He chuckles softly, as if he knows all those things. As though he can hear them in that one, not quite good enough, word. “Good,” Ruvan echoes.
Despite myself, I yawn. The tremors are settling and the bed is far more comfortable than I expected. My body grows heavy.
“You should rest, you’ve had a long day.”
“Here?” I murmur.
“Where else?”
Rather than arguing, I close my eyes. The settee in the main room is the furthest thing from my mind right now. Leaving is far too much effort.
Two strong arms around me. A heavy duvet. Winter outside the window, trying to find its way in but the fire keeps it at bay.
I shift, tilting my head to look up at him. Two, bright eyes shine back at me in the moonlight. His lips take on a thin, crescent shape.
“You’re awake,” I say.
“How could I sleep when I am in so much wonder at the stunning creature in my bed?” he almost purrs.
I can’t help but laugh. “You’re incorrigible.” I’m hardly a new presence in his bed, his life. I almost exist exclusively here, now. His comfort has become my home…so much so that I no longer even think of leaving the mountains.
“How much longer will this persist?” I ask. He knows the heart of my question, his slight frown tells me as much.
“Soon…my love. They will know the truth soon enough. When our work is done.”
Dawn breaksand I don’t move. The comforter and furs must be made of lead, because I’ve never felt anything so heavy in my life. The afterglow of last night is as settled on me as Ruvan’s arm is around my midsection. His heavy breathing tells me he still slumbers and I slowly twist to avoid disturbing him.
Not for the first time, I admire him in the early morning. But this time I’m much closer than the last. I can see the gentle curve of his lips and every long lash that rests on his cheek as he slumbers. I have the odd sense that this isn’t the first time I’ve woken like this… A dream?
My attempts to remember the details are met with a flash of pain through my body. It is an agony not brought on by any physical trauma, but my mind wreaking cruelty upon me. I’m clammy, cold. Shame tries to grab hold of me.
What have I done? I can’t be here. I can’t be with any man, but especially not him. I see my mother’s disappointed eyes and my brother’s horror behind my shut-tight lids. I can hear Drew now: Out of everyone you could’ve picked, Floriane…
I can’t be here. My breath is quickening. I’m going to disturb him if I stay, either with weeping or screaming.
Somehow, I manage to escape without waking him and I retreat into the main room. But it’s still too close to him. I can smell him on my skin.
I flee to the one place I’ve always had stability: the forge.
Fortunately it’s early enough that no one stops me along the way. Within minutes, the hearth is hot and metal is in it. I can move without thought here, and I allow my mind to go blank.
But my reprieve from facing my choices is short-lived when Ruvan appears. I can sense his presence and don’t turn from the anvil. He slowly approaches as I strike the metal with my hammer, waiting to speak until I’ve put it back into the forge.
“What are you making?”
“I don’t know yet.” The words are a little curter than I intended. You made your own choices last night, Floriane, don’t blame or take it out on him, I scold myself.
He hesitates a moment. “Are you all right?”
I finally look at him and immediately wish I hadn’t. I’d hoped he’d be indifferent. That, somehow, we’d manage to not talk about what’s transpired between us. Or, better yet, he’d also be wracked with misplaced guilt, etched upon his soul by everything we’ve always been taught to be.
“Floriane?” He takes a step forward.
I want to tell him to go away. I want to tell him I’m fine and that last night meant nothing to me and will never happen again. But I know neither is true. My heart has never soared beyond my chest, or fallen from my body like it does when it’s around him. Even if I want to ignore it, even if I harbor guilt for it, this isn’t something I can brush aside…and doing so wouldn’t be fair to him either.
“I… I’m not all right,” I admit. His lips part and his eyes fill with panic as his brows knit in sorrow. I shake my head quickly, my work forgotten as I step toward him. “It’s not you. Not really. I wanted last night. But I…” I stare at a crack in the floor. “I’m still struggling with this, us, you and I as more than enemies. Every time I’m near you, my heart races and I want to touch you. But I hear them—my mother, brother, father, the whole town—judging me for every breath I take and don’t use to curse your name.”
“It was too much too fast,” he says softly.