Chapter 30: Everly

Chapter

Thirty

EVERLY

My eyes flutter open as I reflect on last night, wondering if it was real or just another vivid dream.

I lift my hand, touching my lips, and the memory crashes back.

Cenric kissed me.

My pulse throbs in my throat as I trace my bottom lip, still feeling the ghost of his touch, the warmth of his mouth, the slight scratch of his stubble against my chin.

It wasn't a dream.

It was real. Wonderfully, achingly real.

A giddy laugh bubbles up from my chest, and I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle it. I don't want anyone outside to hear me sounding like a lovesick fool.

But that's exactly what I am, isn't it?

The bed creaks as I roll to my back, staring up at the canvas ceiling. Sunlight filters through the flap, casting a warm glow over everything, as if the world is celebrating with me.

He kissed me!

After all these summers of yearning, of stolen glances and daydreams, Cenric actually kissed me. Not just a quick peck, either. It was deep and passionate, like he's been holding back as long as I have.

I close my eyes, reliving every moment. The way his hands cupped my face. How his lips moved against mine, coaxing them open. The taste of wine on his tongue as it danced with mine.

I curl onto my side, hugging my pillow close. I want to bottle this feeling, to keep it safe forever. This perfect moment where everything I've ever wanted has come true.

But reality creeps in like a chill wind. What happens now? Will Cenric act like nothing happened? Or worse, will he regret it?

I push those thoughts away, refusing to taint this moment. For now, I'll bask in the afterglow of that kiss.

I stretch, savoring the warmth of my bed a moment longer, then swing my legs over the side. The cool morning air bites at my skin as I stand. With a quick tug, I yank off my nightdress and reach for my surcoat. It takes a few seconds to pull it on and lace up the sides.

An exhale escapes me as I step out of my tent. The camp is already alive with activity, warriors immersed in their morning routines. I scan the crowd for a glimpse of long black hair and piercing blue eyes .

But Cenric is nowhere to be seen.

Part of me longs to see him, to confirm that last night wasn't a wine-induced fantasy. But another part is grateful for the reprieve, unsure how to act around him now.

Shaking off these thoughts, I walk to Morwen's tent. The smell of herbs and cooking fires grows stronger as I approach.

"Good morning, Everly," Morwen greets me as I duck inside. "I hope you slept well."

"I did, thank you."

Morwen tilts her head, studying me before returning to the pot she's stirring. "We're running low on firewood. Would you mind fetching some from the pile near the edge of camp?"

"Of course." I'm grateful for the task. It will give me something to focus on besides my swirling thoughts.

A cool breeze nips at my skin as I make my way to the edge of the camp. Tiny snowflakes dance in the air as I reach the woodpile.

Bending down, I gather an armful of logs. My muscles strain under the weight as I walk back to Morwen's tent, leaving a trail of footprints in the fresh snow.

"Here's the first load," I announce as I deposit the wood next to the cooking fire.

Morwen nods her thanks.

I turn and head out. The snow falls harder now, the flakes fat and wet. They cling to my eyelashes and melt against my cheeks as I make my way to the woodpile.

As I approach, I notice a warrior already there. It takes a moment to recognize Liam through the curtain of snow. He looks up as I near, a friendly smile spreading across his face .

"Morning, Everly. I thought you could use a hand with the firewood."

"That's very kind of you, Liam. Thank you."

He gathers an armful of logs. "It's no trouble. Besides, it'll go faster with the two of us, and I'd rather not see you out here freezing longer than necessary."

I smile at his thoughtfulness. "I certainly won't turn down the help. Though, I hope I'm not keeping you from more important duties."

Liam laughs, his breath visible in the cold air. "There's nothing that matters more than making sure our camp stays warm and fed."

Liam and I fall into an easy rhythm, carrying load after load of firewood. The snow continues to fall, blanketing the camp in white, but I barely notice the cold anymore.

"You remind me of Praxis," I say as we gather another armful.

Liam raises an eyebrow. "Praxis? That beanpole? I'm insulted. Clearly, I'm much more handsome and charming."

I roll my eyes. "Oh yes, clearly. How could I have missed it?"

"It's all right," he says with an exaggerated sigh. "I forgive you."

As we walk back to Morwen's tent, I study Liam. While he does share Praxis' friendliness, the differences in their builds are unmistakable. Where Praxis is tall and lean, Liam is shorter and a solid wall of muscle.

"Do you see something you like?" he teases.

"I'm just admiring your impeccable wood-carrying technique. "

"I've had many summers to perfect it."

"Is that so?" I grin as I shift the logs in my arms. "What makes you such an expert?"

"Natural talent, obviously." He winks. "And I've been doing this since I was a scrawny little thing."

I try to picture Liam as a scrawny child and fail. "I have a hard time imagining you as anything but the hulking brute you are now."

"Hulking brute?" Merriment dances in his eyes as he clutches at his chest with his free hand. "I prefer to think of myself as a finely sculpted warrior."

As we continue our trek back and forth from the woodpile, the snow eases. The wet flakes dwindle to a light dusting, then stop altogether. Weak sunlight peeks through the clouds, making the fresh snow glitter like a carpet of diamonds.

"It looks like the weather is on our side today," Liam says as he looks up at the sky.

"It's about time. I was starting to think my toes would never thaw."

We reach the woodpile once more, both breathing a bit harder from the exertion. As I bend to gather another armful, Liam speaks again, his tone more serious.

"You're fitting in well here, Everly."

I pause and look up at him. "Do you really think so?"

He nods. "I do. You work hard, don't complain, and you've got a good sense of humor. That counts for a lot around here."

His words warm me more than any fire could.

"Thank you, Liam. That means a lot, coming from you."

"I'm calling it like I see it." He shrugs. "Now, what do you say we finish up and see if Morwen has any porridge left? I'm starving."

"Lead the way," I say with a smile.