Page 26 of Hunger in His Blood (Brides of the Kylorr #3)

CHAPTER 26

ERINA

M uch like at my old room in Vyaan keep, my room at the inn in Laras held a small window, one that overlooked a bustling street of the market.

Laras was just like in the stories. The imposing and bustling capital city of the nation, with Azur of House Kaalium at the helm. He’d married a human woman, I’d heard, from a noble family from the New Earth colonies. Gemma, I believed her name was. I’d heard their names mentioned in passing more times than I could count as I’d searched for Luc these last two weeks.

The address where I’d been posting letters to hadn’t seen him in over two months. It had been a temporary home, nothing more than a room rental.

He hadn’t been receiving any of my letters.

Worry had been my constant companion ever since I’d discovered his absence. I didn’t know how else to find him. The keeper of the building, whose name was Ikrin, had grumbled that he didn’t enquire about his renters’ personal lives. Luc had paid for the room by the week, and then one week he’d stopped paying. His things were gone, and Ikrin hadn’t seen him since .

That’s how it is, Ikrin had said, shrugging, seeming annoyed he’d been wasting his time speaking with me. These workers come and go. One letter did come for him a few days ago.

It had been mine—posted from Vyaan.

Ikrin had told me little else. All of my questions about Luc’s well-being or state of mind had been met with a raised brow and an expression of amusement. Then he’d shooed me away, firmly closing the door behind me.

For a few days, I’d lingered around the building, just in case Luc returned or passed by. Finally, annoyed by my continued presence, Ikrin had told me to go to the archives if I was looking for someone. They might have record of him there, he’d said.

But after two days spent in the archives, I’d realized that was a dead end as well. Residents weren’t required to submit their information to the archives upon arrival, though they were meant to. Julin, the Bartutian archivist, had tried to help me as much as he could. But he’d said it was nearly impossible to keep accurate records of those living in Laras, since so many came and went.

That struck fear in me because what if something had happened to Luc? What if he was hurt? Or what if he wasn’t even here? And if he’d left, why hadn’t he written? Why hadn’t he told me?

All I knew was that he ran a shop somewhere within Laras—and I was chastising myself for not asking for the address in my letters.

My only comfort was that Kaldur, of all people, had found him. He’d told me that there was a Luc Denoren living in Laras because he’d checked, hadn’t he?

But I’m not a son of the Kaalium, I thought. I didn’t have the resources—or the money—to find Luc on my own. Laras was huge, the villages sprawling out from the capital’s center in all directions, like rippling waves from the sea. Not to mention the bustling city center itself, where a plethora of people lived in charming little buildings and the crowds grew so large in the afternoons that it could get difficult to wade through.

Two weeks I’d searched already. And I was beginning to lose hope. I couldn’t afford to. Both figuratively and literally.

I’d checked my creditory account and taken out all the money that was left. My room at the cozy inn I’d found—small but clean—was nearly fifty credits a night. A hefty price, but I’d quickly discovered that everything was more expensive in Laras than in Vyaan.

I’d already spent over 1,000 credits—one vron —on food and lodgings during my time here. I had a little over three vron left. It would last me another two or three weeks if I was careful. Four weeks if I moved into the building that Luc had rented out, and maybe then, he might return.

And that was how I found myself packing up from my little room with the window view of Laras…and moving into an even smaller room with thin walls and a sagging mattress. The same room that Luc had stayed in, according to Ikrin on my return to him. He’d only been too happy to rent it out to me, since he’d had trouble filling it.

This room had a small window that overlooked what I thought might’ve been docks in the distance. From here, there was a tiny sliver of the Silver Sea visible. When the sun rose, it looked like a golden crescent.

I could have stayed at the other inn if I’d kept Kaldur’s payment, I couldn’t help but think.

No.

I’d done my best to not think about him, though he still slipped into my mind when my guard was down. I would remember a flash of his curling, beautiful smile, and my heart would ache so fiercely. Was it possible to both detest and miss someone at the same time?

What was done was done. I’d made my choice, and Kaldur had made his…to believe terrible things about me. But even if Ve lle—and possibly Lydrasa—hadn’t been in his ear, he still wouldn’t have wanted me. Because I would always be a keeper in his eyes, one he mistrusted, one he would always believe was trying to take from him.

Move forward, I ordered myself, shaking him from my thoughts, ignoring the way my heart thudded, the way it pinched and compressed in my chest.

I don’t need to ask Syndras anymore what heartbreak feels like , I thought morosely.

No one had ever warned me how much it hurt . Or how invasive the other person was in your thoughts even when all you wanted was to forget.

I needed to find work. If I had any intention of starting a life here, I needed a consistent income. There was no shortage of noble Houses within Laras. Surely, with my references, one of them would hire me.

But I knew that might be a reach. Keepers found their work through their connections, usually on the direct recommendation of someone else, someone they knew. That was how I’d gotten work at Kaldur’s keep, after all—Syndras of House Terasyn had recommended me to Maudoric.

I knew no nobles in Laras. Only Luc, and I couldn’t even find him.

I thought I might have better luck at one of the inns, so the next day, I targeted the ones around the busy marketplace. There was no shortage of people gathered there in the afternoons and evenings, and I hoped it would give me a better chance of spotting Luc as I searched for work.

Three inns later and I’d been sent out from nearly every one, even the one I’d stayed at.

The fourth, however, called Kyndri’s Landing, took me. The owner, a Kylorr female named Kyndri had, by chance, just let go her former keeper for stealing from her patrons’ rooms.

The inn itself was farther away than I would’ve wanted from the main center square and even farther from my room at Irkin’s. But Kyndri had seemed pleasant enough, if a little overworked. I didn’t mention I’d worked in Kaldur’s keep, because I thought it might raise her suspicions, or she might think I was lying. But I gave her a list of references, which she only waved away.

“You worked in noble Houses? That’s good enough for me. If you steal from the rooms, though, I’ll make sure you never find work in Laras again. Yes?” Kyndri said, waiting for my reply. Perhaps an empty threat, meant to frighten me, but I couldn’t know for certain. Maybe Laras was like Vyaan, after all—and everyone talked.

“I would never,” I protested, thinking about the shard of the green vase I’d stolen from Kaldur’s keep. That had been different, however.

“Good,” she barked, inclining her head as she served a human male, who smiled at me a little too broadly, a foaming brew in a brown jug at the bar. “Pay is fifty credits for a full day. You can find the uniforms through the door there and any cleaning supplies you need. You can do a sweep of the rooms now. Everyone should be out until evening.”

And that was how I found myself working at a sleepy little inn in Laras, for virtually half the pay I’d made at Kaldur’s keep. But it would keep a roof over my head. For now.

I huffed out a breath, trying to breathe through my mouth as I scrubbed the floor of one of the guest rooms. I’d walked in to vomit on the floor, no doubt from the drunk guest who had staggered out mere moments before.

The cleaning supplies were making me nauseous—or perhaps it was the stench of bodily fluids mixed with brew. One thing was for certain…after a week of working at Kyndri’s Landing, I wo uld never drink brew again. I didn’t think I’d be able to stomach it after all the things I’d cleaned up.

I sat up, wiping the clean part of my arm over my forehead. Closing my eyes, I tried to fight the nausea rising, but the entire room stunk. From cleaning solutions and soap and vomit and sweaty musk. I rose, going to the window to open it, this one overlooking the main street below since it was right over the entrance of the inn.

I breathed in the fresh air, letting the cool breeze drift over my cheeks. It was warmer here in Laras, situated along the Silver Sea coast. Vyaan must’ve been getting its first frost by now.

A sudden pang of longing went through me. I missed Vyaan. I missed my home, the only place I’d ever known. I missed my mornings in the village, sipping on spiced tea as I watched the square come alive. I missed my small room in the keep, the quiet of the morning, warm in my bed as I sketched. I missed those brief days I’d had in Kaldur’s garden, a newly discovered heaven that had filled me with so much inspiration.

I missed Kaldur …and I hated it. But how did one go from thinking about someone every day for two years to trying to ignore they even existed? Especially with House Kaalium’s influence all over Laras?

You remember how he offered to make you his mistress because he thought you would angle to be his wife for money and status. You remember that he called you young and naive, that he said he could never love you, I thought. That’s how you get over it.

I let out a bubble of laughter that sounded pathetic to my own ears. I watched the people passing by below. Mostly they were working people in this district, who came to lunch from the nearby docks and the fields that lay to the north. Kylorr and human and Bartutian alike. Males and females. Young and old.

When I saw Luc, it was by pure chance.

I had happened to tilt my head to look down the road, and right at that moment, I saw him crossing over to the next street .

I gasped and nearly choked.

“Luc!” I bellowed from the window.

My voice echoed around the tall buildings, funneled down the road straight to him. I saw the hybrid Kylorr freeze in place, turn his head to figure out where his name had come from.

“Wait, Luc! Stay right there!”

People were looking at me from down below, but I paid them no mind. My heart was rushing, racing in my chest, and I felt excitement and hope and relief crash over me like a wave.

He’s okay. He’s safe. He’s here, I thought. Over and over again.

I’d found him.

I rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping.

Kyndri’s gaze jerked up from behind the bar, frowning. “What are you?—”

“I’ll be right back!” I rushed out, the words tumbling from me, and I flew through the entrance of the inn, taking a sharp right and sprinting down the road.

He was still there, still looking around. A frown on his features.

“Luc!” I called, grinning, happy tears making my vision blurry. “Luc, I’m here!”

His gaze finally connected with mine. For a moment, he blinked, confused. Then realization slotted into place.

“Erina?” he asked, his eyes widening. “Gods, how are?—”

But I cut him off, nearly knocking him off his feet when I barreled into him.

His arms came around me as I clung to him. He smelled briny, like the sea, and he was leaner than I remembered. But his embrace was most welcome even though I hadn’t hugged him since he’d left Vyaan. It had been almost ten years. Ten years since I’d seen him last.

I squeezed his clothes between my fists. “I’ve been looking for you. I feared…I thought… ”

But I descended into sobs, and Luc only tried to calm me down.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry,” I whispered.

But I couldn’t stop the tears. I was just so relieved. I didn’t know how long we stood in the middle of the street, in broad daylight, as dozens and dozens of people milled around us, staring.

But I didn’t care.

Luc was here.

Maybe my luck had finally turned.