Page 33

CHAPTER 33

AURIA

R ather than attempting to explore the rest of the market, I headed home. Bowen had soured my mood, and meandering through a crowd of people would only make it worse. One moment, he was standing up for me, and the next, he was acting as if I were his enemy—just like nearly everyone else had so far, as if the actions from my father were brought onto them by me.

But I wasn’t the reason for their hardships. Being kept in the dark for so long, I could only guess what my father had done to tarnish the Tenere name, but with the little details I knew, I had to assume it was his greed that had gotten to him.

If only people knew?—

No , they’d never know. To them, they probably assumed I was some spoiled, rotten princess, but the opposite was true. I would never be anything like my father if I could help it. I’d give and give until I had nothing left in me if I could. I drained my energy for my father every day, filling vials like some servant. I was his daughter, and he used me.

I hadn’t noticed I’d shed a tear until the drop trickled down my cheek. I swiped at it angrily. Neither Bowen nor my father deserved my tears. My rage was mine. I was the reason I was stuck in this situation. Being married off to a stranger—though Lander had become somewhat of a friend through this—and being used as some pawn. It all laid on my shoulders like an anchor on the seafloor. The only one with the power to get me out of this was me, and yet I was too weak to try.

Or was I?

Stepping up onto the porch, I opened the door to the home I was staying in. With the curtains drawn, the living room was dim, but rather than opening them, I walked over to the lantern after shutting the front door. I pressed a finger to the vial, refilling the fire magic inside before lighting the flame.

“Have fun at the market today?” someone asked, causing me to jump.

I spun to find Paxon lounging in a chair in the corner, like he’d been waiting for me. He traced a finger over the cover of the book I’d left out, one leg crossed over the other.

“I did,” I said, doing my best to mask my irritation at the sight of him.

“Good.” He stood, taking his time as he uncrossed his leg and pushed up from the chair. He left the book on the armrest as he slowly moved toward me. “I saw you there.”

When he didn’t continue, I said, “Oh?”

“With Bowen.” He prowled closer to where I stood in the entry of the room.

“I wasn’t exactly with him,” I clarified. “More like he helped me and stayed near in case something happened again.” I hoped that was a good enough cover-up and Paxon hadn’t seen us in the alley. Technically, I had been there with Siara, and Bowen had inserted himself into our little shopping trip.

“I’m only going to say this once, Auria. Whatever you are doing with him, it needs to stop.”

“Why?” The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it. I should have left it at that. I had no reason to want to be around Bowen any more than I had to, so it should be no problem to listen to Paxon’s demand, but something about him trying to tell me what to do, who I could be around, didn’t sit right with me. I was tired of people trying to control me.

He stopped within a foot of me. “You’re with my brother, aren’t you? Or did you forget I gave you a choice not too long ago? A choice of who you could belong to.”

His words lit a match in me. “I don’t belong to anyone but myself,” I gritted out.

Paxon’s eyes turned curious, a hint of amusement in them. “You belong to my brother until you make your decision.”

“And if I don’t?”

In a flash, he grabbed my wrist, squeezing until I swore the bone might break. A little whimper escaped me, despite my effort to hold it in. “Then I will shatter every precious little finger on this hand until you can no longer use your magic. And without those, you are useless. A fragile thing with no purpose.”

I tried to keep my breathing controlled as I attempted to yank my wrist away, but it wasn’t until he loosened his grip that I was successful. My heart pounded inside my chest, the beat nearly painful as the reality that he’d seen me use my magic on the fire vial set in.

“No more Bowen,” he repeated, each word enunciated clearly.

He walked past me, his usual calm demeanor firmly back in place as his threat hung in the air.

“And Auria,” he said, turning his head to the side but not looking at me, “the bridge changes nothing. You have until it’s repaired and we are able to return to decide.”

After the front door closed behind him, my hand tightened into a fist. Frustration ate at me like termites to wood, and I wanted to hit something. To yell, to cry. But all I could do was grind my teeth as I gave Paxon enough time to walk away from the house. Then, once I was sure the coast was clear, I left.

I had a lifetime of staying cooped up to look forward to upon my return to Amosite. I was going to handle my emotions in the one way I knew might erase them for just a few hours—with a couple drinks.

* * *

The bartender gave me a hefty dose of side-eye as I slid onto a stool in the dimly lit saloon. Patrons that had shopped for hours littered the bar, having spent a bountiful amount of magic on items from the market and were now drinking the rest of their day away. I hoped to be on the same level of buzzing in less than an hour’s time.

“Order,” the bartender grumbled. He was a big, burly man with bulging muscles and short-cropped brunet hair. It was a wonder he was working behind a bar and not a part of the army.

Having never been in a proper bar before, I wasn’t sure what to order. With my hesitation, he seemed to sense my naivety. “I’ll get ya an ale.”

“Thank you,” I said as he moved to grab a thick glass, pouring dark gold liquid into the cup from a spout.

He slid it onto the counter, some of the liquid sloshing out onto the sticky bar top. “Three coins.”

I rifled through my pocket, tossing three silver coins onto the counter. He grabbed them, tossing them into a bucket on the floor. That wasn’t a very secure payment system.

“What’s your name?” I asked as he slung a dirty rag over his bulky shoulder. Black ink stretched up his neck like so many others in this town.

He only glared in response, then moved to fill another drink for a beautiful black-haired woman down the way.

“That’s Lux,” a man said as he slid onto a stool next to me.

I turned to find Flynt setting his own glass on the bar.

“I take it he’s not very talkative,” I surmised, grabbing my drink.

“Only with the people he likes,” Flynt replied with a half-shrug. “Which isn’t many.”

Bringing the glass to my lips, I sipped and instantly regretted it. My eyes squeezed shut against the tart taste.

“Nastiest shit, isn’t it?” Flynt asked around a smile.

I coughed, setting the cup back down. “How can you even enjoy that?”

Flynt shrugged, taking a large sip of his own. “Not much of a choice. Lux brews it in the back and won’t change his recipe. He says it’s an ‘acquired taste’ and we all just need to open our palates.”

“It’s true,” Lux grumbled from the end of the bar as he poured another hefty serving of ale. “You fuckers have no taste.”

“I don’t think it’s terrible,” Siara said as she slid onto the stool on my other side.

Flynt scrunched his face. “She’s insane.”

“Stop giving poor ol’ Lux such a hard time. He works hard on his ale,” Siara defended. As if on cue, Lux slid a full glass in front of her. She gave him a sweet smile. “Thanks, Luxxy.”

Flynt groaned, setting an elbow on the bar and a hand on his forehead, like she was giving him a headache. “Siara, please.”

“You’re just mad you can’t get free drinks by flirting,” she said.

A smile pulled at my lips as Flynt said, “Lux, you’re looking very handsome today. New tattoo? Bet you stole some real badass magic to get that beauty.”

Lux only grunted, walking away.

“You’re terrible at flirting, that’s the problem,” Siara observed, sipping her drink without so much as a wince. “Auria, on the other hand, is amazing at it.”

“ What ?” I’d never done such a thing, especially not in Deadwood.

Siara swallowed her ale, her glass thumping against the bar as she set it down. “Don’t act so oblivious. Bowen’s hooked around your pretty little finger.” Then she added under her breath, “More than that fiancé of yours.”

Flynt’s brows rose. This was news to him as much as it was to me.

“I certainly do not flirt with Bowen.”

She cocked her head, her light blonde hair sliding over her bare shoulder. She was wearing a white sleeveless top and tan pants, the outfit accentuating her curves. “Hm.”

I faced her fully in my seat. “What does ‘hm’ mean?”

Behind me, Flynt said, “Bowen doesn’t get attached to women.”

I spun on the stool, facing him now. Was he insinuating he went from woman to woman, unabashed?

“Never had a woman worth getting attached to,” Siara muttered.

I turned back to her. I was going to get whiplash. “What are you two trying to say?”

Siara shrugged, turning her attention to her ale with a flick of her hand. “You probably don’t care. As you said, you don’t flirt with him, so it likely doesn’t matter to you.”

I grabbed my ale, scrunching my nose in an attempt to plug it as I chugged the liquid. I didn’t stop until the last drop passed my lips, then slammed it on the bar. This was not my idea of getting my mind off things—not when Siara and Flynt were throwing Bowen’s name around like some sort of carefully laid bait. I didn’t have enough alcohol in my system to deal with this.

“Maybe we can talk about a man you do like, then,” Siara said as Lux grabbed my glass, refilling it.

I tossed three more coin onto the bar, a snort escaping me. “Who might that be?”

Siara stared at me, raising both brows. “Your fiancé, maybe?”

Lux slid the glass back to me, and I cradled it with both hands, watching as the liquid sloshed. “Oh. Right.”

Flynt belted out a laugh, slapping a hand on the bar as he leaned closer. “Did you truly just forget about your fiancé?”

“It’s a forced marriage.” The explanation fell out of my mouth, and I instantly wished I could take it back. The alcohol was making my tongue loose.

Siara perched an elbow on the bar, her knees brushing the cushion on my stool. “Well, we all knew that .”

“You did?” As far as the other kingdoms were aware, we were marrying to return the peace. Our union was to show that Torbernite and Amosite were coming together in an attempt to restore trade, and it was supposed to be believable. That was the whole point of this trip.

“You’re never with him,” she said simply.

“That, and you two rarely smile together. Or even frown, for that matter. Two people who like one another usually get under each other’s skin,” Flynt added.

“I hardly think that’s the basis of a healthy relationship.” I went in for another gulp of ale, needing the alcohol to work its magic far quicker than it was.

“So, is he good in bed?” Siara asked.

Ale flew out of my mouth in a spray, resulting in a glare from Lux.

“Gods, Siara,” Flynt mumbled, shaking his head before sipping his drink. He needed the buzz as much as I did now.

She shrugged. “I’m only curious. He’s attractive.”

“We’re friends,” I choked out after my coughing fit.

“Who said friends couldn’t have fun?” she asked innocently.

“Please never say that around me or the guys again,” Flynt groaned.

“Life’s boring if you don’t get a quickie in now and then,” Siara added, as if that defended her statement.

Flynt’s face twisted in disgust. “We’re practically your brothers, Siara.”

She reached around me to smack him lightly on the back of the head. “I don’t mean you , idiot. You three aren’t the only men in this world. And even if you were, I would never sleep with any of you.”

Flynt rubbed at the back of his head. “Thank the gods. I love you like family, Siara, but?—”

“Flynt, hate to cut you off, but this isn’t about you. I hear about you enough.” Siara turned her gaze back on me. “About the fiancé.”

I spun the glass on the counter, the liquid sloshing up the sides. “There’s not much to tell.”

“You truly haven’t jumped his bones?” Siara asked, disbelief in her tone.

“No.” And I didn’t plan to. We didn’t even want to get married to one another, let alone have sex. “We’re just marrying to”—my face scrunched—“restore peace.” I rested an elbow on the bartop, my chin falling into my palm. “But I don’t know if that’s really the reason.” The admission slipped past my tongue before I could stop it. Damn Lux’s ale.

Over me, Siara and Flynt shared a look, but I couldn’t decipher what it meant.

Siara let out a dramatically loud sigh, breaking their stare. “Everyone is so damned boring in this town.”

I snorted, ignoring how they didn’t acknowledge what I’d said. Lander and I were a mess these two probably didn’t want to get too involved in. “You’re in a town full of criminals and outlaws, and you think that’s boring?” My eyes widened on my drink for emphasis, my brows raising as I looked at her. “Try living in Amosite.”

Something akin to pity flashed across her face as her features softened, and I shook my head. “Oh, no. Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, her voice even softer now.

“I don’t need your pity,” I said before downing the rest of my ale. My mind was finally starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, and I was glad for it. “Go back to asking about my sex life or something.”

“It’s not pity,” she defended, not even a shimmer of intrigue lighting her gaze with my suggestion.

I slid the glass forward, hoping Lux would fill it soon. I couldn’t tell if the taste was growing on me or my body simply wanted the buzz so bad that it didn’t mind the pungent flavor anymore. “What do you know of my father anyway? Does everyone know what he does?” Like keep me locked in a castle. Or literally any other terrible thing he had done.

“Besides the fact that he’s the reason for a lot of people’s suffering?” Siara questioned.

Flynt instantly shot her a look that screamed, Shut up .

I froze, my eyes stuck on a particularly sticky spot on the counter top. “What?”

Siara glanced at Flynt. “If he’s not going to tell her, then I might as well.”

“That’s not your place, Siara,” Flynt warned.

“What aren’t you two telling me?”

Flynt shook his head subtly. “Siara, don’t.”

She stared at him, an entire argument playing out between the two of them in that look alone.

Unbeknownst to the war raging in front of him, Lux filled our glasses once more before moving back to the other patrons. With the silence stretching between Siara and Flynt, I stood from the barstool and tipped my head back to guzzle the ale down. After slamming the glass on the bar, I tossed three coins on the counter, then looked to them both. “I’m heading home, but next time you two want to hang out, make sure you’re willing to talk about the things you bring up.”

All of my anger truly wasn’t directed at them, but I wanted to enjoy my buzz, not wallow in it, so leaving was the best option.

But that didn’t mean I was going back to the house I was staying in.

No, the options were limitless in Deadwood, and the thought alone excited me all the more.