23. Saoirse

Saoirse

A n hour later, we were entering the wellsprings, on a mission to tame my hair, per Vane. I couldn't see what a man with dreadlocks would know about washing a woman's hair, but at this point I was desperate to do anything that might help me avoid the wrath of my parents, even a little bit.

Entering, we weaved my favorite pattern that would lead us to the back pool. Every spring we passed was occupied. When we approached my usually empty favorite, my stomach dropped, the joyful sound of children splashing and chattering floating to my ears.

"Shit," I hissed. This was the only pool with multiple sections, and picking a pool closer to the front was risky if someone happened to spot Vane and his shadows.

"Is there another one we can use?" Vane questioned, realizing why I'd stopped in my tracks. I shrugged, already walking ahead of him. We moved down the row, to the furthest point away from the entrance, until we finally found a wellspring that wasn't already claimed .

"Looks like it's just this one," I said nervously to him. "Let me bathe quickly, and then you can go. That way I can keep watch."

Vane nodded, stepping back to give me some semblance of privacy. The wellspring was warm, tantalizing tendrils of steam rising gently from the water's surface, inviting me to step in. I stripped off my clothes, folding them neatly on a nearby rock, before slowly lowering myself into the spring, inch by lovely inch. The warmth enveloped me like a hug, easing the tension in my muscles, soaking my hair through immediately.

I submerged myself, trying to wet my hair thoroughly, hoping it might help me untangle the damned thing. It didn't. I rubbed the soap I had brought from the bakery on it, the bar of purple and blue coating the hair, exactly like Vane had said to do. Every attempt to run my fingers through the messy curls met painful resistance, even when I tried to hack at it with my comb. A frustrated growl escaped my lips as I yanked at a rough knot.

"You okay in there?" Vane's voice called from the edge of the wellspring, concern lacing his tone.

"Yes, just—my hair. It's impossible. Even with the soap," I muttered.

There was a pause, and then Vane spoke again, hesitation in his voice. "Do you… I can help you, if you'd like. It's oftentimes easier to untangle when you have a helping hand."

My eyes looked to the sky, the sun's position telling me I didn't have much time left before I'd need to be on my way to the castle for dinner. There was no time to sit here and fight with my hair. I weighed his suggestion. It was one thing to bathe near each other in the connecting pools, but another thing entirely to let him near me while I was in my most vulnerable state, with something so intimate.

But if it meant I wouldn't be late, wouldn't give anyone an excuse to judge me more than they already do, then maybe it was worth a shot.

I still hadn't decided how I felt about Vane, but I was certain he didn't mean to harm me .

"Fine," I said after a moment, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just—don't look. One peek and I will find a way to separate your eyes from your skull." It was an empty threat—we both knew he could best me in a fight without even lifting a finger. But the small chuckle he let out complimented the ghost of a smile I wore.

"Promise," he said, and as I turned to face away from the entrance, I heard the rustle of clothes that meant he'd entered the cavern.

He hesitated again. "It would... it would be easier if I get in. Your hair is so long, and I don't want to hurt you. The better the angle I have, the better it will feel."

I nodded, not saying a word, unsure that I could over my tongue, which suddenly felt like a lead weight. I heard the rustle of his clothes as he undressed, and then the soft sound of the water splashing as he slipped into the spring. I didn't dare move an inch, letting him move behind me. My arms came up, protectively covering my chest, even though I knew he could see nothing from behind. His hands reached forward gently, so slowly, giving me the chance to resist before he gently took the comb from me.

"Lean back a little," he instructed, and I did, letting my eyes flutter closed as the water heated my scalp.

"Curly hair is all about moisture," he told me, as he deftly began to massage the soap into my scalp. "But first it must be clean. Soap it every other day, then follow it with a moisturizing cream."

I snorted, but kept my head exactly where he held it. It felt too good to stop. "Do I look like I have any moisturizing cream?"

Head thoroughly lathered, he began to rake his large fingers against my scalp ever so slowly, and I bit back the moan that tried to make itself known. It never felt like this when I washed my own hair, and my scalp tingled in every place he came into contact with, his touch blazing a trail across my skin .

He ignored my comment, instead saying, "You should always comb it while it's wet," he explained further, almost as if he were reading an instruction manual. "And comb it while the cream is in it."

He pulled my head back further, rinsing the sudsy substance off my scalp. "We don't have creams in Umbra either," he told me, and his hands dropped, the sudden lack of warmth making me want to reach out and pull his hands back to my head. I heard the water move, and a few seconds later, he was back, swiping something thick and lightly scented on the top of my head. "But we make do with what we find by the riverbanks. A special algae grows around bodies of water in this part of the kingdom, and it works almost as good as any product would."

His arm stretched forward, his shadows freely gliding across his skin as he showed me the green substance he held in his palm. A blush creeped up my neck, grateful he couldn't see my face. "No one has ever taught me how to take care of my hair properly. I just do what I thought everyone else did."

"Sometimes it's better to do your own thing. Don't worry about what everyone else is doing."

"How do you know so much about this?" I asked, genuinely curious. His fingers worked through my hair, spreading the green substance through the length of my curls.

"My mother," he said quietly, his voice so close I could almost imagine him whispering it in my ear. "I help her a lot with her hair. Especially lately." He trailed off, and I didn't push it. If he had wanted to tell me more, he would have.

He gripped my hair with both hands, splitting the heavy curtain in two and putting one section to the front of my shoulder so he could work on the remaining. As he moved, his fingers brushed the scars I know graced my shoulder, and his fingers stilled.

I froze with him, my blood running cold as I remembered the scars on my back that I'd forgotten about in all the recent chaos. He moved the other section of hair to the front, and I knew it was so he could get a good look at the canvas of scars that traced my back. From hip to shoulder they decorated my body, a graveyard of memories that I would have rather forgotten. My heartrate skipped, thrumming an erratic tune as I waited for his reaction.

He was the first person to ever see these, the darkest part of my history that could never be erased. A traitorous tear slipped from my eye, but I let it mingle with the small beads of condensation that dripped down my face.

A gentle finger glided over the scar right between my shoulder blades, tracing a tender trail over the imperfection as he considered his next words carefully. His shadows followed, a cool contrast to the heat of his touch.

"Who?"

There was an edge to his voice, a barely restrained fury that was hard to ignore. A shiver bit into me as I considered his question. When I didn't answer, he continued. "I certainly hope the person who did this to you had their limbs torn from their body and fed to the wolves. If they have not, I will gladly volunteer for the honor."

"My father," I said finally, my voice shaking despite my intent to keep it steady. "Growing up, the powerless child of a king has many perks."

The cloud of despair that always came over me when I dwelled on the memories took me over. I continued, not sure why I did, not sure that Vane even cared to know. But after so many years of keeping my history clutched so close to my chest, it just tumbled out.

"Any time he was upset with me, he would drag me into the dungeons that are underneath the castle. There are cells down there, and he'd throw me in his favorite one and whip me. Then he'd leave me down there, two, three days at a time before he let me out." I blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay, my throat tight.

Vane's hands stilled, tension radiating from him, palpable even though I couldn't see him. "He had no right," thunder was in his voice, the words almost a growl.

"No," I agreed softly. "He didn't."

"And you're going to go there tonight?" His hands resumed their work as he gripped the brush, bringing back one section. Slowly, as if I was a porcelain doll that he was afraid to shatter, he deftly brushed out each knot, until the comb smoothly ran through the hair. The gentleness of his hands were in direct contrast to the fury that laced his tone. "If I had known, I never would have—"

"Let me go?" I interrupted with a deranged smirk he couldn't see. "Kian's request was not optional."

"We could have come up with something," he said darkly, a dangerous glint to his tone. "Perhaps an assassination attempt is in order."

"They will kill you, Vane," I said softly, leaning into his touch a little more than I should have as he combed my now smooth hair from root to tip. "Do you mean to take on the entire royal army? Because that is what would descend upon you if you even tried."

Strong hands gripped my shoulders, applying just enough pressure to make the intention clear, but giving me plenty of control to ignore it if I wanted to. Instead I turned, giving in as I moved to face Vane, our faces so close I could have reached up and kissed the tip of his nose. The murky water of the spring was just dark enough that we couldn't see each other, the water coming to just above my chest, the steam keeping my skin humid and flushed.

"Every day that I am here is a moment that I could be discovered and killed," Vane said, his enviously long eyelashes framing eyes that were so dark I almost couldn't see the irises, the red almost black in the shadow of the rock walls. I was lost in them, a faint roar in my ears. "I might as well make the world a better place in the process. "

"I don't need you to protect me," I whispered, my breath mingling with the steam. "I've been taking care of myself for a long time. I'll be okay."

His hand moved to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away a bead of condensation from my skin. His touch was electric, and I leaned into it, my eyes fluttering closed against my will. "But I want to," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. He stared at me like I was a puzzle he couldn't figure out, his mouth just inches from mine.

The intensity in his eyes was almost too much to bear, and my breath hitched in my throat. His warm exhales mingled with mine, my heart pounding in my chest. I was on the edge of a cliff, one step from launching myself into the abyss and crashing into the waves below.

I knew that. I knew what a danger Vane could be to me, what would happen if we got caught. My father would not waste an opportunity to legally, finally get me out of his life for good. It would take only one step, just moving my foot a few inches behind me and I'd be far enough away to break whatever spell it was that made me react to him this way.

But I didn't move.

"Vane," I breathed, my voice a faint tremble that I wasn't sure had actually made any noise at all. The name hung in the air between us, a fragile thread connecting us in the humid, steamy darkness of the spring. "We shouldn't."

"No," he agreed. "We shouldn't."

Before I could say anything more, he closed the distance, his lips capturing mine with a blaze of heat that launched a scorching trail of fire straight to my core. The world shook, fading away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against mine, his hands gentle yet firm as they cradled my face.

I responded eagerly, almost desperately, my hands finding their way to his chest. My hands fisted against his body, and I didn't know if I wanted to pull him closer or push him away. When the kiss deepened, I moved closer to him, the tips of my nipples grazing his chest. This time the moan did slip from my lips, and his body shuddered under my fingertips in response.

A hand moved to tangle in my hair, his shadows coming to wrap around me. Another moan slipped from my lips as his free hand slid from my face to my breast, grazing my sensitive skin.

I should have stopped it there, but instead I writhed against him, my pelvis molding flush against his, and I felt the hard length of him beneath the water's surface.

"Do you want this?" he murmured into my ear as he broke the kiss, gently nibbling on the lobe as both hands were now on my body, beginning a torturous exploration. Skin blended with shadow as they wandered my most sensitive places, and I groaned in response. Shyness burned through me, a strange thing given I was completely naked with this man who I barely knew, but I apparently drew the line at voicing my feelings.

"Saoirse," he said again, his hands stilling in their path. My name rolled off his tongue, fueling the fire that was already roaring inside of me. "If you want me to stop, I'll stop."

"N-No," I croaked, my voice hoarse and breathy, a sound I didn't recognize. I'd been with only a few men, none of which had been anything more than a one-night thing, and I'd never felt like this before. What kind of godforsaken drug was Vane Asteri?

His breath rushed out from his lungs, his hands slowly, reluctantly pulling away from me. Panicked, I reached out, gripping them tightly and pulling them back to me. "No, I don't want you to stop."

That was all the permission he needed, his mouth back on mine in an instant, his hands igniting my skin until I thought I might burst. His fingers found my nipple, pinching and twisting until I cried out, my hips shamelessly grinding against his .

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice so low it was almost a purr that sent shivers down my spine. His head dipped, kissing a trail of butterfly kisses down my neck.

His hand drifted lower, his fingers stilling right before they touched my entrance, giving one last look at my face, one last chance to stop this madness. I moaned instead, pushing myself against his hand, not even caring at the cocky smirk that teased his mouth.

Even beneath the water, his touch felt cool, a contrast to my overheated skin. As his fingers found my clit, I gasped, my arms coming around his neck for support, which I was grateful for when a finger slipped inside me at the same time.

He leaned into me, pushing us until my back collided with the edge of the spring. He lifted one of my legs, hooking it around his hip as a second finger joined the first, and my hips bucked in time with his steady strokes. Shadow joined the fray, and I gasped as they worked in tandem, alternating fire and ice.

His thumb circled my swollen bud, stoking the tsunami that was building inside of me. I did my best attempt to stifle the noise I was making, vaguely aware that we were in a public space. Vane found my ear, his voice laced with satisfaction. "Let me hear you."

My eyes flew open, a guttural moan bursting from me as I came with his words, his mouth rushing to cover mine, swallowing the rest of my pleasure.

He'd set my entire world on fire, and I was just watching it burn.

When I finally calmed down, I became very aware of the length of him pressing into my thigh, thick and ready. My hand stretched toward it when a loud, pointed cough sounded from the spring nearest us, my skin prickling with electricity as embarrassment took me over.

Vane and I looked at each other wide-eyed, then burst out laughing. I clamped my hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my giggles, but it was no use. He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, a serious look in his eye .

"We should talk about this later," he told me, and the reality of what we had just done crashed into me like a brick. "I think they may send the guards if we don't get out of here soon."

I cleared my throat, suddenly wanting to look everywhere but at him as the memory of rubbing my aching body against his flooded back to me. What had gotten into me? "Turn around," I said prudishly, even though we both know he'd just had his fingers in my—

"My memory works just as well," he said as he turned, and without another word, I hauled myself out of the spring.