37. THIRTY SEVEN

thirty-seven

DRAGONS AND DANGEROUS MEN

I freeze, as if I stay still enough, I may fade into the shadows. But Darian takes a step forward into the room, thawing whatever had me stuck to the spot I’m in near the desk. I backpedal until I hit one of the windowed walls behind me, and he charges toward me. Racing around the farthest side of the desk from him, I dash for the exit, knocking over books and knick knacks on the bookshelves in my staggered gait.

He hisses right behind me, “Stop!”

I get to the settee first, snagging one of my heels and spinning to him, knowing I can’t outrun him and readying myself for a fight. Perhaps I should’ve considered the original heels the shopkeeper picked out for me—they would’ve been far sharper.

Darian pauses, watching me as if I were a caged wild animal. “ Why are you in here?”

I take a few steps back from him and trip over the edge of the settee’s clawed feet, falling back onto my ass. If I weren’t so drunk, I may even be embarrassed.

He closes in on me. “Stop trying to run from me. You’re going to hurt yourself — ”

Still sitting on the ground, I chuck my shoe at him, pathetically missing his head by a few inches. Not sure if I should blame my intoxication or poor skills in throwing.

His gaze follows the heel’s path over his shoulder with a laugh. “You missed.”

I snag the other one off the ground and throw it at him, this time hitting him square in the jaw while he’s distracted.

He turns a glare on me and lunges again.

I scramble backwards on my hands and feet for the door. But my movements are too sluggish, too inaccurate.

“Wait! Godsdammit, you impossible woman,” Darian hisses.

My sweaty hands slip right off the polished floor, and I slam back onto the ground, my head cracking against the marbled tile. Black spots explode in my vision, my breath ripped from my lungs, followed by a screaming pain in my skull.

Darian drops down to a knee beside me as he holds out a hand. “Fuck. Are you alright?”

I glance at his hand, then back at him. There’s two of him, then three, and then one. My dizzying, pounding head steals all of my sense of urgency. I shouldn’t trust him…but the way the moonlight shines in his eyes. How shadows drag across the angles of his jaw and nose…I don’t want to admit it. But in this light he is… gorgeous.

“Let me help you up,” he whispers.

I see no way out of it, can’t think much around the wicked sharp throbbing in my head, so I reach for his hand. He closes his strong, calloused fingers over mine, and pulls me up off my back to my feet. Leaning a little too hard into him for support, I fall into his arms, before I’m trying to right myself back into my own stance.

Our eyes link.

The light of this room is far too intimate. He clears his throat, and I take my hand out of his.

“You’re really drunk, aren’t you?” He snorts, grabbing my forearm to steady me when I start to lean again. “I told you not to drink all of that.”

“No, I’m fineee,” I lie and try to school my features.

“Can you even walk?”

I try to playfully smack his arm and miss. Terribly. I jolt forward, and he catches me once more.

“I’m just really…really dizzy,” I finally admit. The more time that passes, the worse it seems to get.

With a sigh, he sweeps me off my feet and up into his arms. My breath catches in my throat, my cheeks flushing at the tenderness of it. Averting my gaze away from his face, I brush a thumb over the midnight blue of his jacket.

He looks ahead as he walks us out of the room and down the hallway. “Do you know where your room is?”

My laugh comes out squeaky. “No. Do you?”

He grumbles in response, “I suppose we’ll walk around the castle until you can confirm which room yours is then.”

“What if…I can’t?” I grin up at him.

He raises an eyebrow at me, already recognizing what I’m implying, before looking back at the path ahead. “I don’t do sleepovers.”

“Who said anything about a sleepover?”

He clears his throat, still not looking at me. “I also don’t fuck drunk women. Not my thing.”

I sag head against his chest, his heartbeat murmuring against my ear. Every glance away from him ties my stomach into knots, the hallway flashing by at a nauseating speed. Instead, I train my eyes on him, admiring the elegant and precise edges of his cheekbones, his jaw, and scarred neck.

“You’re staring,” he calls me out and flicks his gaze down to me. When our eyes connect for a moment, a hint of a smile winks at his lips before it disappears.

He darts his attention away from me, a forced irritation rumbling in his chest. “What?”

The words fall out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I love it when you smile like that.”

He whips another look at me, his mouth parted. “You—” He shakes his head and is back to scanning the hallway. “You’re drunk.”

“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“Now’s not the time for revealing all your deepest, darkest secrets, kitten.”

“Well, I need to tell you this one anyway…I’m sorry.”

He flinches, squinting down at me. “What? Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry for using your sister against you at the battle of Blackfell. I manipulated you. That was wrong of me, and I’m truly sorry. I’ll never...”

The ceiling above us threatens to collapse as it spins tilted circles. The pounding in my head roars over the sound of my throbbing heart, and my stomach tenses. I squeeze my eyes shut to give my brain a break, to escape the spinning and swirling before I vomit.

It’s dark. Peaceful.

“I’ll never…do that…again,” I whisper, fading into the darkness beckoning me forward like an old friend.

“Don’t close your eyes,” Darian commands.

But it’s too late.

“Hey…stop! Kitten! Open your eyes!” His voice sounds miles away. “ Fuck …Katerina!”

The last thing I remember is the warmth of him against me.

Fire races across the floor. Or am I looking up at the ceiling? There’s no wooden beams here to criss-cross above me, but the sound of wood still creaks and groans…or is that noise coming from me?

I turn to my side. The room swims and spins as my stomach drops.

Flames dance in a fireplace across the room, scattering shadows across the marbled floor. I cringe—the fire melds and transforms into the grimaces of all the people I failed to save. They stare back at me, haunting me. Holding a hand up to block my face, I turn away with a cry. An ominous whisper grows louder, ringing over and over in my ears:

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

Secrets never die, they’re just buried in a grave.

“Shhhh,” someone hushes across the room. A dark silhouette slinks out from the darkness, a trail of shadows in its wake.

Darian steps into the light, surveying me with arched eyebrows. He follows my fixed stare to the hearth, strides over to it, and extinguishes the fire. My eyes are still glued to the hearth, waiting for it to reignite and consume me.

Darian slowly sits on the bed next to me, his midnight coat from earlier is gone, leaving him in a loose shirt. With reluctance, he strokes my hair to calm me. The movement so gentle. His lingering gaze is tender and delicate. I’m not sure what is real and what isn’t.

Then there’s three of him. Their eyes fading back and forth between an otherworldly white and forest green as horns sprout from their heads. They all shush me as I slip back into the darkness.

Screams ricochet around me as I clench my hands tight to my ears. I’m screaming back, but they don’t stop. The oranges, yellows, and whites of a wicked flame merge into a blur of red. Molten drops of crimson fire morph into something more sinister.

Blood.

My mother appears in front of me, but her eyes are blank—a whiteness clouding her irises and pupils. She reaches out a hand toward me, and I run away, but everywhere I turn, she’s there. Blood drips from the corners of her eyes, racing down her cheeks until she melts into a puddle of blood and bone. Spinning away from her, I find the little girl, her hand still clenching her doll. The next direction I turn to, my brother calls from the depths of a river, his blank eyes ghostly white near the water’s surface.

Stop it! I beg.

My mother’s words echo, clear as if they were a bell. High-pitched, frequent, ringing and ringing.

In death blood is shed, but from blood there is life.

In death blood is shed, but from blood there is life.

In death blood is shed, but from blood there is life.

The rebel I killed all those nights ago appears, a gaping wound in his chest where I pierced him with his own sword. He lunges for me, and I barely dodge him.

Leave me alone! I scream.

I search for Daeja, panic-stricken. I don’t know where she is. The rebel chases after me, grabs hold of my forearm, and tears me to the ground. I crawl away from him, but he seizes me by the ankle and drags me back to him as I scream.

An arm wraps around me, tight, and I squirm against it.

Don’t take me, please don’t take me.

But then I’m rocked, back and forth. A soft hum brushes my ear, a whispered breath against my neck. The hums drive the screams away, and everything evaporates. Like snow melting from the sun.

“You’re okay. I’m right here, and I’m not leaving.”

The pain equivalent to an ice pick slamming in my head, repeatedly, greets me when I wake in the morning. My whole body is wrung from its strength, even opening my eyes is a strain. Golden light washes into the room, shining directly into my face and blinding me.

Where…am I?

I sit up quickly. A little too quickly. The room spins around me and triggers a wave of nausea. I pull my knees up to my chest and rest my forehead against them until the dizziness subsides. Glancing up when I feel safe enough to do so, I find luxurious blue sheets and duvets wrap me in layers. The footboard of the bed is wrought iron twisting up high into brilliant curved pillars.

Last night’s events all swim back to me slowly, though, most of it comes in blurry pieces. The dancing, Archie and mussels, Celeste and Cole—the last thing I remember is Darian carrying me out of the office I stumbled into.

Wait…is this his bed?

Ripping the sheets off my legs, I find myself still in the gown from the night before. My attention then darts over to my hand holding the blankets open, and the sleeve covering my forearm.

Wait…my dress didn’t have sleeves. And the midnight blue, gold trimmed material was dazzlingly familiar. I survey the coat I’m wearing and confirm it’s Darian’s.

My mind races trying to recall everything that happened. The way he watched and taunted me. The way he spun me in circles on the dancefloor, chandelier lights flashing around us.

I glance over to the right side of the bed to find it untouched—still folded neatly up to the layers of cushioned pillows. Peeking over the edge of the bed, I find a throw blanket pooled on the ground with a spare pillow. My gaze travels across the marbled floor and up to the fireplace, stirring the distant memory of my nightmares and the fire crackling in the ornate stone hearth.

Across the room from me is a span of large skinny windows framing rolling hills and Dragon’s Back Ridge. Another set of windows arch above them in a dome of skylights. A velvety blue settee lined in gold faces the windows. As if someone would sit there and stare out at the breathtaking expanse beyond.

Leaned up against the farthest left window is an easel with a painting and a cup with tattered paintbrushes underneath it. Swaths of black clash into bursts of blues and purples on the canvas, white freckled across the dark in varying sizes and depths.

A night sky.

I slip out of the bed for a closer look, the marbled floors cold under my bare feet. As I draw near, the brilliant details come into focus. A mountain’s silhouette is hinted at the bottom of the painting. It’s the view of Dragon’s Back Ridge from these same windows. The sky is mottled in brilliant dark hues, stars glittering against the shadows. The only imperfection is a spot at the top. A shooting star is smudged across the top of the canvas, but a furious swipe of black muddies the brilliance of it. As if someone tried to instantly blot it out.

On the ground and resting against the wall is a large cloth draped over some sort of frame. I pluck the cloth and pull it away a few inches to see what it covers. A gold curled frame shimmers in the light. Peeling the cloth off the rest of the way, I let it fall to the ground in ripples. The painting is massive, and I have to take a few steps back to fully study it.

A woman with long, brown waves sits in a luxurious, burgundy silk dress, with matching gloves reaching up her arms. Sitting on her lap is a little girl with golden brown ringlets, her sparkling blue eyes round with innocence. Bows are tied into her hair, matching her light pink frilly dress. A teddy bear is tucked into her arm with similar bows tied onto its ears.

Standing behind them both is a young boy dressed in dark formal attire. My heart skips a beat at the swipe of long, brown hair and those forest green eyes. Except, they are void of the malice and hardness I’ve come to know. A soft hint of a grin pulls at his boyish lips.

But what makes me shiver is the woman—his mother. Where there should be pupils and irises, is an expanse of ghostly white. It’s oddly chilling compared to the intricate details of the rest of the subjects. It makes her look…haunting. Inhuman.

I stare for a little while, before an uneasiness creeps up on me, as if I’m looking at something I shouldn’t be. Quickly, I pull the cloth back over the painting.

My stomach growls in a gnawing hunger. I find my shoes near the bed, slide them on, and drape Darian’s jacket on the settee. Much to my relief, and despite not knowing the layout of the palace and my current location, I make it back to my room without garnering any attention.

I change out of my dress from the night before and into the modest dress I wore to Windmere with Celeste. Dragging a brush through my hair, I splash water on my face and head back out of my room. Winding through the hallways, I find the hall table I drunkenly crashed into last night. I adjust a picture I left upside down, and continue toward the great dining hall.

Archie bounds toward me once I join the rest of the group gathered in the dining hall, his eyes bright.

He hugs me from the side, his arm looped around my neck. “Good morning, sunshine! You’ll never guess what happened after you left.”

“After I left?”

“Yeah! I went and talked to Melaina. I told her how I felt.” Archie bites his bottom lip. “We uh…we kissed.”

“Archie!” I swat his arm playfully and hiss, “You shouldn’t kiss and tell, you scoundrel, you!”

He blushes and ducks his head. A smile spreads on my lips as I squeeze his shoulder. I scan the rest of the room and catch sight of Darian off at the breakfast buffet table, piling fruit and pastries onto a tray. He turns to walk toward me. When he sees me, he grins and slows, motioning toward the tray in his hand.

I excuse myself from Archie, grab a glass of water and a pastry, before taking a seat at the table across from Darian.

“Wow…” I start, taking a bite of the pastry I grabbed. I survey the heaping amounts of fruit, cheese, bread, and pastries piled on his tray. “Quite the appetite you have there, huh?”

He blinks up at me and smiles that devilishly handsome smile of his. “Guess you could say enough for two people. I intended on eating it in my room, but there was a change of plans.”

A shiver snakes down my back at the thought of it all, had I stayed put. Darian, bringing me breakfast in bed. In his bed. Where there were paintings and sweeping views of Dragon’s Back Ridge. It was all so…personal?

A shuffle of feet approaches us from the corner of the room. A guard holds out an envelope for Darian, bowing his head. “Mr. Raventhorn.”

Darian rips open the red wax seal and scans through it. I’m so tempted to snag it from him, wondering what on earth he could be getting correspondence for. Especially if all of his previous letters were addressed from Celeste.

His jaw tenses, the color draining from his face. He quickly folds the letter and stands with a suddenness that makes me flinch. Without a word, he turns and strides out of the room, his tray of food untouched. I watch him go as Celeste sits next to me.

“What a terrible waste,” Celeste murmurs and motions to Darian’s tray.

“Will he…not be coming back?”

“I’m not sure. Sometimes he’s gone for days. Sometimes weeks or months. It all depends.” She takes a delicate bite of berries with a fork.

I finally tear my gaze away from the door where Darian disappeared and back at her. “Depends on what?”

She shrugs. “I’m not sure. He never says, and I’m not the one he tends to share information with.”

I grab some grapes off his tray as Melaina sits across from us, and Celeste’s eyes narrow in on her.

“Sooo…” Celeste starts casually, a hint of suspicion in her tone. “You had quite the night last night, huh?”

A blush blooms on Melaina’s cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t have to fool me. I know you were with Darian last night.”

I stiffen, hoping Celeste doesn’t notice.

“I was not.” Melaina glares with an arched eyebrow.

“I saw you two dancing after dinner. And I heard someone in his room last night. And I know you two—”

“Stop it. It wasn’t me. I may have gotten a little carried away last night, but it wasn’t with Darian,” Melaina bites back before Celeste can finish.

Celeste’s eyes widen as she leans forward, and I follow suit.

“I kissed Archie,” Melaina whispers.

“What?” Celeste exclaims.

Melaina shushes her, before stealing a glance over at Archie who’s already watching us. He smiles and waves before he turns his attention back to Cole.

Celeste raises an eyebrow. “Who was with Darian then?”

Melaina scoffs. “How should I know?”

“You know what? Good for you,” Celeste says finally and leans back approvingly.

I grin at Melaina. “I think he really likes you.”

“Sounds like we need to return back to camp early. Carlisle sent word there’s been some suspicious activity near the lake,” Cole says behind us.

I whip to him, our eyes meeting. Daeja. I got so drunk last night, I hadn’t checked in with her, and my heart races to a gallop.

“Daeja? Are you okay? Cole is saying there has been activity near the lake and I thought–”

“I haven’t been practicing flying, if that’s what you’re asking. So don’t bother scolding me.”

“Have you seen anyone?”

“Not since I heard from you last. It’s been relatively quiet here since you’ve been gone.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t check in with you last night, I’ll be there tonight to see you—”

“You better bring me extra chicken. I expect a whole carriage full.”

Celeste pouts and says something about a short visit. Cole assures her we can come back once we secure any threats. Melaina watches the back and forth between Cole and Celeste, and Archie stands right behind Melaina, his palms perched onto her chair casually.

Cole pulls my chair out from the table. “I’m sorry we must leave earlier than intended. But thank you for hosting such a wonderful evening.”

As I stand and move for my room, Cole snatches my forearm. My gaze falls to where his fingers wrap around me, then back up at him. Everyone else’s eyes fall onto us.

Cole pauses, his mouth parted, yet nothing comes out. He clears his throat, changing his mind about whatever he was going to say. “We need to leave quickly. Meet me outside at the carriage.”

Once I get back out to the carriage, Archie, Cole, and Melaina are there waiting. Celeste watches us go from the front doors, disappointment painted on her delicate features.

My jaw flexes as Archie slides in next to Melaina, and Cole takes a seat next to me. The bench isn’t quite long enough to accommodate Cole’s large physique and me, without our thighs brushing. His hands rest on his thighs, dangerously close to mine. Movement sparks through his fingers, the veins under his skin dancing with each nervous drum against his leg.

As we jerk to a roll, the movement of the carriage shimmies our bodies together. My knees bump into Cole’s, despite trying to tense my legs from doing so. Thankfully, Archie fills the silence with conversation of Helmbrook and his family. I stare out the window, daydreaming of flying through the trees on Daeja’s back, away from here and to the Dragon Lands. While I missed my chance of getting a map in Windmere, I decide I’m done waiting for the perfect opportunity to go to the Dragon Lands. I’ll do so without a map.

We only need to get to the next day.