by Chloe Cullen
“Yesterday…” Thoren started, and Cori bit her lip, wondering if he was going to talk about the way they had woken up together. It had seemed as though they were both going to brush it off like it never happened. “Well, after you went for your rotation at the Palace, Trey came to find me and he said that he felt you were, uh, not taking your role as seriously as he would like.”
Cori’s thought process took a sharp turn. She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m not saying I agree with him, I just wanted to ask, because he seemed pretty serious about it. He said you were interrupting the Princess’ studies, and that you’d been late…”
She had been late, but it had been for a good reason. But Cori had to laugh, causing Thoren to look bemused.
“Look,” Cori said, her laughs dying down, “I was messing with Trey yesterday. He was mad that I’d been late – which was an innocent mistake – so when he asked if I took my position of privilege seriously, I’d said I was taking Millie down to the kitchens for sweet pastries and some other stupid stuff. I thought he knew I was being sarcastic.”
Thoren snorted. “You should know better,” he said with a grin, “Trey doesn’t do humour.”
Cori poked her bottom lip out before raising her practice blade and giving it a swing. “Such a shame – he used to be a riot.”
“He’s not the same person after that day,” Thoren said, turning his back to place his weapon back on the racks, and picking up another one with a slightly longer hilt.
Cori felt a moment of guilt at Thoren’s words. “I know that. Neither are any of us, I think. I shouldn’t have messed with him.” Thoren turned back to face her. “What I actually did with the Princess was go over Holmfirth politics. I’ll apologise to him when I next see him.”
Thoren nodded gratefully. “I think that would go a long way.”
She moved towards him again with a smile as she gave his weapon a playful tap with her own.
He laughed at her. “So, you just want to jump straight in or go back to basics?”
Cori looked down at the long, fake blade in her hands. It was certainly heavier than she had remembered, from when she used to be forced to practice with them as an initiate. The moment she had become a Legionnaire, she’d insisted on sticking with her small blades and throwing knives.
“I guess jump in,” she said, suddenly uncertain. She was so much more confident with smaller weapons.
“Hey,” Thoren said, and she looked up at him, and a slow smile spread across his face, “I’ll go easy on you.”
Cori laughed, and she pushed out at him, but he caught her hand before she could make contact, pulling her body into his as he twisted, throwing her up against the wall in between the weapon racks. The blades they had been holding clattered to the ground at their feet.
“Thoren!” Cori grunted, trying to push away from him with a breathless laugh.
“Can’t get the drop on me that easily,” he said, grinning down at her.
Cori groaned, pushing against him, but only half-heartedly. The temperature in the room seemed to change, and she felt the mood shift between them in the space of a second. Each of their smiles dropped as they looked at each other.
Thoren watched her closely, and his silver eyes flashed, and she could see his intention a breath before he moved.
Cori felt the air leave her lungs when Thoren inched his face closer, first his nose brushed against hers, and then his forehead was pressed to hers, and a hand that she could swear was shaking brushed against the side of her cheek softly.
He breathed Cori’s name across her mouth, and she let her eyes fall shut, the molten silver in his eyes becoming too much to take in.
Her heartbeat was fast, a thunderous gallop inside her chest that was pressed against Thoren’s.
It had only been seconds. A few, single seconds since he had pressed Cori into the wall, but she felt every single bit of it as though it took minutes. The warmth of him pressed against her, the hand on her cheek, the other gripping at her waist, the feel of his mouth only a breath away from hers.
“Thoren,” she whispered intending to somehow pull away from this man even though her body screamed at her to stay put, but the movement of saying his name had her lips brushing over his in the smallest of touches, a featherlight touch that sang a chorus of wanting through her.
The hand on her waist tightened, and a low growl emanated from deep within him, and in the next moment his mouth was against hers.
There was no softness in this kiss, as though all restraint had snapped, and only a fierce need remained. Cori let him press her even harder against the wall behind them, his mouth hot and demanding, her hands against the hard planes of his chest.
Cori couldn’t hide a breathy moan as his tongue brushed against hers, a hand fisting the fabric of his shirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer. Her senses were on high alert, keenly aware of every touch, every press of his lips against her mouth, her cheek, her neck. She could take a moment to enjoy this, to enjoy him – she needed it. Needed to feel something that was so pure and real. Even if it was just for a moment, she needed to feel alive.
And Gods, did she feel alive.
Cori didn’t know how a voice was able to break into her mind through the haze of desire, and why it was Romy’s voice she heard.
I think you know you love someone, and they love you back when that person knows the darkest parts of your life, and the worst things about you and it’s… it’s okay.
Cori pulled away from Thoren, her hands a gentle push against his chest until there was some space between them. The frigid air rushed in to remind her just how warm and alive she had felt when she was near him, and how cold and alone she felt without him.
Thoren’s chest was rising and falling as he looked at her. Cori didn’t know what he saw in her expression but judging from the way he was now looking at her, it couldn’t be good. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
“Thoren,” Cori said quietly, “I’m sorry, but I can’t…”
He took another few steps away from her, and Cori was able to slump against the cold wall behind her in relief. It was confusing to have him so close to her.
Thoren seemed to be gathering himself before he finally looked back up at her. There was concern in his eyes that almost had her heart breaking. “I’m sorry – I guess I thought…”
She wanted to know what he thought but knew it would make the next part more difficult for her.
“I… I’m sorry, too,” Cori said with a small sigh, “Thoren, I really like that we’ve become friends again.” She saw him flinch ever-so-slightly at the work friends. “But there’s still so much you don’t know about me. I had to… do a lot of things I’m not proud of to survive after I left. I’m not the same person I was before the Massacre, and I don’t know if I ever will be.”
Thoren took a defiant step towards her. “I think I know you well enough, Cori. We’ve spent our whole lives knowing each other.”
Cori looked to the floor, seeing the discarded practice blades, and suddenly wished they could go back to that easy banter when they had first entered the room. The way he was looking at Cori had her resolve cracking piece by piece.
“Not the past few years,” she said to him in a small voice.
She heard him sigh, and she peeked up at him to find him looking forlorn, but still staring at her. “We have time, though, don’t we? To get to know the parts of each other that we lost during that time?”
Cori bit down on her lip because she wanted to agree with him. But Thoren would never be able to know the worst parts of her and still think it was okay. She would never be okay in his eyes again if he knew.
Cori finally shook her head in answer. “There are some things you can’t know. And if you knew them, you wouldn’t be standing here with me right now.”
Thoren moved a small step, as though wanting to get closer to her again, but stopped, deciding against it. “I want to learn all of those things about
you, and I can tell you right now, I will still be right here. I’ll always be here for you.”
Such beautiful words. It was exactly what she would want to hear in a perfect world where she hadn’t been through what she had, hadn’t become the person she is now, standing in front of a man who she could’ve loved, and telling him not to love her.
Her chest tightened in anticipation of the next words to fall from her mouth. “No, Thoren. Even if you knew those things about me, and stood here still… I guess it’s me, and how I feel. You’ve always been a part of my life, the best friend I could ever ask for, but… I just can’t think about you in any other way.” Lies. Such lies.
Thoren took another step backwards, as though she had pushed him away from her. He shook his head at her. “I… don’t think I believe that.”
Cori flung her arms out and let them fall back to her sides with exasperation. “I’m saying it, so I mean it.”
She could see the confusion in his eyes again, mingled with some hurt and anger. “Then, what was this, what was that?” Thoren gestured behind her to the wall where they had been tangled in each other only moments before. “You can’t tell me that wasn’t real.”
Cori cringed at the fierceness in his tone and braced herself for more of it. She shrugged. “I just got caught up in the moment. I haven’t been… close with anyone in a long time. But I don’t… want that from you.”
Thoren pinched at the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut as he breathed in what sounded like an attempt at a calming breath. “Caught up in the moment…” He looked at her again before he laughed without humour. Then he nodded, and Cori saw the exact moment where he gave up. His shoulders sagged and the silver in his eyes seemed duller. She hated herself a little bit more for causing that dullness. But she was on a roll and needed to drive the point home.
“Maybe if we just take a little space from each other for a while? Go back to being colleagues.”
Silence.
He was looking at her as though he had no idea who was in front of him. “Colleagues…” he said quietly, like he couldn’t have possibly heard her right. She saw the anger that flashed across his eyes. “Alright, Cori. Fine… I suppose you really are destined to be the Lone Oakheart.”
She stiffened, the verbal jab piercing her right in the heart, and she deserved it. But she still couldn’t stop the pricking sensation in the corner of eyes that threatened tears.
Thoren swore and ran a hand over his hair. “I’m sorry – I… I didn’t mean that.”
She just held up a hand, and before the tears could fall, she turned away from him and strode from the weapons room so that nothing else could be said between them, and pulled the door closed behind her to leave Thoren standing in there alone.
He had been right about what he said to her, it did seem as though she were destined to be alone. Her own decisions had led her here. She was on a lonely path, and she would walk it for as long as she had to.
34
THREE MONTHS AFTER THE MASSACRE
Cori had just started working at the Weary Fairy bar and was slowly getting the hang of how to wait on the patrons. She wasn’t sure she could ever get used to being on the other side of the drunk men – usually she was the one breaking up the fights or insisting the bar stop serving liquor. But now she let all of that slide, and just served when she was told to serve.
Cori also wasn’t sure she would ever get used to this girl… Adeline. She had gotten Cori this job, sure, but she was much too perky and always in Cori’s business, trying to guess what she had done before Adeline had found her on the streets.
Adeline would get it soon, she hoped. Cori was better left alone.
But at least she could afford to rent a small apartment now, which was much preferable – not to mention warmer – than living in alleyways.
Cori had finished her shift for the evening and started her walk home. Adeline had insisted that she walk with her, as their apartments were in the same direction, but before Adeline could gather her things, Cori was out the door and walking resolutely away. She didn’t feel much like forcing conversation with the girl right now.
When she was halfway to the apartment, Cori felt her ears perk, hearing someone behind her. It was the dead of night, the moon high in the sky, and she usually saw no one on her way home at this time of night.
She kept walking, sure that it must just be someone stumbling home after a hard night of drinking. Or it was Adeline, trying to catch up with her. The thought made Cori cringe.
Another scrape of a foot over cobblestones, and this time it was much closer. Close enough that Cori turned around to look at who was behind her, ready to snap at Adeline to leave her alone.
The street was empty.
Her eyes roamed over the dark, quiet buildings, ears straining for any sound. Dismissing it, Cori turned back to continue on her way, and stopped dead with a loud gasp.
There was a man in front of her.
She placed a hand to her thundering heart, taken aback that someone had managed to sneak up on her, which was quite a feat considering she was trained to not let that happen.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Cori mumbled, “excuse me.”
She made to move around him, but he placed his hand out to block her way. When she looked properly at him, she had to move a step further away, her guards coming up, and readying to reach for the dagger in her boot should he pose any threat to her.
Cori had seen this man before.
He was a tall, thin man, hair slicked back from his face and with eyes that seemed to pierce straight through her as though he knew every detail of her mind and heart. He wore a long brown duster, a black cane clasped in his hand, with what looked like a white wolf’s head sitting on the top.
“Good evening Corisande,” the man said in a deep, greasy voice, “it is a pleasure to formally meet you. You may have heard of me. My name is Tiberius Teller.”
35
Night had fallen, and Cori found herself a few levels deep into the Compound mausoleum. She stood outside the door of her family crypt, the word Oakheart plated into the wall above her. She stared at the shining words which glinted with fire from the lamplight, a helpless feeling of being torn apart from her family sinking inside of her.
Cori had never intended to become this person, who she was today. But somewhere along the way, it had happened, and she could feel the retribution for her crimes hiding behind her, unseen, about to poke its head out of the darkness.
After her argument with Thoren, she’d walked around the Compound with a bad taste in her mouth. Flashes of their heated moment tangled together kept gripping her, sending chills skittering down her spine against her will. It left her with a longing she didn’t know she was capable of.
She shivered slightly and reached out a hand to push the door open, when she heard footsteps echoing off the tiled floor behind her.
Cori turned, her hand falling back to her side, and eyes squinting through the darkness of the passageway. Out of the shadows, a figure approached, stepping into the glow of the lamp mounted on the wall. For a heart-stopping moment, Cori stupidly thought it was her father walking towards her, but as the light touched his face, she saw that it was Maveron Swarbrik.
He saw her standing there and paused. “Cori?”
She self-consciously took a step away from her family’s crypt. “Maveron… hi.” She shuffled her feet awkwardly as he closed the distance between them, and folded his arms behind his back, his eyes flicking to the doorway next to her.
“Visiting?” he asked, the kindness in his eyes made her feel lower than the floors of this Mausoleum. Cori didn’t deserve his kindness.
“Just stopped by to say hello,” Cori said, trying for a smile.
“I was just doing that myself,” he said, rocking back and forth on his feet, “the Swarbrik’s do get rather lonely down here from time to time.”
Cori pressed her lips together and nodded. She knew that the Swarbrik family crypt was a floor below.
She and Thoren had used to come here together in their time growing up and would even use the maze of passageways as a way of playing hide and seek.
Cori looked for an excuse to exit. Seeing Maveron was a powerful reminder of everything wrong with her life at the moment. He was a reminder of the family she should have had but didn’t. He was the father of the man that she had pushed away earlier in the day, a man who deserved better than what she had given him. Maveron, who had always been important to her, also deserved better than Cori. All she had to offer were pain and lies.
Romy had been so right earlier in the day, setting her priorities back to where they needed to be. Cori could never be happy as long as she continued to live amongst a web of lies. She would never be accepted, or even accept herself.
“I’ll… see you later?” Cori said, and edged back towards the door to her left.
Maveron nodded, but then moved towards her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I hope you know how proud I am of you. And how proud your father would be at the woman you have turned out to be.”
Cori swallowed, meeting Maveron’s gaze, which was full of sincerity. She looked away quickly, not able to bear it for a moment longer. “Thank you,” she muttered before she stepped away and out of his reach, “good night Maveron.”
Cori pushed open the door and stepped inside the Oakheart family crypt, letting the door swing shut behind her, hoping with everything she had that Maveron would let her be alone. She breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself.
Cori finally let her gaze wander over to the spots on the wall where her mother, father and sister’s names were plated into the wall. She moved slowly towards them, and for a long moment, she just stared at the words Brennan Oakheart.
Reaching out, she brushed her fingertips over the cold metal. Emotion clogged her throat as she opened her mouth to speak. “I’m sorry, Dad. I wish I could’ve been the daughter you deserved.”