Rolling onto his side and propping his head up on an elbow so he could see her, Roan asked, “Why, are you planning on running from me?”
It was only then that Amelia realized how close he’d moved to her.
She had no idea when the male had inched over, but now they were lying side by side, their bodies practically touching.
“No,” she responded in a breathy voice, gulping.
Very aware of the doubly charged moment.
And when Roan leaned down to kiss her, Amelia didn’t draw back.
She parted her lips a bit, giving Roan access to her mouth, and didn’t disrupt the intimacy building up between them.
Chapter Seventeen
It was strange how a few short hours could change one’s perspective so tremendously, yet at the same time, leave things exactly as they were before, Amelia mused, strolling along a path between the blueberry bushes that were ripe with fruit.
That afternoon, as she’d been about to seek out Evana for a little chat, she’d overheard two kitchen maids talking about the berries that needed picking, and since they’d been less than enthusiastic about the upcoming task, Amelia had volunteered to do it in their stead. Hesitating at first, the servants had finally grudgingly given in, arguing that Amelia might as well make herself useful while the Master was away on business. Like they were the ones who were doing her a favor.
Well, they were, actually – not that they had any inkling about that. Still, it was thanks to them that Amelia had finally managed to escape the confines of the stifling mansion anew under the guise of berry picking. The fact that she knew how much Roan liked this particular delicacy hadn’t influenced her decision in the least. The task simply afforded her the opportunity to be in the garden for a while without having to sneak about for once – until she did sneak into the woods, that is, to test whether Roan could tell that she’d left the vicinity of the mansion even from a distance, and to find out if he’d do something about the infraction or even care to mention it.
Anyway, out here, Amelia could think in peace, undistracted by the necessity to remain alert constantly and school her features into an unreadable mask whenever someone walked by. And considering the recent developments, she had quite a few things to sift through. Also, she had to determine once for all whether what she’d learned about Roan and what had happened between them indeed changed anything.
When there were only a couple of bushes left with ripe fruit, Amelia looked around furtively, making sure no one was paying her any attention. Then as soon the guard patrolling this side of the mansion rounded the corner and got out of eyeshot, she wheeled around and made a dash for the trees. Once there, she slowed down a bit but kept moving along at a pace that allowed her to catch her breath.
All the while, she kept her ears open, ready to hide or bolt at the slightest sound. She had to rely on her human hearing, though. Amelia only ventured to use her sharper senses once she got a good distance between herself and the Fae at the mansion. Opening her mind for a moment was necessary, however, since that was the only foolproof way to check for the presence of other beings in the vicinity.
Relieved, Amelia exhaled and let her shoulders relax, then popped an indigo-colored berry into her mouth. She hoped that her sudden disappearance would go unnoticed by guards and staff alike, but just to be sure, she’d brought her basket along. This way, she could always claim that she’d just finished up and been about to head back inside.
Amelia couldn’t help but wonder, though, how Roan would react if others caught her in the act. Would he brush her offense aside, or feel like he had to reprimand her since her transgression was common knowledge? And since when was she so sure that steadfast male had to feel like he was forced to punish her to really do so, anyway?
So many questions, but technically, Amelia knew the answer to the last one. Even though her reality and her plans for the future – the ones she would go through with – remained the same, that unlikely morning had changed the way Amelia viewed Roan.
Taking her along on the ride and giving her free rein, allowing her to lead and go where she wanted, to do as she would … Opening up to her and trusting her with those precious memories … Talking to her like they were equals, not an all-powerful owner and his slave …
Kissing her …
Amelia shook her head vehemently to dispel that undesirable thought. However she might’ve felt in the moment their lips had briefly touched was unimportant. What did matter was that, for whatever reason, the male had confided in her, thus allowing her to confirm what she’d already known about Roan.
That little boy had loved his mother very much, and Lady Aisling’s affection for her only child had been obvious, as well. The way she’d cared for Roan, how she’d allowed him to have his adventures but been always there to catch him if he fell… It so clearly showed how much they’d meant to each other. Their relationship had been so very different from the one Amelia had perceived between father and son.
Those memories also bespoke Aisling’s gentle nature and generous heart. Such rare qualities in a Fae nowadays... And this tender, affectionate female, the person who used to be the cornerstone of young Roan’s life, had been taken from him long before her time.
By humans.
Heart heavy, Amelia looked at the ground, letting her feet take her wherever they would.
To suffer such a loss … Roan must’ve been so hurt. Devastated. So lost and alone.
Just like she had been six years ago. Or rather, almost seven now. The anniversary of the day the Fae Council had seized power was just around the corner.
The day of her whole family’s death.
Suddenly enraged, she kicked a stone as far as she could, heedless of her bare feet. The pain that suffused her limb helped numb the ache inside, and after a couple of seconds, she was able to get her thoughts back on track.
Like it or not, Amelia had to face it – Roan had every reason to hate humans. He had ample motivation to want to see them subjugated and to act on that wish, even if that meant removing some of his own kind from the equation permanently. After what Roan had relayed to her, she was more convinced of that than ever.
Considering his vast and very deadly abilities, his command over both darkness and fire, he also had what it took to succeed. Adding in the volatile temper that had manifested itself the day Harold had injured Amelia, and the fact that he’d surely been influenced, maybe even pressured by his hard, unforgiving, vengeful father at that… Amelia heaved a sigh. Deprived of his mother, that innocent little boy hadn’t stood a chance.
No wonder Roan had turned out this way, Amelia thought as she absentmindedly wound her way through the emerald trees. She got it. After all, she knew firsthand what the loss of those who were that important, who mattered that much to a person could do to someone. Amelia really understood. She even felt for Roan, but that didn’t mean she condoned the murder of innocent people, nor that she could ever forgive him.
Looking up, Amelia realized she’d wound up at the same clearing where Roan had found her when she’d first slipped away from the mansion. She’d unconsciously made her way to the place where this process, her humanizing of Roan, had begun. It’d been right here that she’d started wondering about his motivations, asking herself why the male didn’t punish her like the cruel Fae he was.
Giving in to Fate, the Gods’ will, coincidence or whatever it was that’d steered her here, Amelia walked over to the big rock she’d perched upon that day and sat, enjoying the light breeze and the birdsong for a moment. Then, with a sigh, she allowed herself to go there, just this once.
That day, it’d been crystal clear that Amelia had broken the rules. Despite his threats to the contrary, Roan hadn’t hurt her, though. Neither then, nor since. The male had yet to lift a finger against her in anger. Moreover, he’d protected her from other Fae, threatening one of his own kind with retribution if he so much as touched her without his master’s express permission, Amelia reminded herself, recallin
g Roan’s reaction to the incident with the head servant.
Roan let her to get away with things, protected her, even allowed her a measure of freedom. The Fae was admittedly often brusque and condescending and unquestionably arrogant, yet never cruel.
Why her, though?
Would he behave like this towards any human, or was she the one exception?
Since there weren’t any other slaves around, she just couldn’t tell.
The fact that he’d been fairly tolerant and patient with her right from the moment she moved into his suite of rooms pointed towards a particular conclusion. Amelia wasn’t convinced of that, though. Not with his extensive ability to hide his true feelings. Roan was very good at pretending, maybe even better than Amelia herself.
Did that mean he was just pretending to be civil towards her?
Then again, why bother? Why act like he cared for her even a little?
Could Roan even care for her? Was he capable of having feelings for a human?
And why did she care about that so much?
Unbidden, recent memories flashed through her mind. Memories of swinging around trees and ducking under low-hanging branches, of following rarely trodden paths through the silent forest in pursuit of each other, finally on horseback again, then bursting out into the bright sunlight and looking back and seeing a handsome, ethereal face that for once wasn’t disguised. Memories of unchecked speed, of having a taste of joy again, of letting go and feeling like she was flying. Then just lying there, cradled by the soft grass, looking up at the cloudless sky and listening to the sound of the river undisturbed, as if she had all the time in the world. Like the world didn’t even exist.
And talking. Roan trusting in her enough to invoke a past that might be irrevocably gone but hadn’t lost any of its bearing.
Not for him.
Those significant had shaped him, imbuing him with enough compassion and goodness that a kernel of it might’ve survived all these years … Though buried deep, it might still be part of the male he was today.
In that moment at the edge of the river, her heart had truly gone out to Roan. And when he’d scooted over and taken her hand in his, she didn’t have the willpower to move away. Roan had be so focused on her, like she was the only thing that mattered. And then he’d leaned in, touching his lips to hers, connecting them in a single kiss, and still she hadn’t pushed him away.
Those seconds, those experiences and fragile feelings were just as much a gift to her as the pants and boots she now owned, and she couldn’t express how much she valued being able to wear the likes of those again on certain occasions – wearing anything, really, that wasn’t a garb befitting a slave or prisoner, she thought with a breathy laugh.
She was grateful for those gifts, every bit as much as for the moments she had for herself whenever Roan allowed her to escape into the forest for a while. It all led back to her being a slave, though. Beneath all that leniency and the gentler-as-usual manners, it was all about her owner deciding her life for her, and graciously granting her certain things on occasion.
Amelia might have misjudged Roan a bit. Over the years, the male might have changed for the better, rediscovering a bit of his old self. Maybe he wasn’t simply a power-seeking murderer as she’d first thought. That didn’t erase the part of their past they shared, though. Chrystie was still gone, and Roan was still a murderer. And atrocities like that couldn’t, wouldn’t go unpunished.
And anyway, well though he might treat her, Amelia was still Roan’s slave. The Fae hadn’t let her go, not even after everything they’d shared. He continued to regard her as a possession, a commodity, a thing that had been bought and paid for, and was now his for the taking. And though she had no idea where they were kept, she hadn’t forgotten about the other slaves, especially not about Amanthea.
Who knew how those humans had fared …
Amelia unconsciously lifted her hand to the slim, heated ring that still encircled her throat, never constricting but always noticeably present. The mark of Roan’s ownership. His means to control her.
She shook her head, berating herself for her fanciful notions.
The fact was, it didn’t matter in whatever way Roan had changed. Whatever he did now, he couldn’t undo what he’d done. His role in conquering one kingdom and subjugating another remained the same. And the dead stayed dead. Not that he was such a good person now. Admittedly, he was more than a merciless killer, but he was far from a saint.
Whether it was true or just pretend, the fact that Roan now appeared to have some faith in her would definitely make it easier for Amelia to go about her own business. As long as Roan bought into her believing it to be real –
Suddenly, a faint noise intruded on Amelia’s thoughts. Instantly alert, she immediately identified the sound as the snap of a twig but didn’t give any outward sign of her discovery. Someone was there, lurking in the woods and doing his best to remain undetected. That suggested that the mysterious person was aware of her presence, so there wasn’t much she could do now. If it was Roan or a guard, she was already caught, courtesy of her own carelessness.
Well, she’d been curious whether Roan could sense her absence.
Guess now she had her answer.
Just then, a figure appeared at the far end of the clearing. Tall, big as a boulder, and definitely a man. Or a male. Then the light fell on his face, and Amelia sucked in a breath, feeling as if she’d been struck by lightning.
It couldn’t be.
She stared at the stranger who wasn’t so unfamiliar after all, not daring to blink and unable to move, and the boy, or rather man now, remained where he was, too. Then Amelia whisper-shouted a single word.
“Vik!”
And of course, no matter the volume, he heard her. A huge grin broke out on the beloved face she knew so well and would recognize everywhere, even though the appearance of the man it belonged to had changed so much since she’d last seen him. Gone was the boyhood softness of his features. Strong lines and a broad, angular jaw had taken its place. Those intelligent, chocolate-colored eyes had remained the same, though, complementing a visage that’d become the epitome of male beauty.
No wonder he looks different, though, Amelia thought, fighting back tears. It’d been years since their last meeting. She and Vik had had to part ways when he’d joined the Resistance, and their paths had hardly ever crossed since. Nothing could wipe out their common past, though, and Vik still meant the world to her.
"Is it really you?", she asked tentatively, not quite believing her eyes.
Then he said, “It’s me, Lia.”
And his voice burrowed deep insider her, his simple answer breaking through her frozenness.
Amelia’s face lit up with delight, and she bolted for him. Vik started moving at the same time, and as they met halfway across the clearing, she threw her arms around him. Her friend lifted her right off the ground, swinging her around and making her laugh out loud, then he drew her in, holding her close, as if he’d never let her go ever again.
Secure in his arms, Amelia leaned back just far enough so she could see Vik’s face, then asked, “How are you here?”
All at once, she snapped out of the daze his sudden appearance had put her in, and she narrowed her eyes.
“Vik, how did you find me?” Barely pausing between words as thought chased thought through her mind, she hastily added, continuing before Vik actually got the chance to answer, "You shouldn't be here."
Making light of things as always, Vik drawled, “And here I thought you were happy to see me.”
Then he flashed her a cheeky grin.
“Of course I am glad to see you, you fool,” she retorted, swatting him on the chest. “But you being here… It’s dangerous.” She bit her lip. “If the Fae catch you …”
Now it was Vik’s turn to narrow his eyes.
“Do you think I haven’t learned a thing since I took up with the Resistance?” He tilted his head to the side. “Even then, you should vaguel
y remember that I’ve managed to get by on my own for years before that.”
“But not in the Upper Kingdom,” Amelia broke in, wanting to scream the words in his face.
Vik went on, though, as if he hadn’t heard her or she had never even opened her mouth.
“Actually, if I recall correctly, I’d been the one who taught you how to take care of yourself. Or the basics of it, at the very least.”
Yes, yes, he had. She didn’t have to acknowledge that out loud, though. Vik’s ego was big enough as it was.
Running his eyes over her, Vik tilted his head to the side.
“On the other hand, I get why you might question my capabilities. I have to say, you’ve looked better, Lia. And the mess you’re in …”
He trailed off, shaking his head in mock desperation.
Here he went again. The same old Vikarion Montero, goading her as usual. Falling right back into their old rhythms. Lia knew what he was up to, and still it took considerable effort on her part to stop herself from making a riposte. She didn’t want to give Vik the satisfaction of falling for his antics, though, so she changed the topic instead, demanding to know, “Would you care to answer my questions?”
Getting serious again, Vik did as asked.
“I’ve missed you these past years,” he began, seemingly not answering the question.
Lia knew him well enough to know, though, that Vik would get to the point. When his expression turned this solemn, with his brows furrowed and his lush mouth pressed into a thin line, her friend never messed around. Vik was simply choosing to tell his story by starting with what he saw as its beginning.
“I never understood why you chose to walk away when I joined the Resistance, you know.” He lowered his eyes so he was looking right at her. “Just because you have magic …” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t have mattered. Or rather, it would’ve been worth the risk. Having actual functional magic at our disposal, along with someone who can wield it ... It could help so much.”
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