Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

I drag my gaze to Evander, meeting his eyes. "Is it true?" The words are nothing more than a trembling whisper. Fear for what the answer might be nearly silences them completely.

"Faelyn, it…" The pause is unbearable.

"Yes or no."

Bardulf interjects himself. He's clearly getting too much glee from my torture to leave it be. "Didn't you ever wonder why you were so drawn to him? Why you so readily fell into the bed of a man you just met? You probably felt attracted to him from the very first moment you laid eyes on him, didn't you?"

I'm back in the tent on the beach, on the very first night. Wondering why I wasn't as disgusted as I should have been when he touched me.

"Most of us knights have the decency to try and suppress the charm. Especially around bitches the king is interested in."

"I said don't call her that!" Evander snarls and tries to move toward Bardulf again.

"Answer me!" I stop him with a sharp command. Evander looks back and his expression tells me everything. "It's true…isn't it?"

"It's not what you think," he tries to say hastily. "Faelyn, I would never?—"

"The first night you took me into your tent…" Goose bumps run up my arms where Evander touched me that very first night. Not from pleasure, now, but horror. I remember how good he felt. How much I wanted him, even then, despite myself. He was so ready to accept me when I propositioned him later. He had no problem taking me to his tent so I could… I thought it was just the pressures of Conri's charm weighing on us both. That they were actions of necessity. But, no.

I've been such a fool.

"I always thought, one day, sooner or later, I'd finally be able to show your true colors to Conri, Evander." Bardulf stands slowly, using the help of the tree he was just slammed against to get upright. "Show him that you couldn't be trusted. But I never thought this was how I'd be able to do it."

"Do you really think I'd do that to you?" Evander whispers, focused only on me.

"What am I supposed to believe?" I ask him. Anger and hurt vie for control of my words. One wants to scream. The other wants to say nothing at all. "You lied to me, Evander."

"No, no. I…I didn't tell you about the charm but?—"

"That's all I need to know, then."

"I can suppress it!" He takes a step toward me now. Not Bardulf. "Magic is a choice, always. I haven't been using it on you, I swear."

"You've fallen in love with the king's queen or tricked your way into her bed; either way, it doesn't look good for you," Bardulf says with glee.

I get no enjoyment from this. There's no satisfaction, twisted or otherwise, to this exposure. And his enthusiasm only makes me loathe Bardulf all the more. He doesn't care about me, he cares about taking down Evander and bringing me to heel. Evander only cares about… I don't have a clear answer. My heart and mind are too murky for it. The only thing I can land on is himself—Evander only cares about himself.

"How can I believe you when I already know you lied to me?" I ask Evander.

"I never lied to you." His tone has become pleading. He's begging for me to understand.

I don't. I can't. "A lie by omission is still a lie. You didn't tell me the truth and I wouldn't have known to ask. You had to have known that this was something I would've wanted to be made aware of. It's not fair to me otherwise."

"Faelyn…"

"If I were you, Evander, I wouldn't say another word until you stand before Conri. Save your breath to defend yourself. I think you're going to need it." Bardulf approaches, focusing on me instead of him. "Faelyn, Conri sent me because he sensed you returning to the plains and asked me to come and ensure you were well and to escort you back. If you would care to leave, we can go without Evander."

"I would," I say coldly. The only person I can trust is back with Conri—Aurora. She's the only one I should have ever listened to in this brutal world.

But, Aurora… She trusted Evander. Spoke well of him. She never mentioned the charm. Does that mean it's not real? Or that Evander is speaking the truth about suppressing it around me?

The only way to know for sure will be to ask her. Then, whatever Aurora says is what I'll believe. The sooner I get back, the better.

"Why don't you go on ahead, Evander?" Bardulf tries to wrap his arm around my shoulders. I step away with a glare, not about to let him think we're friendly. I might be angry with Evander, but that doesn't mean I suddenly like Bardulf. He just gives me a thin smile and returns his attention to Evander. "I'll finish escorting her to Den. I think she'll be safer with me."

"Conri told me to protect her, and to stay at her side. To look after her." Evander barely manages words, his jaw is clenched so tightly.

"What a job of ‘protecting her' you were doing." Bardulf takes another step closer to me. I take another step back.

"You're making her uncomfortable," Evander says on my behalf. I want to tell him not to, but I am still secretly grateful for him getting Bardulf to step away, even if I'm still disgusted.

"Here you are, trying to lecture me, like you have some moral high ground, when all I'm doing is trying to offer you the opportunity to save yourself. You really want the first word Conri hears of this to be from me?" Bardulf's threat is clear.

"I'm not leaving?—"

"Go, Evander," I interject curtly. Evander's attention swings toward me, his expression wounded, as if I were the one who had dug claws into his flesh. "Get to Den and mend yourself. I'll see you in a day."

"Faelyn…"

"I do not want you by my side." The statement is calm, cool. But I can see the havoc it wreaks within him. Evander takes a step back and visibly deflates. He said he'd always be there, as long as I wanted him. Well, now I've made it clear. I've drawn the line in the sand.

"I… Very well." Evander works to compose himself. It's marginally successful. "But I will see you tomorrow." He encroaches on Bardulf's personal space, Evander's muscular mass nearly encapsulating the other man. "I'd better see her tomorrow in one piece. If any harm comes to her?—"

"Unlike you, I haven't forgotten my oath to Conri." Bardulf glances at me. "Let's go."

"I'm not going anywhere until I get my clothes and my things." I draw my cloak tighter around me, glaring at them both. They both have the good sense not to challenge and I trudge back to the campsite Evander and I had made.

The blanket is still out. Indents of both of our bodies lay side by side like ghosts. With all the dignity I can still muster, I dress. And I work to ignore the memories somehow even my clothes fill me with—visions of Evander peeling them from my body that blend into the feeling of his hands on me. Him kissing me.

I dress faster and when I am done, I turn to face them both. "Right, then, let's go."

Bardulf steps forward. He still has a bit of a limp, but he's already recovering well. He changes into his wolf state and sinks low, clearly expecting me to climb on. The idea of riding on his back makes my stomach churn.

"You can't honestly trust him." Evander steals my thoughts, giving them sound.

"At least I know that with him," I hiss back. "You…I don't know what to think about you."

He takes a half step toward me, dipping his chin, locking eyes with mine. Unlike Bardulf, I don't move away. Even now, knowing what I know, there's no part of me that wants to move away from him. I'm still drawn to this man…but is it because of an instinct I can trust? Or a magic charm that pulls on my heart? I might never find out if I don't somehow get away from him and give myself a moment to clear my head.

"If you want or need me, all you need do is call. No distance will be too great, no power insurmountable. I'm not afraid of the cost, anymore, Faelyn…I will find you."

The sentiment would be sweet, were it not for the circumstances surrounding it.

"I will not call." I know the words will cause him pain—and they do—but I am wicked because I do not find it within me to care. The want to hurt him, as he has hurt me, is an ugly urge but an insatiable one.

Bardulf turns his head over his shoulder and lets out a gruff bark. I move for him, leaving Evander behind. Evander doesn't make any other motions for me. He stands there, watching, as I awkwardly position myself on Bardulf's back.

I sway slightly, struggling to situate myself as Bardulf stands. He's a bit smaller than Evander as a wolf. Leaner. It's awkward to hold on to him and difficult to figure out where I want to sit. Just being astride him fills me with an unwanted sense of intimacy.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I meet Evander's eyes once before Bardulf charges off into the night. All too soon, the trees and night obscure Evander completely and I feel as if a part of myself is being ripped from me.

Is this sensation the charm leaving me? Is it magic that I feel slipping from my being? Or is it the feeling of heartbreak I know all too well?

The wind batters my face as we emerge from the woods and out onto the plains. It pricks my eyes, drawing out salt. I try to fight the tears. I don't want to be so vulnerable around Bardulf. If it were up to me, I'd be completely alone right now. I'd go back to my hut, set a simmer pot over Folost, and spin Grandma's wheel until my own thoughts grew as orderly as the thread between my fingers.

But the comforts of home are a luxury I no longer possess. And they are not luxuries Aurora has had in centuries. I channel my pain and anguish into thoughts of her—into what I'm doing here in the first place. I'm going to save her. No matter what pain I feel, what heartache, it is only a tiny fraction of what she has endured.

With the dawn will come Den, and, once we arrive, I'm not holding back and I'm not wasting time. We're leaving Conri, the lykin, and Evander all behind.