Page 32

CHAPTER 32

AURIA

S leep had evaded me most of the night. After Bowen left me in the forest, I hadn’t stuck around to figure out what creatures he was talking about. After seeing the sandwalkers in the desert, I didn’t want to guess what prey lived on the outskirts of Deadwood waiting to strike. As far as I could tell, whatever threats were out there didn’t pass the town line, which brought me at least some comfort.

Before heading home, I’d stopped by the guards’ house to check on them. They seemed to be doing better after just a few days of rest. Two of them were in worse shape than the other, but in a day or two, they should be on their feet without too much trouble. I was thankful they were doing okay, but I wasn’t excited to inevitably be trailed by one of them again. I was enjoying my freedom—perhaps a bit too much.

I’d thankfully avoided Paxon as well as I could, but I was bound to run into him soon. I hadn’t wanted to confront the choice he’d given me and what either decision might mean for me. To think he truly wanted the best for me was hard to believe.

After pulling myself out of bed, I’d thrown on a pair of dark leather pants and a form-fitting black short-sleeve shirt. My boots laced up past my ankles, and in the mirror, I’d admired the way the outfit as a whole fit like a glove. I felt less exposed than I ever had in a dress, despite every curve on my body being on display.

I enjoyed the breakfast I’d found waiting in the kitchen of my own house, complete with berries, bison sausage, and a muffin. Then I’d sat on the couch, enjoying the book that was sitting on the armrest. Along with the leather-bound novel had been a half-empty vial of strength magic, its glowing, purple liquid shining in the rays of the sun. I wasn’t sure who had been in here while I’d slept, but I took advantage of the forgotten vial, refilling it and reveling in the power that flowed through me like the blood in my veins.

After filling the vial up to the cork, I’d flipped through the contents of the book, taking in every piece of information I could. The pages inside had tiny script and large drawings of various types of dragons. I never would have thought so many breeds existed, and while the knowledge written within the book intrigued me, it was the art I couldn’t take my eyes away from. Each was unique, painted with colors to match their true form in order to blend into their natural biome.

My fingers stroked over the painting of a white dragon with ice-blue eyes, nearly identical to the one that’d saved me in the Brimstone Mountains. It felt like weeks had passed since then, but it’d been merely days. The top of the page was titled Snow Dragon, indicating which breed this one was. That had to be what the female dragon was, having shot ice from her mouth to freeze people in place, then obliterate them into tiny chunks with one sweep of her powerful tail.

I’d have never thought this to be possible, but now, it simply amazed me that all of this existed in a world I once thought was simple, boring. Serpentine was far from any of that.

A knock at the door drew my attention away from the pages, and reluctantly, I closed the book, leaving it on the cushion as I headed for the door. As soon as I opened it, Siara appeared with a breath of relief.

“Oh, good. You’re dressed. Let’s go,” she said, stepping to the side and ushering me forward with far too much enthusiasm.

“Where?” Her politeness toward me took me off guard every time, though it was a relief compared to the harshness the majority of people I came across treated me with.

“It’s market day!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms out.

I blinked, not understanding the excitement.

She sighed. “When a bunch of tradespeople come through town with rare items from all over the continent, even overseas. I want to shop, and I want you to come.”

“That’s a lot of wants.”

She rolled her eyes. “Flynt’s busy, so he wouldn’t come with me, and I figured you might want to see what it’s all about.”

Out of all of her other options in this town, she’d thought to invite me. The sentiment alone sent warmth spreading through my chest.

“I don’t have a lot of money on me,” I said. One of the guards had given me a few coins in case I needed to buy something while they were healing, but it wasn’t enough for any rare items.

She grabbed my hand, pulling me out the door. “That’s fine. If you want something, just ask.”

I barely had time to close the door behind me as she led me down the porch step and into the street. Ahead, people were everywhere, and my guard instantly went up at the thought of them possibly not being human. Was Siara fae? Was this a trap? But if she was, she hadn’t shown any sort of hostility toward me to prove it. Maybe Bowen was right, and they weren’t monsters. But if that was true, then why were they thought to be extinct? Why not reveal themselves?

Leaving the small strip of houses, Siara pulled me into the throng of people as we entered the main street. It was an effort not to bump shoulders with some of them, a few casting dirty looks my way when I got too close.

“Siara, are you sure I should be out here?” I asked, trying to keep my voice low. It was no secret who I was related to, and that would always make me a target.

“Stick me with me and you’ll be fine,” she replied over her shoulder. She must’ve caught the worried look in my eye because she slowed, walking alongside me. She held a hand up, and between the tips of two fingers, electricity sizzled. The confirmation hit me like a brick.

“You’re fae, too,” I whispered.

She nodded. “Bowen told me you found out yesterday.”

Had he gone straight to her after leaving me in the woods? Was there something going on between the two of them, and I was too naive to see it? But why did I even care? He wasn’t mine to be jealous over.

“But you don’t need to worry,” she went on. “You’re safe here.”

I almost snorted at the word. It seemed as if I was anything but safe anywhere, let alone in a town full of criminals.

“How do you and Bowen know each other anyway?” I asked, curiosity getting the best of me.

“I was friends with Flynt first, but when Bowen’s dad died and he shoved everyone away, I was sort of…persistent. He wanted to wilt away. I mean, the man was doing everything he could to—” She stopped, glancing at me. “I guess I shouldn’t get into that part. But long story short, he was a shell of the man he is today, and I helped him get through it. I lost my family when I was young, grew up an orphan, and Flynt always made sure I was fed and had shelter. After Bowen snapped out of it, they just kind of brought me into the group.” She gave a little shrug. “Became the family I always wished for, but never got lucky enough to have.”

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, my heart hurting for both her and Bowen, and the pasts they had had to endure. It made me feel guilty for feeling even remotely miserable in my own life when others surely suffered worse.

“But anyway, that’s all old news,” she said, brushing it off like she hadn’t just dropped an emotional bomb. “They’re stuck with me now.”

“I’m sure stuck is the last word they’d use,” I replied.

“You’re giving my ability to be clingy far too little credit,” she teased, all too aware I was starting to see it bright as day.

“Where do the tradespeople come from?” I asked, curious if this would be as dangerous as everything else seemed to be and taking advantage of the alone time with her to ask questions about anything.

“Not Amosite, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she supplied. “Some come in at the ports from other continents, and others live their lives traveling and selling their creations, never really settling in one place too long.”

The sight of the market coming into view as she spoke nearly froze me in my tracks. Booths were set up all along the street, people bustling about. Some had carts full of goods, others overflowing armfuls of supplies. People wore clothes just as me, while others wore more risqué attire. There was no dress code in Deadwood, that much was certain. The freedom to express themselves opened an aching longing inside me. If today was as close as I got to being able to do that, I’d be satisfied.

“Oh, look!” Siara squealed, grabbing my hand and tugging me in the direction of a booth selling assorted pieces of jewelry. “I think opal would look amazing on you.”

I bent over to get a better look at the piece Siara had pointed out. An array of colors littered the white stone, a delicate gold chain attached to the piece. In the sun, the greens turned to purple, to orange and royal blue, shining rainbows with every shift of the light.

“It’s beautiful,” I said.

The vendor, a middle-aged woman with graying hair and a sun-splotched nose, eyed me, her gaze carousing up and down the length of my body. “Too much for you.” She went back to her other customer, lifting another piece up into the sunlight for the patron to admire.

Siara narrowed her eyes on the woman, then set two vials of magic on the table, the blue liquid glinting in the sun. Water magic. “It’s for me.”

The lady pocketed the vials, waving us off.

Siara picked up the chain, holding it out to me. “Here you go.”

“Siara, I can’t accept that,” I said.

The stone swung in the air as she waited for me to take it, bringing it closer. “Yes, you can.”

I shook my head. “I don’t have any magic or enough coin to give you.”

“Consider it a gift for your travels, then,” she said.

The necklace as a whole was exquisite, more eye-catching than any of the gaudy pieces I was forced to wear with my outfits back in Amosite. There, it was to brag of the wealth my father had. Here, I could wear it simply because I liked it. That thought alone convinced me to accept it.

“Fine, but I’m getting you something in return.”

She shrugged, then spun her finger in a circle. I turned around and lifted my hair off my neck. She clasped it, adjusting it so it lay directly in between my collarbones. I faced her again, finding a gleaming smile on her face. “Even more beautiful when it’s on.”

With one last admiring look, she started to head to the next booth, but my attention caught on a burly man pocketing three bracelets and a vial of magic off the table we’d just purchased from.

Without thinking, I spoke up. “Hey! Put those back.”

His heated glare landed on me, but I refused to shrink away. From the existing tattoos on his forearms, more lines etched in around his wrists. I wanted to stare at the ink, to watch as the swirls took their shape in his skin, almost like a brand. The work itself was almost like a trance I was sucked into but quickly snapped out of when he stomped directly in front of me.

“What was that?” he gritted out.

I had nothing on him—no strength or height—as he towered a foot and a half over me, but still, I held my chin high. “I said put them back.”

His nostrils flared, the piercings on both sides moving with them, and I suddenly wished I would’ve held my tongue. I didn’t know who was fae in this town, and I really didn’t want to find out this way. “What are you going to do about it, bitch? Glare at me to death? Stomp on my big toe?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but a hand shot out, landing on his chest. It shoved him back a foot, and a man wearing all black stepped between us. Even from the back of his head, I recognized Bowen. Electricity practically rolled off him, prickling my body with awareness as something inside me swirled in a frenzy with his presence.

“I suggest you leave the lady alone,” Bowen warned, his voice eerily calm.

Around his hands and tattooed arms, smoke swirled, and the tendrils only grew as more joined the cluster from nearby grills and candles.

The man stared Bowen down, his fisted hands flexing before finally backing away. He shook his head once, turning around. I noted he didn’t return the jewelry and magic he stole.

“He stole her merchandise,” I said. “And a vial.”

Bowen turned around. Our chests were too close. In the beaming midday sun, his blue eyes shone brighter than the sky. “That’s not for you to take care of.”

I crossed my arms defiantly. “Then who will? Or is this town too full of outlaws for you to care about a little piece of jewelry?”

The smoke dissipated as he grabbed my arm, spinning me around so my back was pressed to his chest. He lowered his head, murmuring in my ear, “See those guards posted at every other booth?” He paused, waiting for me to find them. Though they almost blended in with the crowd, now that I was looking for them, I couldn’t miss each standing in leather outfits, guns slung on their hips. Daggers filled every sheath on their body, and I didn’t want to guess what other weapons or magic they held. “They take care of it so that you, Princess, can enjoy your shopping.”

With his body pressed to mine, my back was nearly buzzing. “I’m hardly shopping.”

I could practically feel his eyes drop to the opal necklace around my neck, and the memory of his hand against my skin in that very spot heated my core. I couldn’t help the rise of my breasts as I tried to inhale. Bowen seemed to suck the oxygen from me with a few simple words.

“Auria! Oh my gods, I thought I lost you,” Siara said, hurrying over to us as she shouldered past a stout woman.

Bowen dropped my arm and stepped back. “You did.”

I didn’t bother looking back at him. “She didn’t. I just got sidetracked.”

Her eyes darted between me and Bowen, a knowing glint in them as she tried to hide her smile. “Well, it looks like Bowen kept you company instead.”

By the look on her face, it led me to believe they didn’t have anything between them. If they did, why would she seem almost…elated to see him simply standing with me?

“My lady,” a guard, one of my guards, said, appearing from the crowd.

His appearance took me aback, as I thought they wouldn’t be out and about for another day or two at least. Siara and Bowen regarded him with bored curiosity.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked, seeing as his leg was wrapped from the knee down and he used a stick propped under his arm to hold himself up.

“Quite. I came to grab a few things for the others, but my lady…” His eyes fell to my clothes, then darted back to my face. “I noticed you’re not wearing Amosite’s colors while you’re out, and with orders from your father, you must change. You know the rules, Lady Auria.”

My brows pulled together. That’s why he’d approached me? It was the same bullshit from before. The same thing they’d said to me when I’d checked on them last night. “All of my belongings were destroyed in the raid.”

He gave a nervous nod. “Surely Deadwood has something that would work.”

“This is mainly all I have.” Given the circumstances, he had to understand, right?

“It will not do, my lady. Your father gave us strict orders?—”

“The lady can wear whatever she’d like,” Bowen interrupted, his voice taking on such an authoritative tone that even I felt compelled to heed it.

The guard turned his attention on Bowen. “With all due respect, sir”—he cleared his throat—“King Tenere was very clear?—”

Bowen’s eyes bored into him. “Are we in Amosite, Soldier?”

The guard’s eyes darted to me before looking back at Bowen. “Well, no?—”

“Right.” Bowen stepped toward him, his entire being the mask of calm control. This side of him was as collected as a king. “She may wear what she’d like while staying in my town.”

The guard swallowed, a nervous bead of sweat gleaming off his forehead. To save himself from the scrutiny, he nodded, giving me one last glance before disappearing back into the crowd.

To hell with all of this.

I heaved a breath, then stepped around Siara, heading in the direction of the next booth. Vibrant blown glass vases sat displayed on the white cloth draped over the table, and I wondered how they traveled with such delicate items. Taylin had never mentioned a market such as this visiting Amosite, and I presumed it was yet another thing my father didn’t allow his people to take part in.

The thought of Taylin dropped a boulder to the pit of my stomach, and I realized just how badly I missed our daily talks in the gardens. Was she still showing up every day, waiting for my return in case we arrived early? Or had she forgotten about me for weeks, relieved she wouldn’t have to make the trek from her home in the city to the castle for a short visit?

Siara admired a few of the vases beside me, Bowen trailing behind us with his hands casually clasped behind his back. He kept a watchful eye on the crowd around us, and I did my best not to glance his way.

“Did you get my gift?” Bowen asked, coming up on my other side as Siara continued onward.

“A book and a half-empty vial is hardly a gift,” I snipped, irritated with his presence at the moment. Between stepping in with the man and defending me in front of the guard, I felt embarrassed. The last thing I wanted was for him to feel bad enough for me to leave gifts on top of all of the saving, too. Besides, this was a trip for me and Siara, not Bowen.

His chin dipped. “So you did.”

I acted more interested in the items displayed before me than the man making my heart race. “Gifts are to be given. You’re merely loaning it to me.”

“It’s yours to have, even after you leave.”

I shook my head. “I can’t take anything like that back to Amosite. My father would surely—” Surely what? The fact was, I had no clue what he’d do if I brought back souvenirs, let alone an entire book on dragons. Now that I was thinking about it, I didn’t believe I’d be able to take the necklace Siara had given me either.

Bowen made a humming sound behind me, but I chose not to pay it any mind. If he wanted to be judgmental, he could keep it to himself.

But then his chin appeared in my peripheral as he leaned over my shoulder, and his voice, smooth as honey, filled my ear. “Trouble at home, Princess?”

I spun on him. “Even if there was, I wouldn’t confide in you.”

He cocked an amused brow. “Does Father Dearest not know his precious daughter isn’t so innocent after all?”

“After this trip, I plan to keep it that way,” I gritted out, hoping he got the message not to say a word to him, should they speak.

“About the information in that book or the way you like how my hand feels wrapped around your throat?”

My nostrils flared, my cheeks surely reddening. I couldn’t let him get under my skin this easily.

“Or maybe”—he leaned closer, and the crowd faded away—“the way your breathing picks up its pace when you see me. Or how your heart rate skyrockets in my presence.”

I narrowed my eyes on him before spinning back around to follow after Siara once more, choosing to give him the cold shoulder and not let him succeed in getting under my skin. That’s all he was trying to do, and I wouldn’t let him.

We moved on to the next booth, finding leather satchels and sheaths for daggers and swords dangling from hooks above the worn table. A man with white hair sat behind the display, etching a design into a strip of leather. He looked young, his skin tan from long hours in the sun.

To the left of me, Siara snorted. “You can get your name etched into a sheath. How cute.” Her attention snagged on a small purse hanging from a metal hook, the size just big enough to hold a few vials of magic. She turned it over in her fingers, staring for a few moments longer, then dropped it, moving on to the next booth.

Behind me, Bowen was thankfully caught up in conversation with a guard who’d singled him out in the crowd. While he was distracted, I took some coin out of my pocket and set it on the table. The purse would be perfect for Siara, a gift in return for the necklace she’d bought me.

The man behind the table didn’t so much as glance at my coin, so I took the purse off the hook, adjusting the strap over my shoulder.

A hand grabbed my wrist, ripping the leather strap from my hold, and I was spun toward a hard chest. Bowen took the purse, setting it back on the table. “Fucking hell, Auria.”

“What?” I asked, exasperated with his tone. What the fuck had I done other than buy a purse?

He ran his hands down my arms, his eyes roaming frantically over every inch of my exposed skin. “Do you burn anywhere?”

“Burn? Why would I burn ?”

He pivoted my body side to side, then moved my hair off my neck. The act alone sent tingles skittering through me. “When you’re marked for stealing, your skin burns where the tattoo forms.”

His insinuation struck me. “I didn’t steal any magic. It’s a purse . I put coin down.”

He grabbed the bag, opening the flap to reveal a bundle of vials lying neatly inside. “You have to check inside before you try to buy anything. Nothing is safe.”

My jaw nearly dropped. “Why the hell would there be magic in there?”

“Some beings use these items to move magic.”

“ Move magic?” What the fuck was he talking about?

His lips rolled together. “Not everyone has access to specific types of magic in every region, so they smuggle it.” When I didn’t reply, because words evaded me altogether, he continued. “You’re sure you don’t burn anywhere?”

“Yes.” I’d know if I did. The sensation was all too familiar to me.

He searched my eyes, likely to see if I was telling the truth. “Best keep that little bit to yourself.” He set the purse back on the table.

“Why?” I hadn’t technically stolen it, and the absence of the ink was proof of that.

“Do not speak a word of this, Auria.” He checked around us to be sure no one had seen. The way my name rolled off his lips etched itself into my brain. His voice wrapped around me like a caress.

I retrieved my coin off the table, pocketing it. “I don’t suppose you’re trying to control me now, are you?” I asked, doing my best to keep the irritation in my tone, despite wanting to let it go.

He looked at me again, his eyes narrowing as he leaned closer. “Not in the way you think, Princess.”

His gaze moved to something behind me, and I turned when his body stiffened. In the crowd, Paxon stood still among all the bodies moving every which way around him as they shopped and chatted. His eyes were trained on us, watching.

“You keep an eye on him,” Bowen muttered, his voice low with warning, like he wanted to say more.

“You don’t like him?” I questioned, wondering how much he knew about Paxon.

“I don’t trust him.”

His reluctance to explain why filled me with annoyance, and I didn’t stick around to see what Paxon might do or to hear some bullshit short response from Bowen. Leaving Siara at the booth she’d wandered off to, I joined the crowd of people, not bothering to say a word to Bowen.

“Auria,” he called after me, but I ignored him.

I pressed through the throng, warm bodies bumping into me from every angle. I needed air and space, and this market wasn’t providing a reprieve for either. I quickened my pace, spotting an empty alley ahead. I shoved my way past the last few rows of people, inhaling the warm air as I stepped into the opening.

As I’d suspected, Bowen followed.

“Auria,” he said again.

I ran my hands through my hair, tugging at my scalp. “Why won’t anyone just be clear with me?” But the question was left open. I didn’t expect an answer. I doubted Bowen had one anyway.

My chest heaved as oxygen filled my starving lungs, and I pressed my forehead to the wooden wall of whatever business stood on one side of the alley.

This entire world was a mystery to me, and as I’d come to learn, my father kept me in the dark for no good fucking reason. It was all to control me, to keep me naive and willing to follow his every demand. He’d succeeded, and I wanted to hate him for it, but a part of me couldn’t. He’d kept me safe, fed me meals, provided me safety and shelter.

“You’re okay, Auria,” Bowen said, his voice a touch softer than it had been in the market.

I whirled on him, throwing my hands to my sides. “You’re an extinct species, Bowen! Hell, this whole fucking town likely is, and I had no clue!”

In a blink, he was in my space, pressing my back to the wall, pinning my hands above my shoulders. “Breathe, Auria.”

I tried to shove against his hold, but it was no use. “I don’t need to fucking breathe!”

“Your mind is spinning in a hundred different directions right now, so yeah, some deep breaths might help.”

I tried again to get him off of me, but his hands remained on mine. I wouldn’t look at his eyes, wouldn’t let myself get lost in them. He’d deceived me. But he didn’t. My father had. If I hadn’t been so blind to the world, I’d have known dragons weren’t actually in hiding, known fae weren’t extinct, that creatures existed past Amosite’s chasm. But it all came down to Bowen. Bowen, standing here, pinning me against this godsforsaken wall as a market full of predators bustled mere feet away.

I let out a frustrated groan, shaking my head and squeezing my eyes shut. “I’m spinning because of you, Bowen!” My chest heaved, my mind a whirlwind.

“I’m not your enemy,” he said.

I couldn’t help it any longer. My eyes met his, and I swallowed the dryness coating my throat. “You’re fae.” And if I had to guess, they were rumored to be extinct for a reason.

His hands pressed harder against mine, his toned, inked forearms flexing with the movement. “That’s right, Auria. I am. Which means I can feel the fear wafting off your skin, hear your heart threatening to beat out of your chest, smell the desire seeping off you every time I walk into the room.”

“You’re wrong,” I spat.

He ignored my protests. “It isn’t me you should fear.” He dropped my hands, and I realized how much I was relying on him to hold me up when I staggered away from the wall. He was an anchor in the chaos.

“Then who? Because all arrows point to you right now,” I said between panting breaths. He’d treated me so nicely thus far, and yet, I couldn’t help but have second thoughts that he was the monster lurking in the dark.

He let me have a moment to breathe, to settle the racing of my heart. “Think about everything you knew, and everything you know now. You shouldn’t trust anyone. Not in Amosite, not in Deadwood.” His eyes held mine, something like pain flashing in them. “Not even your precious fiancé.”

He didn’t give me the chance to press further as he left me in the alley. It wasn’t the first time I had watched him leave, the sight all too familiar after last night, and I wondered if that was how it would always be.

People walking out on me before I could get a real answer.