Page 48 of A Storm in Every Heart (Enchanted Legacies #2)
ODESSA, PRESENT
I wake to the warm feeling of bare skin on mine.
For a long moment, I just lie there with my eyes closed, breathing deeply and enjoying the feeling of closeness. Of safety.
I can’t remember the last time I shared a bed with someone—usually, I can’t stand to stick around after a night of fun, both because I’ve rarely found a man I liked enough to want to actually get to know, and because I’m always aware that the longer I linger the more likely it is that I could doom some innocent man to an early death.
So where am I now? Whose heavy arm is wrapped around my hip, and why am I so warm?
All of a sudden, reality hits me and my eyes pop open.
Shit.
I’m lying on my side in the small rickety bed in the inn.
When I went to sleep, I’d done my best to put space between Kastian and me, inching to the very edge of the mattress, but at some point in the night we gravitated back together because now I can feel every part of my back pressed against his chest, and his arm is trapping me close to him, pulling my ass against his hips.
Shit, shit, shit!
A tight knot of anxiety twists in my stomach as I lie there, feeling the warmth of his body too close for comfort.
Part of me is tempted to jump up and yell at him for touching me, but Kastian is asleep. And even if he weren’t, he isn’t really doing anything wrong or unusual.
Fae males are notoriously intense and possessive, and I should have expected his reaction after we slept together. As far as he’s concerned, I probably already belong to him—an idea that sends a traitorous little spark of excitement shooting down my spine.
Except, he already has a soul-bonded mate out there somewhere. And even if he didn’t, we can never be together. He has no idea what could happen if we go down this path again, and just because I can’t tell him doesn’t mean it’s any less of my responsibility to keep my distance.
How many times do I need to remind myself that I know better than this? That exhaustion and gratitude at being alive is not an excuse to ruin the only truly selfless act I’ve made in the last one hundred years.
Slowly, I inch out from under the covers, making sure not to ruffle the sheets or rustle the mattress. Holding my breath, I rise to my feet, the floorboards creaking softly beneath me. My eyes adjust to the dimness, and I scan the shadowy room.
The room is still dark, but I can see the first light of dawn peeking in through the curtains drawn over the window.
Jett is sprawled out on his stomach in the other bed, the sheets tangled around his legs, his face buried in the pillow.
Across the room, Connell is slumped on the floor, his back propped against the wall.
His head tilts slightly to the side, eyes closed, a soft snore occasionally escaping his lips.
Thank the gods they’re all still asleep, because I need to go outside and think.
I reach for my muddy boots on the floor beside the bed and carry them with me as I creep as quietly as possible across the room. Reaching the door, I say a little prayer to myself that it won’t creak, before easing it open and slipping out into the hall.
As soon as I’m standing in the dim, empty hallway, I let out an enormous sigh of relief.
It’s not lost on me that this is the second time in less than a week that I’ve escaped a bed with a sleeping Kastian in it, and that fact makes my stomach churn with shame and remorse—and, unfortunately, just the tiniest hint of arousal.
Oh my gods, what the hell am I doing?
I slide down the wall and sit on the floor to pull my boots on, all the while my heart pounds as if I just ran for my life rather than sneaking out of bed. Standing again, I walk swiftly down the hall to the small bathing room.
It’s empty—thank gods—and I lock myself inside before leaning on the sink and sucking in several deep breaths.
My eyes dart up toward my own reflection in the age-spotted mirror and I wince.
I’m a mess, emotionally and physically.
I can’t remember ever looking this bad in my life—the circles under my eyes are a dark purplish blue, my hair is tangled and dull, and there’s still dirt on my skin despite my attempts to wash off in the river.
At the thought of the river my stomach does a stupid little flip that sends tingles all over my skin and makes my pulse throb low in my belly.
“Stop it!” I tell myself firmly. “Pull yourself together.”
Teeth gritted with determination, I splash some soap and water on my face and use my torn dress to try to really scrub at what’s left of the dirt.
Then, I take off the dress and I perform the same treatment on the rest of my body and rinse my tangled hair in the sink before knotting it into a tight braid. Finally, I rinse my dress in the sink.
The dress is barely more than scraps at this point.
In addition to the torn, short skirt, there’s a large hole in one sleeve and a rip along the neckline.
The once-lavender fabric has stretched due to my not wearing a corset, and is stained so the color is more of a mauve, even after I’ve finished washing it.
I will never turn my nose up at a dress ever again. From now on, if it’s clean, I’m wearing it, no matter what it looks like.
I finish washing the dress and pull it back on. The damp fabric sticks to my skin and drips on the floor, but I’d much rather be wet than dirty.
When I’m finally done, I smile slightly at my reflection. It’s far from perfect, but I feel a little better. More like myself.
With another deep breath, I unlock the door to the bathing room and step out into the hall, thinking vaguely that I’ll go find us some breakfast, then wake the others to get ready to leave.
As I pass the room where the men are sleeping, I glance at the door, wondering what Kastian will think if he wakes up and finds me gone.
“Stop it,” I tell myself again. “You know better.”
Those words are starting to lose meaning, but I can’t stop myself from thinking them.
I have to know better. I have to be fine.
There’s only forty-eight hours more of this, and surely the next inn we stay at will have more than one room. Then we’ll be back in Vernallis, and I can go back to avoiding Kastian like the plague.
It feels like a lie even in my head, but I desperately cling to it anyway as I walk down the short hallway and reach the stairs.
I’m hardly paying attention to anything around me until an angry voice from downstairs bursts through my thoughts. “It doesn’t seem like you’ve got any trouble here. Why would you waste our time?”
I come to an abrupt halt on the stairs, my intuition screaming at me to stop and listen.
“I sent the message last night,” the innkeeper’s wavering voice replies. “I didn’t realize how long it would take you to get here, and I thought?—”
“We were stationed over an hour away,” the angry voice replies.
“The king has every damn guard in the kingdom on high alert and we haven't slept in two days. We finally got a few hours to sleep, but then I had to drag my men out of bed and through that fucking swamp because your messenger said your village was in trouble. So imagine my surprise when we get here and everyone is still asleep.”
“They looked dangerous, Sir. There were four of them in all. Two tall males with tattoos?—”
“Are tattoos illegal now?” the angry voice interrupts.
My heartbeat kicks up with anxiety. One of those voices is definitely the innkeeper, and while I can’t place the other one, they’re absolutely talking about us.
My pulse pounds in my ears as, quietly as I can, I edge down the remaining two stairs to the landing, and poke my head a few inches around the wall to see what’s going on.
Sure enough, the innkeeper is standing in the middle of the empty tavern. There are four men in front of him, all dressed in green military jackets—Hydrattan royal guards. The largest guard, the leader, is the angry voice arguing with the innkeeper.
I stifle a gasp and pull my head back before they can see me, just as the innkeeper tries again to explain himself to the guard.
“You should have seen them. One had to be six and a half feet tall and he had a couple of fresh wounds, like they’d been in a fight.
The other one was covered in mud and dragging a third man around with a belt tied around his wrists. ”
“A belt?” the guard asks, sounding interested for the first time.
“There was a woman too. She wasn’t bound up, but her dress was torn. I thought she might be a prisoner as well.”
A cold dread washes over me and I inch my way back up the stairs, holding my breath.
It seems like Kastian’s gold did absolutely nothing to deter the innkeeper from calling the local guards, and the only reason we’ve been left to sleep so long is because it took them awhile to get here.
Sooner or later, they’re going to come up here to check on us and we absolutely cannot be here when they do.
I’m not that worried about Jett and me. If not for the kidnapping plot, we’d be in Hydratta anyway and we were technically invited to be here.
I’m worried about Kastian. He should never have set foot in Hydratta because the second someone recognizes him he’s going to get dragged in front of King Magnus… or worse.
“Wake up!” I hiss, as I step back into the small room where the men are still sleeping.
Surprisingly, Jett sits up immediately, taking no time to blink sleep from his eyes as if he was already semi-alert. “What’s wrong?”
“We have to leave right now.”
I lock the door behind me and test the knob, making sure it doesn’t budge. Then, I cross the room quickly and throw open the curtains, letting the faint morning light stream inside. The light hits Kastian in the face and he shields his eyes as he too sits up to look at me. “What’s going on?”
“There are Hydrattan guards downstairs looking for us,” I whisper, nervous that somehow they’ll be able to hear us moving around from downstairs. “Someone kick Captain Connell awake, we need to go now!”