“Come on, let him sit in the back,” Fray says as every eye in our party stares in surprise.
Purple mist ripples from Malin to dive underneath the carriage, where it displaces the fog to rustle within a pile of leaves until it uncovers a pine branch, which comes hurtling over to connect with Lars’ chest. He shakes his head at Malin as he snaps the branch into smaller pieces and stows them within his pockets.
I send tendrils of curiosity into Lars’ body, where fear and anxiety reign supreme, then siphon just enough before imbuing him with confidence. I retract my power once his face returns to its typical pallid shade. He and Malin share a meaningful glance before he spins to grab hold of the handle on the side of the carriage, which rocks to the side as he pulls himself up to the front bench.
Fray shrugs and climbs inside, followed by Malin, who sits on the opposite bench from him. I glance over at Varic and wait for him to take his own exterior seat, when the corner of his mouth rises in a small smile meant just for me.
He extends his hand in offering, and I mirror his expression. My hand shakes as I move to place it over his, then revel in the warmth radiating through my fingers. We step together, and he tenses his hold, ushering me up the small set of stairs to enter the space which will separate us for the first time since Fray flew me away.
A strange, prickly feeling crawls beneath my skin, with dread rapidly increasing my heartbeat in anticipation of our parting, keeping me from savoring the feeling of our rarely condoned contact.
He squeezes my hand as I bend to keep from hitting my head. Heat spreads across my side as Varic shifts to brace my hips, and I pause so long that Fray and Malin stare up in amusement.
I slowly inch forward, relishing in his touch as he leans in to keep hold of me, seemingly not wanting to let me go as much as I do not wish for him to do so.
His fingers glide along my side as I turn to sit in the middle of the back bench, ensuring I will not easily see out the window overlooking where he will be guarding. His opposite hand slides down my arm to keep hold of my hand, imbuing me with warmth I do not wish to lose in his absence.
A thrill jolts through my heart when his eyes ensnare mine. Because we are being too obvious. We cannot continue to behave like this. We cannot allow our gazes to linger more than expected. I force out a breath, and a sense of loss expands within my chest the moment I extract my fingers from his.
“Thank you.” My voice is low, and I clear my throat, trying to shift my tone from sounding so sultry.
A knowing smirk rises on one side of Varic’s annoyingly striking face as he backs out of the cabin.
Cirrin raises his brows when he climbs in next to take his seat opposite me, and I offer him a sigh in response.
Words are exchanged outside, and I turn with a pang in the center of my chest when Drusilla’s short white fingers curve to fit within Varic’s hand. Her gray eyes snatch hold of mine, and I make the mistake of staring as a satisfied sneer overtakes her long face.
An uncomfortable heat spreads up from my stomach, feeling like a Dragon about to breathe fire, with no amount of my power being capable of decreasing the level of toxic envy coiling its way from my heart to infiltrate my veins.
I clench my jaw so hard the ache is the only thing keeping me from screaming when I stare at the way his hand flexes within her grasp as she finally climbs inside. She swivels to sit across from me and extracts her hand to neatly fold it in her lap.
I clench my fists to keep from reaching forward to pry her hands apart, then make her wash them in freezing cold water. Because she doesn’t get to have him. She doesn’t deserve to keep any semblance of his warmth.
I tear my eyes away and stare down at the floor. My cheeks heat with the need to better control my reactions. It is not safe for me to behave so possessively. And I do not know his history. I do not know how many others might have given the same smile he shares with me.
Envy prickles under my skin with the thought of anyone else experiencing him the way I have. The expert way he touches me, bringing me such comfort, meaning he has undoubtedly done the same with many others, and far more intimately. And since I am strictly forbidden from fulfilling his physical needs, who am I to claim him as my own when he cannot be? Not really.
But he is mine. And I do claim him. He and I are blood-bound. He is mine for life. However long we survive. Varic is bound to me, and I to him—just not in the way I would wish. Not in the way he would only desire because I am the one who was sent to save him.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Varic says.
I nod at my lap while doing my best to avoid looking up at him. Then my eyes widen as the carriage tilts from Varic leaning in. He braces a hand on the bench where I sit. So close, his thumb presses into the excess fabric of my dress.
“Are you okay?” he asks with a hint of amusement.
I clench my jaw to keep from speaking and fail to ignore the weight of his gaze, which beckons with unnatural power to get me to meet it.
I don’t know who I think I am. I cannot fight this. So I give in and lift my eyes to his—awestruck by the ethereal glow of the sun casting through the fog outlining his frame and obscuring the majority of his face aside from a strip of light shining over his eyes.
“Just knock on the glass if you need anything.” I nod and turn away again.
But he won’t have it. He moves dangerously close—until his eyes find mine through the shadows beneath the light through the windows.
His presence alone holds me in this spell I have no hope of breaking. “I mean it. Promise me you will say something if you need to stop for any reason.” His expression is so earnest, I cannot possibly lie to him.
“Thank you.” My voice comes out gritty until silence grows between us.
He draws back, and the sun finds his eyes. “Please, do not make yourself suffer unnecessarily.”
