Chapter 24
Elowyn
Ihadn’t gone back to the river in days. After my date with Philip, I’d felt off—drained, like he’d taken something from me without touching me. I spent the next day sleeping, too tired to move. I was only just starting to feel like myself again.
I sat on the porch, staring at nothing in particular. There was something going on that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Some part of me whispered that I should run, get as far away from this place as I could.
But I didn’t move.Another feeling, stronger, told me to wait. For what, I had no idea.
A noise caught my attention. Something blue flickered in the corner of my vision. Abram?
I sat up straighter, only to freeze when I noticed Farris standing there instead, staring at me.
“Farris.” I stood quickly.
Her lip was busted and bleeding, and she was looking at me like I was a stranger. My eyes traced over her injuries, something sharp twisting in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know where else to go, where he wouldn’t find me.”
She broke down crying, and I rushed to her, wrapping my arms around her.
“You don’t need to apologize. Come inside. I’ll spellbind the house so he can’t get to you.”
We hurried in. Farris collapsed onto the couch, staring into the fire as if it were the only thing tethering her to the room. I moved on instinct, laying wards along the walls, sealing the windows, locking the doors with old magic I hadn’t used in years.
When the last barrier settled into place, the house went quiet. Too quiet.
I sat beside her, close enough to feel the tremor still shaking through her body. Neither of us spoke. The fire crackled softly, filling the space where words refused to go.
After a long moment, she whispered, almost to herself,
“Have you ever been in love?”
She swallowed, her voice barely holding together.
“Like… really in love.”
What an odd question. Clearly, she was in shock.
“Yes.” I frowned.
“Me too,” she said softly. “With a man who thinks I am cruel.”
“Your husband?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, I have only loved one man. I think about him every day. I wonder what he is doing. Is he happy? Do I cross his mind often? Have I been replaced by a woman he deserves?”
Her tears came faster then, spilling freely as her shoulders curled inward.
“I broke his fucking heart,” she whispered. “And sometimes it feels like the heavens are punishing me for hurting someone so good. Like this is what I deserve.”
The words sat heavy between us. The fire cracked softly, indifferent.
I waited until she could breathe again before I asked, quietly,
“Why did you break his heart?”
“Because I didn’t have a choice, and he would’ve never let me go otherwise.” She leaned back against the couch. “Now I will never know what it feels like to be loved again.”
