Captive and Crowned

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Captive and Crowned Page 26

by Elizabeth Newsom


  She leaned back on her heels. “Really, Alaric? You’re so helpless and weak that you need me to carry you to bed? Like a baby?”

  His eyes fluttered open, his brows plummeting. Score.

  “I didn’t know you expected your queen to be your nursemaid.”

  He slowly sat up. “I require no nursemaid.”

  “Prove it. Get yourself in the bed.”

  He began to stand, and the towel slid.

  Heat scorched her cheeks. “Whoa! With your towel.”

  He grumbled but adjusted the towel around his waist before lumbering to his feet, briefly offering her a view of his scarred back. Evelyn followed him out of the room, and after rifling through her plastic grocery bags, found some nighttime flu medicine. Well, even if the medicine didn’t work on Torvans, hopefully he’d get some sleep.

  Evelyn poured the cherry-colored syrup into the plastic cap and stopped by the side of the bed. “I have some medicine for you.”

  “And you won’t leave me be until it’s administered, will you?” He didn’t open his eyes as he spoke.

  “Nope.”

  He sighed before slitting his eyes open and sitting back against the pillows.

  She held the cap to his lips, and he swallowed it with a grimace. After giving him a bottle of water to wash down the medicine, she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Now it was time for her shower.

  She shed her vomit-encrusted clothes before rinsing them beneath the shower water and tossing them into the sink. She stepped into the shower and embraced the hot water as it sluiced down her skin. With some finger combing, she washed and detangled her hair.

  When she stepped out of the shower, she felt refreshed. Even the air in her lungs felt crisper. She wrapped the towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam escaping with her.

  Alaric hadn’t moved since she’d left, his eyes closed as he slept. She crept closer to him and ducked under his wing, which nearly brushed the wall of the room. His lips were parted, and his expression was completely slack. His dark brows curved over his closed eyes, as smooth and black as a raven’s wings. Evelyn curled a stray lock of his hair around her finger before tucking it behind his ear.

  She dropped into the armchair, feeling like the last dregs of her energy had been drained. She cast one last glance at Alaric, to ensure he slept soundly, and a glance at the door, to ensure it was locked. Then she let herself be pulled into the darkness of slumber.

  Something slid around the back of her neck.

  Evelyn jolted awake, her heart crashing against her ribs. Had an assassin snuck in while she’d slept?

  “Forgive me. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Alaric’s rich voice rolled over her like a cool breeze, and the tension within her unspooled.

  “Did you need something? More water?” She began to sit up, clasping her towel against her chest, but Alaric stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

  “I’m fine, Evelyn. I awoke a half-hour ago and took the opportunity to shower again—and make use of the toothpaste you bought.” He chuckled softly. “I’ve just finished, and I was preparing to move you to the bed. You’ll likely sleep better there than in the armchair.”

  “But where would you sleep?”

  “The armchair.”

  “But, Alaric, you’re much bigger than I am, and—”

  A calloused finger touched her lips, and she startled as warmth washed over her face. For such a small, innocent touch, it was surprisingly distracting.

  “No, Evelyn. You’ve spent the past few hours caring for me. Now, allow me to do the same for you.” His arms twined around her, one beneath her knees, and the other around her shoulders.

  She pressed a hand against his chest, preparing to renew her protests, but the feel of his smooth skin against hers stopped her. As close as they were, she could smell the fresh scent of mint on his breath. She sucked in a breath, unprepared for another blast of heat that warmed her face and body.

  Alaric stilled. His arms remained around her, but he didn’t lift her from the armchair. “Is something amiss?”

  “You’re–you’re not wearing any clothes.” Except for a towel—she hoped.

  “Neither are you, Evelyn.” Laughter laced his voice, and she felt her flush deepen. “There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he continued.

  Right. Torvans had night vision, which meant he’d had a full view of each blush and expression that had crossed her face.

  “Well, I think it’s normal to be embarrassed when you’re clothed in nothing but a towel,” she said.

  “But we’re married, and there are certain intimacies that are shared between a husband and his wife.”

  And they’d shared none of those intimacies. Judging from the uneasy silence that followed, her expression had communicated what words hadn’t.

  “Evelyn… I know you haven’t asked for this. Marriage to me, that is.” He drew in a deep breath, his chest swelling until it brushed her side. “But I wanted to thank you. Initially, I know the transition was difficult for you.”

  To say the least.

  “But you’ve developed much within the past few months, and to be quite frank, I’m honored to have you as my queen. And my wife.” His voice thickened with emotion.

  Evelyn swallowed tightly to keep her own emotions at bay. “Thank you, Alaric. And I’m honestly pleased with how our marriage has turned out. It wasn’t something I initially wanted but I’ve learned a lot through it, like being a little less selfish. I’m really glad that we’re together.”

  He wrapped his arms more firmly around her, until she could feel the quickening beat of his heart within his chest. “Truly, Evelyn?”

  She glanced up at him with a smile, wishing she could see his eyes in the dark. “Yes.”

  Another silence followed, and she could practically sense the desire thrumming within him. The very air between them seemed to grow hotter, and yet he did nothing.

  She slid her hand up his chest, then his neck, and curved it around his cheek. “Well?”

  “What?”

  “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

  He gently ran his knuckles along her jawline. “Would that please you, Evelyn?”

  “If it would please you too.”

  “Very much so.”

  He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth that left her skin tingling with awareness. Then his lips caught hers, and he wasted no time in slanting his head to deepen the kiss.

  His grip alone revealed the depth of his emotion in the way his hands cupped her curves and how his arms encircled her—gently enough to suggest tenderness, firmly enough to suggest passion.

  She was surprised at how pleasant, even addictive, she found his touch. A yearning sparked within her, to have more of him, to draw him closer.

  His hand trailed up her side, searing her skin even through the towel wrapped around her. Was he going to pull her towel off? Join her in the bed? Fire burned low in her stomach at the thought.

  And then chill air replaced his touch. Evelyn’s gaze blindly searched for him in the dark. She’d give anything to read his expression in this moment, to understand why he’d pulled away from her.

  “Alaric?”

  “I’m here.”

  His arms wrapped around her again, and she caught her breath, anticipating his kiss. But it never came. He lifted her from the armchair, and when he lowered her, a soft mattress cushioned her backside.

  Before he could release her, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

  “The hour is late, Evelyn. You need your rest.”

  “Is that why you pulled away? Because you feared I might not get enough sleep?”

  His sigh caressed her face. “No, it’s not. Where you’re concerned, I don’t want to push anything, Evelyn. You’re far too precious for me to be in a rush, and I want you to be ready.”

  “But I am—”

  He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. “If y
ou’d like, we can speak about this on the morrow. After you’ve talked to your mother.”

  Which meant he still planned to try and visit her mother rather than returning to Torva. “But, Alaric, you were just poisoned. Surely it’d be safest for us to return to Torva.” She hated to make the suggestion, but she wasn’t going to risk Alaric’s life.

  “How would I have been poisoned?”

  “You ate the bread from Torva right before you got sick. That would be my best guess. I threw out the Torvan food from our backpacks, just to be on the safe side.”

  “The kitchen servants who packed our things are well-trusted,” he said.

  “So was my maid.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She pressed a hand to his cheek, letting her thumb graze his stubble. “I think this has something to do with the Scorpio.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “While I was at the grocery store, a girl asked me if I was Evelyn and said a few guys had been looking around for me. They were tall, they had a picture of both of us, and their speech was similar to mine.”

  “I see. Then it’s all the more urgent we leave.”

  “For Torva?”

  She felt him shake his head, his stubble rasping against her palm. “We’ll visit your mother first.”

  “You’re not worried about the Scorpio catching us?”

  “I am, but I don’t want them to ruin this for you, Evelyn. And I’m not certain we’ll be able to journey to Earth again so soon once we return to Torva.”

  Hope filled her heart, until it threatened to burst at the seams. She would get to see her mother, then. Her lifelong dream was about to become reality.

  “We’ll leave in the morning once you awake.”

  She nodded. “I agree. But I have one condition.”

  “What?”

  “Before you leave me to go sleep in the armchair, I’d like a goodnight kiss.”

  A chuckle escaped from him, the sound prompting her to smile back. “I think that can be arranged.”

  When he neared, she expected a sweet, chaste kiss. But this one lasted even longer than the last, and when he withdrew, she found herself gasping for air. She pressed a hand to her chest, lest her heart should beat any harder and burst through.

  “Good night, Evelyn.” His voice was low and husky as he withdrew.

  She laid back on the bed, listening to the armchair squeak and his wings rustle as he settled. She couldn’t stop thinking of his kiss—and wishing he would kiss her again. She touched her slightly swollen lips.

  Alaric felt strongly for her, which was a surprise in itself, but what she found even more shocking was her own reaction. Just over a week ago, she hadn’t felt any attraction toward him.

  So what had changed?

  The Next Day

  Evelyn stretched her limbs out with a moan, and her towel shifted, allowing a cool draft of air to graze her skin. Hopefully her clothes were dry by now.

  She propped her elbows beneath her and sat up. She was lying on the bed, and Alaric was nowhere to be seen. She clasped her towel to her chest and rolled out of bed. “Alaric?”

  The bathroom door swung open. “I’m here.”

  Alaric stood in the doorframe, his wings once more tucked into the backpack. It seemed his clothes had dried.

  His gaze raked her figure before settling on her face. “If you’d like to dress, your clothes are dry as well.” He jerked his chin toward the bathroom.

  He seemed a bit cooler than his ardent kiss a few hours ago would have suggested. Maybe she’d imagined his emotion or the medicine had been messing with his head.

  “Thanks.” The room felt too narrow as she edged around him to slip into the bathroom, her skin warming when her arm grazed his.

  Evelyn shut the bathroom door behind her, locked it, and pressed her back against it. She could probably just chalk up these weird feelings to hormones. Yeah, that was it. Hormones.

  She picked her clothes up out of the sink. They were still damp, but no way was she going back out there in only a towel. She tugged her clothes on and finger combed her hair before emerging from the bathroom.

  Alaric was filling both their backpacks with toiletries and the snacks she’d bought.

  She plopped onto the bed. “We’re leaving now?”

  “Yes. I believe I’m fully recovered, and we shouldn’t delay any further.”

  “If you’re certain.”

  Alaric seated himself next to her, his weight causing her to tilt toward him, until the side of her leg was pressed to his. She didn’t move, lest Alaric think his proximity affected her somehow. She didn’t want to talk about whatever she felt until she fully understood it herself.

  “Are you worried about the Scorpio, Evelyn?”

  “Honestly, I’m more worried about you.”

  The reserve in his gaze melted. “Then you needn’t concern yourself. Today belongs to you, and I wouldn’t want your worries about myself to dampen your happiness.”

  He lifted his hand, and Evelyn stared, unsure of what he was trying to show her. Then, ever so slowly, he tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear.

  Her gaze dropped to her lap as she fought to suppress the maelstrom of emotions his touch stirred.

  Alaric snatched his hand back before rising, putting distance between them. “I’ve nearly finished packing. Tell me when you’re ready.” With that, he slung his backpack on his shoulder, swiped the keys from the table, and left the room.

  Evelyn pasted her forehead to the glass window, willing herself not to be sick all over her new dress. Alaric had been kind enough to stop at Goodwill, so she could wear something nicer than her sink-washed hiking clothes.

  The thought of seeing her mother launched a flurry of butterflies in her stomach as bile threatened to singe the back of her throat. She moaned. She was supposed to be super excited right now, not super nervous.

  “Do you need to stop?”

  Two days ago, she’d been the one asking Alaric. Evelyn drew in a slow breath. “I’m fine. How much farther?”

  “Ten minutes. We’re traveling to her place of employment, since I was unable to find where she resides.”

  “Where does she work?”

  “A Cracker Barrel in Colorado Springs. According to my research, it appears to be a Southern-themed eating establishment and gift shop. They sell homestyle comfort food, such as mashed potatoes, fried chicken, biscuits—”

  Evelyn laughed. “Alaric, I know what Cracker Barrel is. I’m pretty sure every American does.” She had good memories of that place, eating all the fried apples she could hold, shopping for Christmas presents, losing over and over at that stupid triangle peg game—much to Mason’s amusement.

  Thinking about him still caused a tiny cramp in her chest, but she hoped he was happy. Their last conversation still rang vividly in her ears:

  Evelyn, your mom left your family because she wanted to be left alone.

  It’s really sweet that you want to find your mom, Ev, but expecting her to adopt you or some crap like that is unrealistic. Maybe you could, I don’t know, grow up a bit?

  And another thing: your father is right—about everything, especially your mom. She left because she didn’t love you anymore. And I’m leaving because neither do I.

  Mason had just said those things out of anger. He’d been using her deepest secrets and wishes against her, but what if he were right? Her stomach twisted, until it felt like a rock sat at the bottom of her gut, threatening to rip through her abdomen.

  He was right: how likely was it that her mother would really want her?

  “Alaric?”

  “Yes?”

  “Can we turn around? Please?”

  “Turn around?”

  She sighed, and condensation blossomed across the car window. “I want to go back to Torva.”

  “But what about your mother?”

  “I’m not sure I want to see her anymore.”

  Alaric fell so silent she glanced over to make
sure he was still there. He flicked on the blinker and exited before pulling into a brick gas station. He turned to face her. “Evelyn, you’ve wanted this even before you came to Torva, and we’re so close.”

  She stared at the glass gas station doors. A sticker read: $1 Any Size Drink. “Maybe we can grab something here before we head back.”

  “Evelyn.” Alaric gripped her shoulders and turned her to face him. His eyes brimmed with compassion, his gaze softer than she’d ever seen it.

  She felt her expression crumple and buried her face into her hands just before the waterworks started. Tuteno. If Alaric had only pretended not to care, then she could’ve done the same.

  “Evelyn?” Alaric gently pulled her hands from her face and peered up into her eyes. “What’s wrong? What can I do to help?”

  She shook her head, and a few stray tears fled down her cheeks. “My mom won’t like me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Evelyn swiped the heel of her palm against her cheek. “Why would she?”

  “Because you’re her daughter.”

  “That’s irrelevant. Your father didn’t like you and neither did mine.”

  Pain creased Alaric’s expression, and he settled back in his seat, his gaze fixed on the logo imprinted into the steering wheel.

  She touched Alaric’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Alaric. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “But it’s true.” He placed his hand over hers, holding it against his shoulder. “If she doesn’t like you, Evelyn, it will be her fault, not yours. You’re a very likable person.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  His eyebrows rose high as he turned toward her. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because no one really likes me, not even you.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “You didn’t have to.” She sat back in the car seat. “I’ve always been an inconvenience to everyone. Mason only stayed with me so my feelings wouldn’t be hurt. My Dad only kept me because of his love for my mom. And you…”

  Alaric shifted his hand, so his fingers interwove with hers. “And I what?”

  “You only married and protected me for power. You said you’re not going to love me, that you only want a marriage of duty.”

 

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