“That depends.” Auren eyes me in concern. “Do you think you can travel?"
It’s tempting to say no because all I want to do is curl up on the bedroll, drink tea, and try my best to sleep through the worst of the cramping. That’s what I normally do at home. But as I gaze at the forest, I don’t think that’d be wise. “Isn’t it safer for us to keep moving? Won’t there be… creatures that might be attracted to the smell of blood?” I shiver at the mere thought.
His blue eyes meet mine evenly. “If you need to rest, Vivienne, we can stay. I will protect you,” he adds solemnly. “Besides, we also have Vaelen.”
At the sound of his name, the wolf pads over to us and nuzzles my side. He lies down next to me, and I stroke my hand through his soft fur.
Auren drapes his cloak around me again. “That should mask the scent of your blood a bit as well.”
Despite his reassurances, I think I’d prefer to keep moving. “I’ll be fine, Auren.” When he opens his mouth as if to protest, I quickly add, “Truly.”
We travel slowly, making several stops along the way. We follow the path of the river, through the forest, so that we have easy access to water.
Auren cares for me at every step. His attention never wavers as he makes tea to soothe my cramps, stands watch as I cleanse in the river and change out the strips of cloth, offering soft words of reassurance as he splays his palm over my lower abdomen, using his magic to ease the heavy ache deep within.
He wraps me in his cloak, holding me close against him, enveloping me in his warmth and his masculine scent. I can’t remember the last time I’ve ever felt so cared for.
When evening comes, he makes camp. I’m exhausted and although my cramps have lessened, they’re still very uncomfortable.
As we settle in the tent for the night, Auren tucks the blanket around my shoulders, making sure I’m warm. Vaelen curls up in the corner, and Auren carefully lies down beside me on the bedroll.
Staring into the darkness, I think on all that has happened today. I’d expected my Dark Elf husband to react to my situation with either disgust or awkwardness, and yet he did neither of those things. Instead, he was patient, caring, and so achingly gentle.
“If you need anything,” he whispers in the darkness, “do not hesitate to wake me.”
My heart clenches at his words. Although we’ve only known each other a short while, I’ve never felt as close to anyone as I do to him.
In the quiet intimacy of our shared space, I whisper, "Thank you, Auren. I’m… sorry if I was a terrible inconvenience today.”
“You are not an inconvenience, Vivienne. And there is nothing shameful in allowing someone to care for you. You’re my wife,” he says, voice low and tender behind me. “I will always care for you… for as long as you’ll let me.”
I open my mouth to speak, but emotions lodge in my throat, and I cannot speak around them. When we first met, I treated him so terribly. And after we wed, I resented him. At first, anyway.
But now? I sigh heavily. Now, I worry that I’m falling for this man—this Dark Elf soldier. If I’m being honest with myself, I fear that I’m already halfway in love with him. And this feeling is as unexpected as it is troubling.
CHAPTER 26
VIVIENNE
The pain pulls me from sleep in slow, relentless waves. Drawing in a careful breath, I press my hand to my stomach as I lie still beneath the furs, willing the worst of it to pass, but it only grows stronger.
It’s the middle of the night, but I need to change my cloth out again, and I’m desperate to rinse off.
Auren is asleep beside me. I touch his shoulder and whisper his name.
He wakes at once, and turns toward me, his eyes searching mine. “What is it?” he asks. “Are you okay?”
My chest tightens at his concern. “I need to go to the river again.”
“Alright.” He doesn’t question it or hesitate. “I’ll come with you.”
It’s been two days since my courses began, and Auren has been so gentle and attentive to my every need.
The forest feels different at night. The fire behind us has burned low, and the air has grown cooler, heavy with the scentof damp earth and the faint promise of rain. Every sound seems sharper in the quiet—the soft rustle of leaves, the steady movement of Vaelen at our side, the distant murmur of the river growing louder as we approach.
I draw Auren’s cloak tight around my shoulders, grateful for the warmth. When we reach the riverbank, he automatically turns his back to give me privacy.
The river gleams faintly beneath the thin sliver of moonlight filtering through the canopy above, its surface broken only by the gentle current. In the dark, I can see nothing below the surface. Thoughts of Kelpies and untold dangers fill my mind, and I hesitate at the water’s edge.
