That confession seemed to both surprise and relieve her. “That is why you let them exile you from the Edgelands without a fight,” she finally looked up at him, “isn’t it?”
“I was looking to be exiled anyway. I figured why not jump on the chance for great adventure with the woman my heart belongs to. It seems my soul picked the right mate. You’ve got nothing but adventure waiting for you.”
She sighed and drew back from where they stood, turning toward the small bed in the corner of the room. “I always thought I wanted adventure when I was a little girl. I just never imagined it would be like this.”
“It’s never like we imagine it, Princess.”
He stepped forward and put a hand of comfort on her shoulder. For a long time they stood that way, neither of them speaking but both of them playing over the words he’d just spoken. Finally Finn surveyed the room, his gaze lingering over the bed. A real bed had never looked more comfortable to him in his life, but he’d be a fool if he really thought she’d welcome him into it with her.
“It’s been a long few days and it doesn’t seem like it’s about to get any easier. You should get some rest,” he suggested. “You take the bed. I’ll make myself comfortable in that chair over there.” He looked toward the high-backed wooden chair, every muscle in his already achy body cringing at the prospect of a night propped against the wall.
“Are you sure?” There was hesitation in her voice, her stare lingering on the mattress before she started toward it.
“I’d barely even fit in that bed, and besides it wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me to take a bed from a princess, now would it.” She smirked at him, a devil’s gleam in her eyes. “Anyway, I’m getting so used to sleeping sitting up, I would probably keep you awake all night tossing and turning.”
When she glanced back over her shoulder at him, he could see she wasn’t convinced by his story, but she sat down on the edge of bed and let her shoulders sag beneath the weight of the world she was carrying.
He picked up the chair and carried it over beside the bed and sat down, the floor boards creaking beneath his heavy weight as he settled in. Every muscle in his back ached in protest, longing for the comfort of a soft mattress to rest on, but he would suffer before he’d ever tell her as much.
For a long time she just sat there, her face long in thought, her lower lip disappearing between her teeth as she nibbled away pieces of dry skin. Finn leaned back, stretching his long legs out into the room before crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head back to rest on the wall behind him. The house and the night were so quiet he could hear the quiet mutter of his brother’s voice somewhere beyond the walls and wondered if Viln and his long lost friend were sharing another bottle of wine and old memories.
“You should sleep, Lorelei,” he turned his head to look over at her again, the gruff sound of his voice startling her from her reverie. “Tomorrow seems as if it’s going to be another long day.”
“I know I should sleep,” she confessed, stretching her arms out behind her and reclining onto her elbows. “I’m so tired, but my mind… It just keeps turning over thought after thought after thought. There are so many thoughts in there, I don’t know what to do with them all.”
“Do you want to talk about them?”
She seemed to consider his offer for a moment, her head tilting thoughtfully and her hair drifting across the quilt behind her, and then she exhaled a long, breathy sigh before dropping back into the straw-stuffed mattress to stare at the shadows on the ceiling. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what was going through her mind, though he could sense the fluctuation of her mood and her emotions inside himself. Her energy felt like a whirlpool, anxiety and fear mingling with grief and confusion until it threatened to pull her into complete despair.
He didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to say something, to reassure her that it would all be okay, but he couldn’t make a promise like that without the proof to back it up.
Instead they sat in silence, listening to the unfamiliar noises of Logren’s house until she finally drew her legs up into the bed and rolled onto her side facing him. He didn’t have to look down at her to know she was staring at him, didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking about. She’d said almost nothing about them being mated. About how she felt about his soul being bonded permanently to hers. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from her when she found out, but it wasn’t silence.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for this,” she yawned when she spoke, distorting the words into a near unintelligible jumble of sounds that took him a second to piece together coherently.
“No one is going to push you into anything, Princess,” he muttered, tilting his head back to rest against the wall. “I won’t let them.”
It occurred to him after she grew silent that perhaps she was talking about him, that she wasn’t ready for him, but he wouldn’t push her into that either. He’d just stand with her, be there for her when she needed a friend, and when the time… no, if the time came, he would embrace her as his mate.
He was going to have to get used to that because no matter how much he wanted her to be his, there were no guarantees.
He looked over at her, watched her eyes grow heavier with every blink. He listened as her breath slowed and matched the rhythm of his own exhales to hers. It wasn’t long before she drifted into a fitful state of sleep. She didn’t relax and neither did he, and for a long time he sat in that uncomfortable chair just watching her sleep, listening to her breath and wondering where they were supposed to go from there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Lorelei wanted desperately to remember every image and element from her dreams, especially after the seer asked her if she hadn’t dreamed visions from the gods. She willed herself not to forget a single detail as she was falling asleep, but her mind was distracted by everything going on around her. She kept hearing Yovenna’s answer when she asked the seer why she wouldn’t just come to herself in a dream if the message she had to share was so important. Perhaps she had come to herself, but she didn’t remember any significant dreams from her past, any possible encounters she might have had with herself, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t occurred.
Either way, she wasn’t about to let herself forget another dream. Not if she could help it. So she willed herself to hang onto any threads that might weave themselves into the colorful canvas of her mind while she slept.
But Instead of dreaming some prophetic wonder that would make sense of every moment of her life, she found herself trapped in a dark room with a great black wolf crouched in the corner. Its eyes glowed like two crystals, iridescent lights in the dark, and though she knew even in her dream she should fear that beast, the rhythmic beat of its heart thumped in time with her own and its gentle spirit called to her.
It snorted, a puff of damp, warm breath flaring from its nostrils as she tentatively reached a hand out. Its cold nose nuzzled into her palm; the tickle of its breath against her skin sent a tingle of intrigue through her body. The wolf’s gentle tongue swept out to taste her skin in an affectionate manner, a jolt of strange excitement tightening the muscles of her belly. She lifted her hand to its face, her fingers slipping into the beast’s soft fur and trailing toward its ear. It turned its head, its soft tongue sweeping along the length of her arm and making something inside her shiver in the most delightful way. Her stomach clenched as a wave of chills rippled through her entire body, waking something deep inside her until she could feel it rising through her to overtake her completely.
The beast took a step toward her, rising above her from the shadows, but she was not afraid. She wanted to be like him, for her wolf spirit to awaken so the two of them could run together through the woods in a playful game of catch me if you can. And when he caught her, they would tumble through the leaves and dirt until he pinned her on her back and loomed above her with a wicked gleam in his eye.
When the dream shifted, she was the wolf. Racing thr
ough a dew slick glen, the moons rose over the treetops edging the open glade. The pads of her feet slipped in the grass as she reared her head around to peer over her shoulder at the beast chasing her. She caught a glimpse of him, but it was not the same beast in the corner of the room. This beast was leaner, his lavender eyes flashing in the brief glint of moonlight before her front paw caught on a stone jutting up from the ground.
She tumbled clumsily through the wet grass and the tawny wolf skidded to a halt above her. He stared down at her, his broad chest rising and falling with every breath. He opened his mouth, a playful leer stretching the long edges of his dark lips to reveal a full mouth of sharp and jagged teeth.
Dew soaked into her thick fur, and when she rolled onto her side the silver moonlight streaming through the trees reflected off the droplets clinging to her coat until they shone like fire gems.
The sudden realization that she was beast tickled her. Her spirit really was like Finn’s.
You are more like me. We were made for each other, two halves of the same whole. We could be soul mates, Lorelei.
She could hear his voice inside herself, and when she answered it was with her thoughts.
No. My soul is Finn’s. I am his mate.
That realization was both terrifying and freeing. She would never have to search for love. It would always be right there in front of her, waiting for her to open her heart and let it in.
Your soul is only his if you choose to give it to him. Every part of you is yours to do with what you will.
It disturbed her that he had heard thoughts. She hadn’t spoken to him, and for a moment she wondered if that was how it was with all wolves. Could everyone in the pack hear each other’s thoughts? How did anyone ever keep anything private? Her thoughts were her own and she didn’t want everyone around her reading into them.
The tawny wolf snuffled, an intriguing mimicry of laughter, and then he stretched his paws out in front of his body. His tale tucked almost submissively between his legs before he eased into a relaxed position on the ground beside her and tilted his head to study her. His eyes were so large, like two almond-shaped amethysts glistening in the moonlight.
My soul has longed for yours since you reached into the darkness and took my hand, my Light of Madra.
Lorelei shot awake like an arrow leaving the taut, sinewy string of a cocked bow. A gasp stuck in her chest and her heart raced almost guiltily when she heard Finn snort through a choked snore before shifting uncomfortably in the chair and burying his chin deeper into his shoulder. He muttered something unintelligible in his sleep and then resumed snoring.
She dropped back into the hay-stuffed mattress with a disgruntled huff, the wispy strands of her hair tickling her forehead when they fell back into place.
Her soul was only Finn’s if she chose to give it to him.
After everything she and Finn had been through together, after the way she’d felt his heart beat inside her own body, why would she dream about someone else that way? Not that there was anything wrong with Brendolowyn. He seemed nice enough, and he certainly was beautiful to look at with those sharp, but delicate elven features, intense lavender eyes and mage’s grace. And since she’d met him he’d seemed so intuitive, always knowing exactly when she needed someone to step in and make her smile.
Just like Finn, Bren had saved her life when she was running from death, but she didn’t know anything about him. Her heart certainly did flutter a little when he flirted with her, but she didn’t feel the same intense connection to him that she felt with Finn.
Rolling onto her side, she tucked her folded hands beneath her cheek and stared at him while he slept.
He had all but grown a full beard over the last week, the thick black hair on his cheeks and chin hiding the dimples and the chiseled structure of his face. She couldn’t deny finding him attractive, but she’d thought Trys was attractive too, and look where that had gotten her. Finn’s eyes were always smiling, even when he was serious, and there was a playfulness about him that never ceased to make her feel lighter no matter how heavy things got. To make matters even more intriguing he had the softest, fullest lips she’d ever seen, and every time she looked at him she couldn’t help wondering what it might feel like to kiss them. The bristling hairs of his stiff facial hair tickling her skin as his mouth opened against hers, his soft tongue darting out to taste her kiss before wandering lips trailed across her cheek, a soft whisper hushing over the sensitive skin of her ear.
A strange, but delightful series of chills, not unlike the sensation she felt in her dream, rippled through her at that thought, the muscles in her stomach clenching gently at the prospect of giving in to him that way. She knew what came after kisses. Her mother and Pahjah both told her what to expect on her wedding night, and though it sounded dreadful and terrifying, something about giving herself to Finn that way made her shiver with intrigue.
She only needed to close her eyes to call to mind the chiseled muscle of his chest and stomach, the old scars that decorated his pale skin and the soft patch of wiry black hair across his breast that trailed enticingly down his stomach to disappear beneath the waistline of his breeches. Trystay had been manly enough, with his deep voice and lean, muscular build, and before he’d tried to kill her he’d seemed very romantic, but Finn… Finn was the very definition of manhood in her eyes. He was so tall she felt like a child standing next to him sometimes, and when he’d thrown her over his shoulder to carry her away from danger the night they were exiled from Drekne, she couldn’t help feeling so safe in his arms, so comfortable with the proximity of their bodies.
Looking over at him again, he was still dirty from the road, still wearing mismatched clothes someone in Logren’s party had offered after he’d torn his to battle the troll. His unwashed black hair hung in thick, oily locks across his face and fluttered with every exhale of breath. Even in that state, he was still a vision to behold. Not pretty-boy handsome like Trystay, but rugged and solid and very capable of holding his own against whatever adversary he might have to face.
A man like Finn wouldn’t just protect her, he would teach her how to protect herself. He had already shown her more in the last few days than she’d ever learned spying on Aelfric’s battle yard from her bedroom window, and Finn would insist that she stand beside him against whatever awaited them, not behind him.
That was the way it should be. Two wolves, side by side, against all odds, against the world.
Only she was not a wolf, at least she didn’t think she was. There had never been any indication in her life that she was anything other than human and that realization disheartened her. She was just a girl, barely of age, unsure about the world beyond the confines of that tiny room and terrified of the things that world seemed to want from her. If there was a wolf somewhere beneath her skin, it had yet to show its presence, and a part of her was already beginning to doubt it ever would.
Finn may have been hers for the taking if she wanted him, but how could they be soul mates if her soul was nothing like his? Did it even matter in the end if she was not a wolf? Would that somehow damper the way he felt about her in the long run? If she was truly what the seers had both claimed she was, she and Brendolowyn were more alike. Two half-souled beings that might experience wholeness if they were to somehow combine their essence.
A guilty twinge rippled through her at that thought. Finn may have kept the truth about their bond from her, but in retrospect she understood his reasons for it. And she didn’t even know if Brendolowyn had the least bit of interest in her beyond friendship. Flirting was one thing, but Finn had put his life on the line for her, sacrificed his future among his own people to venture into exile with her, and yet her twisted mind had dreamed of someone else.
How could she, after everything she and Finn had been through in the last week, and why Brendolowyn? He seemed so much older than she was, and besides, hadn’t Yovenna said she was to embark on her journey with her mate and the Alvarii mage?
Wasn’t
that enough to finalize what she already knew in her heart to be true?
Finn was her mate.
That should have settled it, but it didn’t. She closed her eyes again, a fading flash of two wolves running in the moonlight, one tawny, one red like fire. Fortunately a pair of tiny feet hammered through the house beyond the closed door, drawing her away from the conflict of her own mind.
A hushed whisper scolded, “Roggi, please. You will wake everyone in the house.”
“Good!” His declaration of stubborn joy was followed by a loud stomp that shook the walls. “I want to wake them. I want my auntie to eat breakfast with me. I want to show Finn my muscles.”
“You can show Finn your muscles later, and your aunt needs her rest. You know she came all the way from Leithe.”
“How far is Leithe, Mummy?”
“Very far, little one. It took her many, many days to get to this place and she is very tired.”
“Will she wake up soon?”
“Perhaps she will, but until she does we should be quiet so she can rest.”
“If we make her breakfast she will wake,” the little boy declared. “Just like Da always does.”
She heard Viina’s gentle laugh. “Then I suppose we should head out to the market before we check the hen house for new eggs. We have a houseful of people to feed. Come along, let’s put your boots on.”
After a few more minutes of quiet voices the house grew silent again—well, silent as it could get with Finn snarling like a wild animal every time he exhaled. Lorelei rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. She was surrounded by people, an entire hidden city of people to be precise, who were all like her. She was among family, in the same room with the man who claimed he was her mate, and yet she’d never felt more isolated in her life.
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