Page 26
Story: Of Flames and Fallacies
“There I am.” He nods toward a stone building near the western wall of the outpost.
“Is it safe?” I whisper.
He wraps his fingers around mine, both of our hands resting on his chest. “You’re with me. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
After I’ve checked the coast is clear, we slip into his quarters. We shut his door, ceasing the lull of chatter from those still gathered around the fire. I blink through the darkness of his room, my vision adjusting slowly. A bed layered with sheets folded into a neat press is tucked against the opposite wall. To the right, a wooden desk houses stacks of organized letters, a quill, and a half-empty glass bottle. To the left, an old, withered trunk is set on the ground, its lock gleaming in the darkness.
I help Cole to the bed, and he plops down on the mattress, his gaze clouded. Crouching, I unlace and pull his boots off as hiseyes drag closed. I’ve never seen him in such a state-he’s always so perfectly composed.
“Cole?” I murmur.
He tips over, his thick brawny frame landing on the mattress with a thud. Eyes still closed, he mumbles back an incoherent response. His breathing slows as he drifts off into sleep.
Backing up slowly, I remove my cloak and pile it on top of the chair by the desk. Removing Daeja from my shoulders, I place her on my piled cloak and scratch her under the chin for a job well done. She kneads the material a few times, her claws ripping out strands of my cloak before curling her body into the fabric and settling into sleep. I rid my boots and slip into the sheets beside Cole. A smile pulls at my lips as I study him in the darkness.
I brush the red hair sweeping into his forehead back, tracing my fingertips over his cheekbone and jaw, skimming the edge of his beard. It makes him look so much…older. Dark lashes press against his freckled skin, and the strong bridge of his nose points down to his soft full lips. I kiss him, ever so gently I question if I’ve even touched him.
His lips quirk up into a grin, mumbling in drunken satisfaction. Shifting closer, he nuzzles into me. I rest my hand on the side of his face.
The sight of him chases away my fear and hesitations.
The feeling of his pulse beneath my hand is a sanctuary.
The sound of his steady, even breath, a lullaby.
The smell of him is home.
This is where I belong.
I fall asleep, and for the first time in a long time, I dream of home. But it isn’t engulfed in flames.
It’s me and Cole, rolling down the grassy hills near Padmoor as if we were kids again.
twelve
NOT DEAD
Cole stretches himself awake next to me. When he opens his eyes, the color drains from his face. He scrambles away from me, whipping his gaze around the room and rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand.
“Kat! What the—” he pauses. His eyebrows knit together, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I—is this real? Are you really here?”
I nod, a smile spreading from my lips.
Hesitantly, he reaches out a hand to twirl a strand of my hair around his finger and tucks it behind my ear. His breath catches, realizing I’m not a figment of his imagination as his skin touches mine.
“I—I thought you were dead? I was told your house caught fire.” His voice is hoarse.
I grab his hand and rest it on my chest. My heartbeat dances underneath his touch. “Not dead,” I whisper.
Cole pulls me tight into his arms, crushing me into his broad chest. “I can’t believe it…I thought last night was a dream or a hallucination. I’ve missed you so much.” He looks around the room. “Where’s your mother? How did you get here?”
My throat tightens enough for my voice to come out strained. “She’s…dead. She was trapped in the fire. I tried to get her out but it all happened so fast…”
He brushes comforting strokes down my arm, rocking me gently until my emotions settle to a controllable level. “I’m so sorry, Kat. I’m so, so sorry.”
I nod, chewing my lip and trying to divert my attention to something else before the wave of despair takes over. Daeja pops her head up from the chair, and Cole freezes. He snatches a sword by the bed.
I throw an arm out in front of him. “Stop. She won’t hurt you.”
“Is it safe?” I whisper.
He wraps his fingers around mine, both of our hands resting on his chest. “You’re with me. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
After I’ve checked the coast is clear, we slip into his quarters. We shut his door, ceasing the lull of chatter from those still gathered around the fire. I blink through the darkness of his room, my vision adjusting slowly. A bed layered with sheets folded into a neat press is tucked against the opposite wall. To the right, a wooden desk houses stacks of organized letters, a quill, and a half-empty glass bottle. To the left, an old, withered trunk is set on the ground, its lock gleaming in the darkness.
I help Cole to the bed, and he plops down on the mattress, his gaze clouded. Crouching, I unlace and pull his boots off as hiseyes drag closed. I’ve never seen him in such a state-he’s always so perfectly composed.
“Cole?” I murmur.
He tips over, his thick brawny frame landing on the mattress with a thud. Eyes still closed, he mumbles back an incoherent response. His breathing slows as he drifts off into sleep.
Backing up slowly, I remove my cloak and pile it on top of the chair by the desk. Removing Daeja from my shoulders, I place her on my piled cloak and scratch her under the chin for a job well done. She kneads the material a few times, her claws ripping out strands of my cloak before curling her body into the fabric and settling into sleep. I rid my boots and slip into the sheets beside Cole. A smile pulls at my lips as I study him in the darkness.
I brush the red hair sweeping into his forehead back, tracing my fingertips over his cheekbone and jaw, skimming the edge of his beard. It makes him look so much…older. Dark lashes press against his freckled skin, and the strong bridge of his nose points down to his soft full lips. I kiss him, ever so gently I question if I’ve even touched him.
His lips quirk up into a grin, mumbling in drunken satisfaction. Shifting closer, he nuzzles into me. I rest my hand on the side of his face.
The sight of him chases away my fear and hesitations.
The feeling of his pulse beneath my hand is a sanctuary.
The sound of his steady, even breath, a lullaby.
The smell of him is home.
This is where I belong.
I fall asleep, and for the first time in a long time, I dream of home. But it isn’t engulfed in flames.
It’s me and Cole, rolling down the grassy hills near Padmoor as if we were kids again.
twelve
NOT DEAD
Cole stretches himself awake next to me. When he opens his eyes, the color drains from his face. He scrambles away from me, whipping his gaze around the room and rubbing an eye with the heel of his hand.
“Kat! What the—” he pauses. His eyebrows knit together, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I—is this real? Are you really here?”
I nod, a smile spreading from my lips.
Hesitantly, he reaches out a hand to twirl a strand of my hair around his finger and tucks it behind my ear. His breath catches, realizing I’m not a figment of his imagination as his skin touches mine.
“I—I thought you were dead? I was told your house caught fire.” His voice is hoarse.
I grab his hand and rest it on my chest. My heartbeat dances underneath his touch. “Not dead,” I whisper.
Cole pulls me tight into his arms, crushing me into his broad chest. “I can’t believe it…I thought last night was a dream or a hallucination. I’ve missed you so much.” He looks around the room. “Where’s your mother? How did you get here?”
My throat tightens enough for my voice to come out strained. “She’s…dead. She was trapped in the fire. I tried to get her out but it all happened so fast…”
He brushes comforting strokes down my arm, rocking me gently until my emotions settle to a controllable level. “I’m so sorry, Kat. I’m so, so sorry.”
I nod, chewing my lip and trying to divert my attention to something else before the wave of despair takes over. Daeja pops her head up from the chair, and Cole freezes. He snatches a sword by the bed.
I throw an arm out in front of him. “Stop. She won’t hurt you.”
Table of Contents
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