Chapter 15
Alora
It’s been three days of misery.
Three days where I’ve had him riding behind me, touching me.
Three days of a smoldering blaze that has my thighs tense and me aching.
The heavy snow had made our journey long as the trails were covered.
Dahla could only move so far before we’d have to get off of her to clear the snow balls that formed on her legs and belly.
The snow eventually turned to sleet, followed by unending rain.
It is quite literally sludge we trudge through.
So it only makes sense that my mood is sour. I’m ready to be done with our journey and deliver this man to the council. I need to get him out of my system and be rid of his maddening presence.
He has started watching me more openly now when we’re not on Dahla. As we eat by the fires, while I talk with Lees and Caym, and when it’s just us alone in the early morning hours before the rest of the world wakes.
Even in my dreams I see his glimmering jade eyes, the pools so decadent I all but drown in them. He’s like the candle I know better than to touch, but do so anyway. The desire to feel the sting of the flame to see how long I can endure the pain, only to be swallowed by it entirely.
Gods I’m going crazy.
This energy between us is enough to keep me wound tight, causing a restlessness to course through my veins.
I worry the leather reins between my fingers, letting my mind swirl with thoughts of The Devourer. Lucid, wicked thoughts.
Today has been one of the longest days of our travels.
The woods have done enough to spook all of us on more than one occasion—whether it be phantom whispers coming through the trees, the sudden silence that lasts far too long, or just the feeling of being followed, watched endlessly as we traverse the paths of the forest..
Lees has, more than once, circled back to see if we had anyone stalking us, only to report that there had been no signs of anyone.
The trees here are the oldest part of the Siltar Woods, the most ancient. Like great wardens of the forest, waiting for a chance to stomp us out if we so much as dare to linger too long.
I haven’t begun to imagine what will happen once The Devourer is held by the council. I find myself not wanting him to be trapped in a dungeon to rot until the king decides to burn the world down to find him.
As far as any of us are concerned, he appears to be like a brother to King Euron. They’re constantly together and one doesn’t get their position that close to the king by luck or fate. No, longtime friendships form those bonds.
“So, Devourer, how did you befriend the king? Or were you born into your position?” The question is asked before I can shut my mouth.
A long silence ensues, only the snapping of twigs under Dahla’s hooves to be heard.
“You could say that I was born into what I am. However damned, as the fates decided me to be.”
The words have my eyes narrowing, he can’t see my face, but I’m sure he feels my back stiffen.
“Damned?” I draw the word out, letting the question stew in the air.
I duck beneath a heavy branch that is coated in snow, apparently too quickly because it smacks him in the upper body and I feel his hands jerk, gripping my hips to keep him in the saddle.
A laugh bubbles up, and I try to compose my face.
He lets out an unamused growl. “You did that on purpose.”
Any resolve I had left is stripped away and I let out an unladylike cackle.
Caym also starts chuckling from behind us.
“I was waiting for him to be knocked on his ass, I admit.”
Caym’s rough voice saws through any lingering embarrassment. He quickens the horse’s pace to take the lead, leaving us to follow after him and Leeson.
Lees and Caym’s forms grow smaller as the distance lengthens between us. We’re just out of earshot from our companions as an inhuman cry pierces the air, just to our right of the trail and stops us in our tracks. Dahla’s form tenses, and my familiarity with her warns me she’s about to bolt.
“She senses the spirits perhaps better than even we do.” A smokey voice breaks the silence that felt too loud after the phantom scream.
I lean forward and pat Dahla, in an attempt to calm her, feeling her tight muscles loosen with the touch.
“Yeah, she definitely does. She’s been through these woods enough to know we can’t remain in them any longer.
This damn snow has made it slower than I’d hoped to cross them.
” The tension stirs in my chest, not from The Devourer, but knowing what could happen if we strayed from the path or got too far away from Lees and Caym.
The saddle shifts slightly as my captive settles himself back into the seat. He scoots forward slightly, his thighs pressing against my bottom. Heat flares again in my core and I am once more imagining obscene images of his body and mine pressed together.
“Why do you say ‘damned by the fates?’” The whirlwind of energy bouncing around inside of me causes me to forget that I’d already asked him that.
The air continues to feel too heavy, as if the wood spirits are daring us to make a misstep.
“We shouldn’t be talking about this in these woods,” The Devourer whispers almost directly into my ear, the soft tickle of his breath causing a shiver to run down my spine.
“The fates and Goddess are not ones to tempt. Though the Goddess might be more prone to let us through without any tricks. It’s the fates I worry about.
They enjoy their games and tricks. They also enjoy the punishments they dole out and witnessing me suffer needlessly.
” The admission from him stirs my curiosity and I have to physically stop myself from turning around.
Slowly, I say, “You said damned before.” I turn my cheek, unable to resist the secrets he seems to carry. His lips brush my jawline, the warm flesh marking my chilled skin. I close my eyes and savor the warmth before pulling away.
I continue, as if my body isn’t reacting to his mouth, “If you won’t speak about the fates, at least tell me about that mark on your neck. The one you tuck away.”
His face leaves mine and he shifts again in the saddle, though from discomfort or unease, I’m unsure.
“My tattoo?” The flatness of his words only add to my interest in the man.
“Yes. I haven’t seen anything like it before. The way it seems to move like shadows trapped beneath your skin.”
He continues to pause and if only I could will the words from his lips. He’s woven his secrets like a hidden tapestry I yearn to unravel.
The ground begins to turn soggy as the air warms. The trail feels similar to how the streets of Astoria felt when they were laden with rain, suffocating. As if the road to our destination wanted to consume us, to keep us.
Though the weather is far warmer than yesterday, it’s still too chilly to remove my heavy cloak.
I duck my head under an evergreen bow that hangs low, lost in the silence between us and my own muddled thoughts. The Devourer must not have noticed the branch because with a loud thwack, he pulls me backward off Dahla.
The weight of my own body crashes against the steel of his muscled frame. I let out a strangled cry that’s cut short, my breath knocked out and my chest screaming.
In an instant, the form beneath me rolls, the jade—eyed man moving his arms under my ribs to hoist me up. His hands quickly are rubbing along my back as if he could draw the breath into my lungs by his touch.
I can’t help but notice how his sleeves pull away from his wrists, bloodied and raw, to reveal symbols I hadn’t seen before. The marks inky and pulsing, just like the one around his neck.
With a gasp, I’m able to draw in enough air to inflate my burning lungs. My vision quickly clears, the tiny black orbs disappearing.
I blink away any remaining fuzziness and search again for the strange markings. That’s when I notice his hand trembling. I look into his eyes and see something that wasn’t written in them earlier, something I’ve only seen once before… When I stood at the gallows.
“Are you alright?” His rushed, quivering question pops out of his mouth no sooner than I hear Leeson shout the same.
I nod, still trying to suck in enough air to make me feel grounded.
“I’m… I’m alright.”
Leeson hops off her horse and darts for me. She looks between us suspiciously, her eyes boring into our captive. “Did you mean to hurt her?”
He’s quick to answer, his voice still quiet and shaky. “I can assure you I didn’t want to harm her any more than I wanted to land my ass into soaking wet mud, let alone possibly break my neck in the process.”
I grab Leeson’s burgundy cloak and she faces me.
“I ducked beneath that big branch and didn’t give him warning. It smacked into him and he lost his balance. I was just unfortunate enough to fall with him.”
“You mean fall on me.” His words aren’t harsh, but spoken softly, more assured than before.
“Er… yeah. Thanks for that.” My voice reeks with noncommittal indifference.
Leeson brings her hand to my shoulder and squeezes. “Let’s not linger, unless you need to rest a moment?” Her eyes shine, weariness beginning to settle on her ivory face.
“No, we ride on. We’re almost to the outpost village, likely before nightfall.”
The village would be a welcomed respite. Though it has no lodging, it has other people, magical folk and non—magical. It offers a semblance of harmony in this rugged wilderness, where the spirits aren’t as tricky.
The Devourer still stands, stretching his arms and back.
“Leeson, I’m going to take off his culling bands, and the ones on his ankles. Perhaps this wouldn’t have happened if he had his hands free.”
She whips her body so quickly to face me, you could almost call her an apparition. Her stony face says it all, she thinks this is a bad idea. “Alora, you know I’m not one to question—”
“Then don’t. The only place he can run is right into these gods forsaken woods and join the spirits and daemons.”
She pauses and I can see her mulling the thought over.
“True. His death, if he’s so emboldened.” Leeson and her fierce braid snap back toward him. “You hear that, Devourer? Your death if you wander, and if you harm her, you’ll meet a worse fate.” Her lips quirk upward, the satisfaction of her threat written on her face before she gives us her back.
I make my way to Dahla, who just stands there as if inconvenienced by the last few minutes.
“You coming?” I clench my jaw with the prospect of him grabbing around my waist again. I’m merely apprehensive of my own body that seems to betray me every time we are close.
I feel his presence before I hear his reply, soft and tender. “If you’d have me.”
The words leave my heart skittering and other things blooming. The bastard.
“It’s apparently all I can offer after you so graciously let me fall on you, so thank you, I guess.”
I hear him chuckle, the sound muffled and short.
“Though I think the ground would have possibly been more forgiving than your… whatever you call that.” Waving my hands exaggeratedly in his direction, I can’t help but let my eyes skim across forbidden places. Gods.
“May I have your hands? I’ll need to unlock the bands,” I whisper. I remember the raw feeling that’s barely left my own wrists.
He slowly brings his hands to me and I can see the angry marred skin that threatens to split with the weight of the iron. An uncomfortable feeling settles heavily in my stomach. Are we just as bad as King Euron for using such methods?
The bands fall off with the twist of the small key I had tucked away in my pocket.
The Devourer rubs his wrists but doesn’t act like they’re as angry as they appear.
Snapping my eyes shut, I grab the saddle horn and lift myself back into the worn leather seat. A warm hand grasps my hip, causing me to wince.
“Are you hurt?” He’s looking up at me with his sea—green gaze, urgency spilling from him.
“No, no, I’m fine. It’s just tender.” I swallow down the lie. The truth is, my hip fucking hurts and it’s taking everything in me to not scream at being in the saddle.
He rolls his fingers over the fabric in an attempt to rub the soreness away.
“You’re such a beautiful liar. The way your tongue seems to drip honey.”
His hand slides down to my thigh and he grips the muscle before pulling himself on the back of Dahla.
“You’re such a rake.” I don’t know why I say it, but it feels like it needs to be said. Like I need to stir him into this fencing match of words. I yearn for his smart mouth to speak much like I’ve dreamed of his mouth on mine and those other sacred places.
He continues, “I’m no such thing. I’m rather a gentleman, if you could believe that.”
“That’s not something I’ve associated with you.”
“If I was a rake, I would so ungentlemanly sneak my fingers beneath your shift.” He sits forward, his fingers moving back to my hip, making gentle swirling motions. The other hand moving to my belly as I guide Dahla back onto the trail to follow behind Leeson.
Caym still rides ahead, unknown to him that The Devourer and I had just taken a spill into each others arms.
Leeson kicks her horse forward, in a rush to catch back up with him.
“If I was a rake, I’d put my lips to your neck and worship every star—kiss on your skin. I’d beg you to let me sink my teeth in while you clawed back.”
A whisper of a kiss falls on my exposed neck, the skin turning to gooseflesh.
I suck in a breath so sharp the gasp is audible.
“Whatever this is between us, it’s driving me mad. I don’t know what’s worse: knowing we can never be or knowing that you were very well made for me. It’s a cruel joke, us being on separate sides of fate.”
My insides suddenly turn cool. Wrong. Empty, and any lightness I had felt earlier leaves.
We are on separate sides of fate, and I think that kills me too.
The warmth of his hands abandons me and settles into his lap as he draws away.
The turmoil of my thoughts return, along with the stark reminder of how I’ve lost it all ricochets in my mind.
We ride on, aimlessly trailing behind our companions.
Loneliness once again crawls and creeps inside my rib cage. This time I don’t choke it down. Instead, I let it swarm and eat me from the inside out. Because it’s what I deserve.
It must be what the fates have predetermined for me. Because what else is my purpose in this forsaken land? Why else do I see Hanin’s face when I close my eyes?
The chilled air continues to cool, a fierce wind picking up and rages against my cheeks. I feel a cool drop of emotion running down my chin and move my hand to smear it away. I look to the sky and see it gathering shadowy overcast, though it hasn’t begun to rain, to my shock.
At least this time I can dry my tears before they cascade over.
Stone by stone, I build up my wall again.
I couldn’t save them, but I can save myself from ever hurting like that again. I won’t let my heart be unshielded again. It’s had enough fires to burn down any makeshift houses I’d built up time and time again.