Page 38 of Pippa of Lauramore (The Eldentimber #1)

M y feet don’t make a sound as I sneak through the great hall and out the garden doors. Once outside, I check that my hood is hiding my face, and I continue, staying to the shadows where I can.

I sent a message to Archer through Leonora that I wanted to see him, and she brought his answer back. He said to meet here, in the courtyard, by the waterfall.

I see a figure by the half wall, and I slide behind a tree, concealing myself in its darkness.

For a moment, the man is only a silhouette as a cloud moves away from the bright light of the almost full moon.

The light illuminates the mist beyond him and makes him look ethereal in the night.

Another cloud slides over the sky, and it’s dark again.

I glance around, checking to see if there is anyone near, but the courtyard is empty.

I cough so Archer knows I’m here. He nods and turns to the back gate.

I follow, not too close in case someone were to see us.

A sliver of jagged lightning cuts across the horizon, and thunder follows, a distant warning in the night. A raindrop hits my cheek; then one falls on my arm. There’s another rumble, and then yet another joins it, even louder.

Archer pauses near the back gate and motions for me to come to him.

“Pull your hood low,” he says, his voice soft. “And stay with me. Since you were kidnapped, your father has set guards at all the gates.”

I smooth my hair back and give the hood another tug. I follow Archer and keep my head and eyes lowered. My heart pounds at a frantic pace.

What will happen if I’m caught now that Lionel has won?

I hang back as Archer speaks to the guards. I don’t dare look up. There’s the sound of chains against metal, and the door opens. They’re letting us through.

Archer holds his hand out, and I take it, hesitating for a moment. Our palms meet, and his fingers wind into mine. I close my eyes and let him pull me along.

I’ll remember this moment—the thunder in the distance, the smell of the impending storm in the cooling summer air, and Archer’s warm, rough hand leading me into the black of the night.

We turn from the path and follow a trail into the trees, walking several minutes, neither of us speaking. I hear a horse before I see it, and I’m not surprised to come around a bend and see Archer’s mare saddled and waiting for us.

He holds out his hand to give me a boost. Instead of climbing up, I turn to him and set my hands on his shoulders. His woolen cloak is rough under my fingers, and I run my hand along the fabric. “Archer, I?—”

He shakes his head, his eyes searching mine in the darkness. “Not yet.”

I nod and throw my leg over the horse. He pulls himself up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist as he guides the horse deeper into the forest.

I’m not sure if it’s the midnight woods or if it’s Archer, but the smell of pine, wood fires, and a dark forest floor littered with years of fallen leaves is intoxicating. I lean against him and close my eyes.

I know from the direction we’re taking he’s headed to the woodman’s cottage. It only takes a quarter hour to reach the clearing. We pass through a thick patch of trees, and then the little house comes into view. The windows glow with warm light. He must have prepared it earlier this evening.

Butterflies stir in my stomach.

Archer drops from the horse and holds his hand out to me. I pull my leg over, tugging at my gown so it doesn’t catch. His hands are at my waist, lowering me to the ground.

“Pippa,” he whispers.

His eyes are gray in the night, but they’re aquamarine in my mind. He pulls me closer, wrapping his arms around me. I settle my head against the rough cloak and slide my arms over his shoulders, my hands settling at his neck.

I hope he can’t feel how I’m shaking.

He pushes my hood back, and I shiver as he frees my hair from the cloak and strokes it. He sets his chin on the top of my head.

Something inside me finally breaks. Tears spill out and run down my cheeks, but for once I don’t care if I cry. My shoulders shake, and Archer pulls me closer. He wraps his hand gently in my hair and holds me like he’ll never let go, like we’ll be like this forever.

But we won’t.

I shake my head and take a step back, willing the tears to stop. This isn’t how I want to spend our last few hours together. I swipe at the tears, but Archer nudges my hand to the side and wipes the drops away with his thumb.

A crash of thunder immediately follows a bright flash of lightning. A raindrop falls on my arm, and then another lands in my hair. Moments later, the sky opens up, and great sheets of rain pour from the clouds.

“Come on.” Archer grabs my hand and pulls me to the cottage. He throws the door open, and we dash under the door frame. “Pippa, I don’t know?—”

I shush him, pressing my fingers to his mouth. With a trembling hand, I trace his lips, and he inhales sharply. Gathering my courage, I stand on the tips of my toes and lean in.

He stops me, setting his hands on my wrists. “No, Pippa. We can’t.”

“Why not?” I ask, though I can think of several reasons myself.

He gives me a wry smile. “The ring, for starters.”

I step away from him, never looking away from his eyes. I tug the gold ring from my finger, hold it front of him, and then throw it into the rain .

Archer watches, almost emotionless. We stare at the ring, half-sunken in the mud. The firelight reflects the droplets of water beading on the metal surface. I glance back when I feel him turn toward me. In less than a heartbeat his hands are on my waist, and I’m against him.

“Pippa,” he says, his voice deep and almost irritated.

He holds me tight, and I wrap my fingers in the short, rain-damp hair at the base of his neck.

“I have thousands of lonely days stretching in front of me,” I say. “Millions and millions of lonely minutes where my only happiness will come from memories. I’ve never kissed you, Archer. How can I be happy with memories if none of them are of being kissed by you?”

There’s a war in his eyes, but he’s close enough that his breath tickles my lips. So close—but so far if he changes his mind.

“I want your lips to be the first to touch mine. The only ones that will ever matter to me.” I tilt my head up slightly closer, and my voice breaks. “Please, Archer.”

He groans, setting his forehead against mine. “Do you know how I’m going to miss you, Pippa? Do you have any idea? How am I going to go on?”

“With memories. If you love me, kiss me .”

And he does.

His lips barely brush across mine, and then he angles back. His hand trails from my back to my hair, and then he meets my eyes. He looks dark and reckless, and I can barely breathe.

“Archer,” I say, feeling weightless, tingly, and desperately wanting more.

“Pippa, you have no idea,” he says. He kisses the corner of my lips. “How long I’ve wanted that.” His lips move to the other side of my mouth.

I sigh in answer. I can’t speak. I’m too overwhelmed by the fierce emotions churning inside me.

Both of his hands are in my hair, twining the strands through his fingers, and then once again, his lips are on mine. Years of longing bubble from me, and I move into the kiss, feeling like everything we’ve ever been to each other finally makes sense.

There’s nothing else, only Archer. No tournament, no Lionel—just me and him and this moment hidden in the cottage in the forest.

When he pulls away, I sigh and melt against him. My heart is beating at a wild, chaotic pace. Diving from cliffs, racing Willowisp through the forest—nothing compares to this heady feeling.

His arms wrap around me, holding me close.

I lay my head against his chest. I can feel his heart through his tunic, and it’s racing like mine.

We stay like this until the lightning is distant and the thunder is only a far-off rumble.

The rain still falls, but it’s a gentle shower instead of a torrential downpour.

He finally pulls away and fetches my ring from the mud. The metal is far from tarnished, even if it has lost some of its luster.

Archer takes my hand in his and gently slides the ring on my finger. I close my eyes, feeling the ache of longing. I never knew I could regret the loss of something that was never mine.

I look down, studying the gray boards under my feet. “ Never once have I thought of leaving and never coming back.” I look up, meeting his eyes. “Not until tonight.”

His lips are on mine again, soft and sweetly possessive. “You say the words, and we’ll go,” he answers, his voice serious. “But know there will be repercussions.”

The insult would be too great. Vernow would declare war against Lauramore.

I shake my head, feeling lost and angry. “Will I see you again?”

“I don’t know,” he answers as he trails sweet kisses down my jaw. “But know that no matter where you are, I’ll be wishing I were with you.”

How do I go back? How do I walk away from this?

The rain is now a light drizzle, and from the darkness, I hear the first bird of the morning sing from a nearby tree.

“It’s time, Pippa.”

“Wait,” I say, pulling his chin down so he’s looking in my eyes. I take a deep breath. “I love you, Archer.”

He smiles, though his eyes are sad. “I’ve always loved you, Pippa.”