises lining his knuckles.
He sighs, but doesn’t answer as he pulls off his boots.
My eyes linger on the curve of his back, the muscles there more defined with his shirt pulled taut. His hand finds mine, as it always does and some piece of me begins to settle and soothe under his touch. His scent of pine and tobacco, intoxicating. So many nights I dreamt of him. So many nights, I wondered if I’d ever be close with him again. I kiss his red knuckles lightly, smiling at the absurdity of his and Jarek’s fight.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Sorin leans further back and takes his hand with him, putting just enough space between us to make me question why he’s here in the first place. Puzzled, I busy my hands with the hem of my shirt.
“What is it?” My defensive walls click into place before I can remind myself that this is Sorin and he is on my side. Always.
Sorin shrugs before spinning the ring on his finger round and round. He’s nervous. Why is he nervous? Slumping forward, he rests his elbows on the tops of his thighs, looking straight ahead and not at me.
My stomach drops, my gnawing anxiety beginning its feast.
“When we were at the Onyx Guild, I noticed something interesting. Something I hadn’t noticed before we were separated,” Sorin says, his knee beginning to bounce.
The anxiety spreads, turning my insides out and my outsides prickling. It feels like ages before Sorin turns to me, the weariness I noticed before in his eyes I realize now is actually anger.
“Ink, permanently marked upon your skin.”
Swallowing thickly, I say nothing.
“I think I would have seen the mark before, considering how little we typically wear in each other’s company.” He doesn’t smirk, doesn’t laugh as he usually ends most conversations.
My skin heats, fire spreads across my chest and to the tips of my ears. For weeks in Valebridge there was no need to, no way for me to mask the ink on my neck. Not with the iron around my wrists and with how exhausted I was at the Onyx Guild, I must have let the mask slip.
He knows.
He knows.
He knows.
“So tell me,” he whispers, his knee stilling. “Why have I failed to notice this mark and why is it there at all?”
“I…” Biting my bottom lip, I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I shake my head and look away from him. I can’t see the pain that’s there. The anger. Not after everything he risked to come for me. Everything he’s risked to keep me safe.
“So, it’s true.” Sorin’s hand brushes mine. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, I do. “It’s true,” I admit.
Closing his eyes, he brings his palms to his face, rubbing at his jaw and forehead. He glances at me briefly before returning his gaze to the wall. “You took my debt from Grawgeth.”
“Yes,” I whisper
“And why is it that I never noticed?” Again, his knee begins to bounce as he spins his fathers ring around his forefinger.
“After the Wicked Wood everything happened so quickly. I didn’t expect for us to…” Flashes of memory of Sorin and I in our shared tent makes my skin heat further. “I didn’t want to upset you, so I masked it,” I admit, a wash of embarrassment sweeping across my skin. “When I realized that you came for me in Valebridge, I couldn’t…” I bring my hand to my chest to steady my heart and catch my breath. “There was so much going on with Galen and then Loxley and I couldn’t put another burden upon your shoulders.”
He closes his eyes, resting his chin on his folded hands.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of you being upset.”
“And what were your terms?” Sorin turns to face me. Our bodies, so close and yet he may as well be across the room. “What were your terms with the nymph, Elora?” His words are clipped, his face a stone wall.
Letting out a ragged breath, I grip the quilt in either hand, giving myself something tangible to grab onto. A reminder of where I am. That I am safe.
“Why does it matter?”
“What do you mean?” he snaps, standing from the bed. “Why wouldn’t it matter?”
I stand to join him, a flicker of annoyance breaking through the panic. “All that matters is that you’re safe.”
Hurt flashes across Sorin’s features. His face reddens, but his eyes show what he doesn’t want me to see.
He’s afraid.
“And what about you?” he asks smoothly, taking a step toward me. “What about your fate, Elora? If your soul is tied to the Wicked Wood, there will be no chance at an after life. No chance at living beyond the veil with Mother Gaia.”
“I was trying to save you.” I groan, scratching at my scalp. “The Wicked Woods play tricks on you. It messes with your mind, and if you hadn’t already noticed, my mind is already a mess. I did what I thought best at the moment.”
“Damning yourself isn’t saving me,” he says. “Am I just supposed to sit back and let you take my place in the Wicked Wood? And you purposely hid this from me?”
“What you’re angry about is the exact same thing you withheld. You didn’t tell me of your bargain until it was too late.” I cross my arms if only to stop my fingers from picking at each other. “Don’t for one second mistake my choice. Saving you wasn’t and will never be a mistake.”
His shoulders slump, the statement landing just as I intended. He takes another step toward me, so close now that the heat from his chest slams into me. “It was still reckless.”
“Well, you would know. You are the definition of reckless, Sorin.” Shaking my head, I give in and pick at my nails, finding focus on anything other than this conversation. “Trust me, I’ve had enough time in the dark to sit with my decision and how it affects the man I love, whether he’s an idiot or not.”
“What did you just say?” His words are a whisper. An unsure question transcending between us.
“That you’re an idiot.” Scoffing, I resume my place on the foot of the bed. “Of course, you’d find a way to make that flattering.”
“Not that part.” His voice is low and it sends the hairs on the back of my neck straight up. “Tell me again. What did you say?”
Tipping my chin with his thumb, our eyes lock. My stomach swirls again and this time, it isn’t the anxiety or the nerves. “I said,” I whisper, my gaze never leaving him, his hand never leaving my chin, “that I love you. I know it’s absurd considering?—”
“It isn’t.” He closes his eyes and the weight of my words settles between us. I don’t regret them, but I hadn’t thought of how it might change things. We haven’t known each other for long and yet… My skin prickles as Sorin reaches behind me and runs his fingers across the ink on the back of my neck.
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately,” I say, a smile breaking across my face. I have felt it for weeks, but at this moment, I’m certain I’ve loved him for many lifetimes. How else could I explain the dizziness he causes or the electric feel of his touch? The comfort and familiarity I feel in his arms, not to mention the countless times he has proven to me that I am enough, just as I am.
How could it be possible not to love someone like Sorin with his unwavering devotion and passion and?—
He smiles, his cheek dimpling, and my heart stutters. His smiles have been so few and far between these last few days, I bask in the warmth it brings me, proving every point I’ve just made to myself.
Sorin places a gentle kiss on my lips, and it’s the softness of it that makes my stomach dip. So much care in that delicate touch. Such finesse.
“I love you too, you impulsive, infuriating, perfect woman,” he whispers against my mouth, before his lips are on mine again, this time with much more fever. Parting my lips, I let him in, his tongue sweeping against mine coaxing a moan.
As he pulls me into him, his hands are everywhere. In my hair, on my hips. Stumbling forward, Sorin fiddles with the laces on my pants, and we both fail to see the desk before I’m crashing into it. Our kiss breaks for a moment, and before I can suggest moving to the bed, Sorin scoops me up and plants me firmly atop the desk. Then, his lips devour mine. Hands freeing my laces, he breaks away to shove my breeches off completely. Fisting the fabric of his shirt, I draw him into me.
He keeps his eyes on me as he slowly undoes the laces of his pants. Sweeping my tongue across my bottom lip, I watch as he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor.
Sorin says nothing as he lifts my shirt off of me, then my camisole. His hands land firmly on my hips, tugging me forward until I’m at the edge of the desk. I spread my legs and wrap them around him. He presses his length against my center, and my back arches on instinct but he makes no other move.
“I want to hear every sound.” His teeth scrape against my shoulder. “Every moan.” His tongue drags down my neck as his hands glide to the inside of my thighs, hovering just about where I want them. “And when you come for me,” he says, sliding his hand between my legs, his thumb rolling between my thighs. Moaning, I roll my head back but he’s quick to grab my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “When you come for me, I want to watch every second of it.”
His kiss is deep, claiming as I moan against his mouth. His hand slides back right where I need it between my legs, and I moan again, attempting to push my hips further to encourage his movements. He circles his thumb before his fingers find me.
Biting my bottom lip, I keep my eyes on him, just as he prefers, as he works my body in the way only he knows how. My stomach clenches, knots of pleasure forming deep in my center, before his mouth crashes into mine and I’m rolling over the edge. I don’t attempt to stifle my moan as I chase my release. My hips roll forward but with how I’m angled on the desk, it’s not much help.
Before I can catch my breath, Sorin removes his hand to grip the back of my neck. His other hand finds purchase around my waist, scooting me closer still, until finally, he slides into me.
Gripping fistfuls of his hair, needing him closer, I run my teeth and tongue over his neck. His body heats against mine as he thrusts into me, over and over again.
“ Fuck ,” he groans.
My eyes roll closed, savoring every inch of his skin that sears into mine. Every movement of his body, every muscled curve of his back. The desk rattles beneath me, the contents toppling off the side as Sorin’s thrusts grow more rapid.
I grip his shoulders, letting my nails rake against his skin. My need, growing stronger with each movement. I’m spiraling and not just from this physical connection we have but from something much deeper rooted. Something I can’t explain, and at this point, I don’t care to try because for whatever reason, we found each other. And maybe that’s enough. Love doesn’t need to be accompanied by a grand gesture for it to be significant. It doesn’t need to be loud or bold or dangerous.
It can be quiet. It can be comfort. It can be finding your home in another person and that can be enough. And it certainly doesn’t need to be years old to mean something. Even if this love between Sorin and I is new and fresh, it is still everything .
My body clenches, and Sorin must sense my shift, because before I can unravel, he pulls my hair back so my face is inches from his. “Let go.”
His words snap the last thread holding me together and my body shivers as my pleasure pulses through me. I cry out his name, making sure he can see my face as I do. Giving him just what he needs to find his own release. He’s close behind, a few more thrusts until we’ve both exhausted ourselves.
Bodies shaking, both of us hot from our movements, but neither of us dares to move. He dips his head until it meets mine, sticky with sweat and all. “My love for you is a desperate, maddening thing, Elora.”
Something in my chest stirs at his confession. Something both foreign and familiar. It thrums against my ribs, matching my heart beat for beat.
I push the hair back from his forehead and lean forward to kiss his mouth, soft and slow, just as he always does to me. We take our time kissing each other, the rush and surge of passion sated, allowing us the pleasure of basking in one anothers acceptances of each other.
But as Sorin kisses me, as his hands hold protectively against my back, I open my eyes and the room around us, before so foreign and new, suddenly feels as though we’ve been here for so much longer. I close my eyes again and a haze crosses my mind, foggy and mist-like.
Images of Sorin and I wane in and out, just as the dreams I had of him in the cells. Moments I don't recall living but that thing deep inside of me remembers.
Or perhaps it’s hope that I’m feeling.
Hope for a future that feels so far from here.
Sorin and I in the forest, a looming storm overhead. A flash of yellow feathers followed by laughter.
Then, a room I don’t recognize is filled with riches and grandeur. Fur rugs and duvets piled high.
My breathing hitches as the visions slam into me over and over, like tastes of our future. A teasing, happily ever after that’s just out of reach.
Sorin’s grip tightens around my waist and I’m snapped from the visions.
“I’m not done with you yet, love,” he whispers in my ear, scooping me up before walking and gently setting me on the bed.
My stomach flips with anticipation.
“And I’m still angry.” He bites my earlobe before pulling away. His body glistens under the light of the oil lamps as he towers over me, and I have a hard time focusing on where to look. Every inch of him is beautiful. And every inch of him is mine.
“But we will find a way to get out of your bargain,” he whispers, running his fingers down the tops of my bare legs. His fingers still, wrapping around my ankles lightly. “I promise.”
“And how will you have me now?” I ask in a whisper, propping myself up on my elbows and forcing myself to forget whatever just happened in my mind only moments ago.
Leaning down so his arms bracket either side of me, Sorin’s lips brush mine but he doesn’t kiss them before he whispers, “Turn around.”