Perhaps it was the stress of the past day, or perhaps it was the sheer ridiculousness that Xander thought I was attractive, but I giggled. Memories of whispers and tidbits I’d gleaned for too-loud servants flooded through me. I might have been sheltered, but I knew what that hardness meant.
My quiet sounds of amusement soon dissolved into raucous laughter as all my emotions seemed to push out of me at once.
Grief for Josephine’s untimely death mingled with a deep sense of relief that we were still alive. Thankfulness that I was not in Remington’s clutches danced alongside the odd sensations that being so close to Xander brought forth within me.
Beneath it all, I felt a writhing deep within me. Warmth pulsed within my core. It was new and not entirely unpleasant.
And it was because of him. Xander.
The male in question pressed up against my back.
Something had changed in me earlier today, and I knew I would never be the same. I wiggled, my laughter giving way to silent gasps of air, as Xander shifted behind me. He clicked his tongue, and Thunder began to move beneath us.
Warm breath tickled my neck as Xander leaned in close. “Aileana,” he growled, “for the love of all that is good in this world,pleaseat least try to keep still.”
I sucked my lip through my teeth, trying to ignore the way riding with Xander felt soright.
“I’ll do my best,” I finally forced out through tight lips.
“Thank you,” he said.
We fell into a companionable silence as Thunder galloped through the forest.
* * *
Soon, I couldn’t have spoken if I had wanted to. Stormflier and Thunder seemed to make it their goal to move as fast as possible through the dark woods. I held on tight as they raced towards our destination. The storm had cleared, leaving a starry night to guide our way.
Led by the light of the moon, the horses seemed to know exactly where we were going. The thought was comforting because everything looked the same to me.
I vowed to learn what each and every tree and plant in Ithenmyr was named. The newness of being free from my tower was turning into something more. I was learning so much about the country in which I lived—both good and bad things.
Eventually, the movement of the horses lulled me into a restless sleep. I saw the faces of the dead behind my closed lids. The Winged Soldiers. Jo. The human slave. The Earth Elf. And behind them was another face.
My own.
I stared into my lifeless eyes, my red hair flung all around me. My face was paler than a piece of paper as I lay prone on the forest floor. Like a discarded doll, my limbs were haphazardly placed all around me.
My gaze dropped and my breath caught in my throat as my heart pounded in my chest.
Not real.
Not real.
Not real.
Every beat seemed to echo this call, and yet… this looked far too real.
A long, smooth cut ran beneath my jaw, from one ear to the other. Blood was everywhere. My blood. It streamed from the cut of my neck and coated the forest floor. The land itself seemed to mourn my passing as distant thunder roared overhead.
And then a branch snapped, and the horrible scent of sandalwood filled my nose. My lungs seized and my hands grew clammy as High King Edgar’s voice became the only thing I heard. “The only thing that comes to pets who escape their owners is death.”
I couldn’t help it. I screamed.
“Aileana, are you okay?” Xander’s voice rumbled through me as he pulled me tight against him.
His voice was softer than normal, not as barbed. Something else had shifted that evening between us, something that I didn’t want to acknowledge. It felt heavy, frightening, and wholly consuming.
Hating this male had been simple. Clear-cut. Easy to understand. I was good at hating. Hating was like an old tunic that you put on after a long day. It conformed to your body, slipping over every curve and instantly knowing exactly how to hug you. Hatred was comfortable. It was an old friend. It fed me with the fire of a thousand flames.