Page 50

CHAPTER 50

AURIA

I should’ve known I was going to be followed. Paxon wasn’t done simply because he had walked away in the woods. He only wanted me alone.

With that knowledge, I should’ve barricaded the front door as soon as I came inside, but not even seconds after walking in, the door was flying open.

Paxon shut it behind him, not moving from his spot near the entrance as he stared me down. I stood in the kitchen, bottle of bourbon in hand, just about to take a sip. Between Bowen feeling betrayed by me for not telling him what Paxon had meant, my father coming to Deadwood to retrieve me, and the kiss in the spring, my mind was a tornado. Alcohol might only make that worse, but it might also numb the thoughts I couldn’t get a grasp on. The only coherent one that rang clear was the one I didn’t know what to do with.

Leaving here was not what I wanted.

“Drinking is a bad habit,” Paxon chastised.

“So is trying to control the people around you, but alas.” I threw my head back, the rich liquid stinging my throat as it went down. The glass hit the wood counter with a dull thud as I set it down.

Paxon’s gaze roamed the room, as if he hadn’t seen it multiple times before. “Those who sit and wait rarely get what they desire.”

“And what is it you desire?” I asked, only to make him get to the fucking point.

Those sharp, devious eyes planted their sights on me. “Power.”

I scoffed. “You’ll hardly get that with me. A war is more likely.”

He ignored my statement. “You and Lander have come to an agreement to end the engagement.”

Satisfaction shone in his gaze now, whether at the fact that Lander and I didn’t have the ability to end it or that my only option was to go with him if the wedding truly wasn’t going to happen. I hadn’t forgotten his ultimatum.

Marry Lander or go with him.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet,” I lied.

“I gave you until the bridge was repaired, and with King Tenere currently on his way, it seems that time is up.”

“Not yet.” The bridge might be repaired, but I was still in Deadwood.

I should have told Bowen what Paxon had meant. I should have told him a long time ago, if I was being honest with myself. Bowen had given me no reason not to trust him, and yet, I was always on high alert around him. Maybe not in the way I was when in danger, though. Perhaps I had been reading myself wrong, and it was desire that coursed through me like a river. Whatever it was, I could lean on Bowen. That much was certain.

Paxon’s head cocked to the side, like he could sense my thoughts. “You want to stay in this wasteland.”

My lips pressed together as I refused to voice my answer. It was an unreachable dream, and yet…

Paxon threw his head back in a laugh, the sound echoing through the too-quiet house, despite the chaos that ensued just outside the walls on the main street. “I should’ve known,” Paxon continued. “Auria, the daughter of a king, wants to live with lawless lowlifes.”

If only he knew just how powerful Deadwood really was, he wouldn’t be making these accusations.

Still, I did not speak.

“Are you more upset about having to choose between Lander and my offer or that you’ll be leaving your precious, worthless Bowen?”

“He is not worthless,” I defended, falling right into his trap.

A devilish smile pulled at his mouth. “You’re right,” Paxon admitted. “Not with the plans he has in place.”

With that, he turned, pulling open the door to leave me in the silence. His words bounced around my head, but I wouldn’t believe them. Not after seeing who Bowen truly was. Paxon was trying to plant a seed, and I wouldn’t let it bury itself in my mind.

Not being able to take another second of the quiet, I headed for the door, leaving the bottle of bourbon uncorked on the counter. I closed the door behind me and beelined for Bowen’s house. He was the only one who could settle any doubts creeping up on me.

I wouldn’t let Paxon win in his effort to turn me against Bowen.

I crossed the porch and tapped my knuckles against the wood door, waiting. I knocked again, but heard no footsteps from within. I should’ve gone back to my house and waited for him, but I didn’t want to be there or chance seeing Paxon again.

I tried the handle, and to my surprise, it was unlocked. Stepping across the threshold, I closed the door behind me, surveying the room.

“Bowen?”

Silence met me, so I took to the stairs, heading for his room. The door was wide open, and the familiar sight made me stop in my tracks in the doorway. The space was so empty without him in it. Memories of my healing from the wolf bite flashed through my mind. Bowen lying in that bed with me while I healed, holding me through my nightmares as my mind brought me back to my dark past while in my vulnerable state.

Bowen seemed to have changed that day, seeing me in a new light. One so bright that his eyes had opened to a whole new possibility between us. One I hadn’t considered myself, but welcomed willingly. Through all the bickering and slight disdain for each other, Bowen had grown on me.

I crossed the room, trailing a finger up the smooth sheet covering his bed. My hand reached his pillow and paused, tracing where his head might lie when he rests. When his mind finally let its guard down for a short period of time to wonder up dreams he wished were reachable, or possibly nightmares that anchored him during the day, keeping his defensive mood on strike at all times. Perhaps he’d thought of me at times while his bed comforted his tired body, imagining me beside him, like I’d let my mind wander to a time or two before.

But not in this life could that happen.

A perfect circle of moisture dropped to the fabric, and I swiped a hand under my eye to find it was a tear. Wiping my cheeks dry, my fingers trailed to the necklace resting over my collarbone, fiddling with the charm, like it might bring me some sense of hope that there was a good outcome after all of this.

But my hope didn’t sit in Amosite or with my father. It sat with Bowen and the hospitality he showed me and my people, even though he didn’t have to. He’d protected me time and time again, and after tonight, I would never see him again.

I didn’t want to think of the possibility of it, but I knew it was the truth. Today might have been our last day together, and I’d kept something from him, hurting him in the process. That wasn’t how I wanted to leave.

I didn’t want to leave at all.

Bringing my hands around the back of my neck, I pushed my hair out of the way, draping it over one shoulder to unclasp the necklace. Resecuring the clasp, I laid the jewelry on his pillow, then took a step back.

My eyes wandered the room, taking in everything I was too shy to look at before. The trinkets on the bookshelves lining one of the walls, and all the spines begging to be opened. I crossed to what had to be hundreds of books, admiring the gold foiling adorning so many of them.

I trailed the tip of my finger through the dust on the rich brown shelf, walking until I got to the end, when my focus snagged on a piece of paper sticking out between two pieces of text. Letting curiosity get the best of me, I slid the parchment out. It had been folded multiple times.

Carefully opening it, my eyes scanned the paper, finding it to be a map of a building and its outer perimeter. Multiple x’s covered specific areas of the map, and upon closer inspection, recognition hit me in the gut.

It was a drawing of a castle.

Amosite’s castle.

My home.

My brows furrowed as I searched the parchment, looking for any indication of what the x’s might mean or why Bowen might have a perfectly drawn map of the place I had grown up.

Was Paxon telling the truth? That Bowen wanted to destroy Amosite?

Was this a log of rooms they had cleared for some reason? Combed through? Were they planning an ambush of some kind?

Why would Bowen need to keep track of something like this? For what ?

Realizing I would find no answers staring at a paper with a potential plan to decimate my home, I quickly folded it to its original state and shoved it back where I’d found it. Crossing to the bed, I grabbed my necklace from the pillow and beelined for the door.

Whatever the map was, it couldn’t be good. To mark x’s over specific rooms in the castle? There was no good reason for that.

Bowen might be able to explain, but?—

Excuses .

I’d let myself believe his words, let him kiss me. Let him see parts of me I’d never let anyone else see, only to find this?

A dull ache started to form with the thoughts spiraling through me. If nothing was truly as it seemed, was I even capable of making decisions? Could I trust anyone at this point?

My mind swirled with heavy emotions, causing the pang to quickly turn into a pounding headache as I descended the stairs and stormed outside. As soon as I was on the porch and the humid air hit me, a sharp pain split through my head. With the necklace grasped in my palm, I held my forehead, setting my other hand on the wooden beam to support myself.

My stomach soured as the pain became almost unbearable. A gasp passed my lips as something sharp and cold hit me in the side of my neck. Immediately, my vision went blurry, and the beam tilted sideways. Or was that me?

It had to have been the latter as my shoulder slammed into the splintering wood porch, sending a shockwave of pain through me. Polished boots appeared in my vision, and I tried to look up to see who they were attached to, but my eyes were too heavy, and my mind was going dark.

Strong hands gripped me as the fog took over, and everything went black.