Page 47 of Dreams of Ash and Smoke

With my heart pounding in my chest, I frantically run in a direction opposite of Dryston. My senses are on high alert as I dash through the unfamiliar trees of Khyrel. Everywhere feels dangerous right now, but anywhere has to be better than staying here with him. As one of the few people in this town with rare hair, I know that I will stand out and potentially draw unwanted attention. But at this moment, all I can think about is finding some kind of refuge.

However, after my time in the treacherous Zoryan court, where everyone was out for themselves and betrayal was common, I find it hard to trust anyone.

My legs are burning with exhaustion, but I push myself to keep going. Just when I start to question if I should have taken a different path, I feel a sharp rock pierce the bottom of my foot and stab into the most vulnerable spot. The pain shoots through me and my inner sarcastic voice wants to comment on how maybe this wouldn’t have happened if I were wearing boots, something Eryx has been onto me about. But I quickly push those thoughts away and try to focus on getting away.

As my breathing becomes more laborious and pieces of dirt from my face fly into my mouth, I feel the adrenaline from the recent fight and fear of being caught by Dryston coursing through me. But I can’t stop now. Eventhough I can no longer see him behind me, I can hear his angry shouts and it only fuels me to keep running. With determination in my stride, I continue forward in the direction I was originally heading toward.

Any thoughts I had about going back to the Court of Dawn are all gone now. Dryston can suck fate if he thinks I’ll ever be in Zorya again. Not until he dies by my hands.

I turn suddenly, running in a different direction once I feel as if it’s too long to go straight. Changing up my pattern will help too.

My head starts throbbing and as I reach up to grab my forehead, I feel a warm wet and sticky substance sliding down my skin. The blood makes me lightheaded, scared of what would happen if I were to pass out right now in the middle of nowhere with Dryston hot on my tail.

I see smoke ahead, the scent of food and mead overlapping with the scent of sweat and earth. A cry of relief goes through me. I didn’t think I’d feel this relieved since Hadeon and I passed through the border.

The doors swing open as I burst inside, causing a stir among the crowd. All eyes turn to me, some wide with surprise and others gaping in shock. My gaze sweeps over the room, taking note of the few individuals wearing Khyrelian armor.

“Help me,” I gasp, my knees giving out beneath me. A guard quickly rushes forward to catch me before I hit the ground. My vision begins to fade into darkness, blinking in and out like a faulty light bulb. I squint my eyes, willing myself not to pass out.

“What is your name?” One of the guards asks me while another stands close by, scowling at my appearance. A maid hurries over with a cup of water, assisting me in taking small sips. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath.

As I start to calm down, I strain to hear any sounds in the building. The once silent space is now filled with voices whispering and murmurs of concern, but Dryston’s angry calls and growls are no longer audible.

“My name is Verena, I’m King Eryx’s betrothed. I was just attacked in the woods by the king of Zorya.” Whatever whispers were surrounding the silence, stopped too. I swear everyone can hear my heart beat fast and hard.The guard helping me is young and I take the time to look at him and the other guard here.

The one bending in front of me holds an empathetic look. He’s young and handsome but I can tell he was a newer guard. Definitely not older than the king. He seemed sweet and concerned for my well-being. His dirty blond hair falls to the side of his head in curls, his tanned skin, and his hazel eyes warm like the sunny forest I just ran from; brown with hints of green drizzled throughout.

The older one standing with a scowl looks as if he isn’t necessarily happy with my presence but he seems to not completely hate me. Esmeray had told me some of the guards weren’t happy with the union and how they don’t trust me, which I knew I’d have to rectify. But seeing it in person was throwing me off. “Liam, get word to the king.” He says, his voice seemingly deeper than who I am assuming is Liam. His eyes were brown too, but more caramel-colored to stand out against his skin tone. He was taller and more built, as to be expected with the older but still young fae.

The one kneeling nods his head before giving me one last concerned gaze and booking it out to his horse outside.

“Are you alright?” The older one questions me, concerned only in the name of the king, I’m sure.

“I think so.” He hands me the wet rag from the maid and let’s me try to clean myself up. I don’t even know how the cut on my head got there but it’s slowed down the bleeding. I apply pressure to try to stop it as the guard and I stare each other down. “You don’t like me much, do you?” I ask him, still breathless and barely conscious, curiosity eating away at me.

He watches the room as everyone goes back to their business, stealing glances at me every so often. “I do not know you.” Is all he says but it is a loaded answer.

“I do not blame you, you know? I wouldn’t trust me either. I have done nothing to earn anyone’s trust. The only thing you all have to go on is the word of the royal family. I came from nowhere and out of the blue. It’s hard to trust a person like that.” He watches me carefully as I speak. “I’d like to earn your trust— the guards and the people of Khyrel.”

He nods in understanding, “I look forward to you earning it, Lady Verena.” There isn’t more words to be said so we sit in silence, waiting for Liam and the king to return.

* * *

“Where is she?”

The tavern was now empty, the loud voice of King Eryx booming through the once lively atmosphere. The guard and a few others had quickly cleared out the remaining patrons, leaving us alone in the dimly lit room. As Eryx bursts through the door, his face was flushed and his muscular tanned body shook with rage. In that moment, I realized just how much trouble I was in. He was furious with me for wandering into the woods and leaving the castle grounds.

I stand from my seat, my hands trembling as I tried to remain composed. He immediately takes notice of me and even as other guards stare and watch, the one who had been here the entire time stepped forward to speak with the king. But Eryx ignored him completely, storming toward me with furious purpose.

In a sudden and unexpected move, his large hands cover my cheeks as he pulls me closer, locking eyes with me. Though his rage still burns within him, it seems to diminish slightly at the sight of me. “Where else are you hurt?” His thumb brushes gently over my head wound, no longer actively bleeding but still sore to the touch. I wince at the pressure and he immediately stops, concern evident in his features.

I can’t even remember now, where my other wounds are, with him here holding me like this. I thought he would be mad at me. Not worried. Not like this. Maybe for the female that holds the secrets to protecting his kingdom from war but not as if nothing else matters but my safety. My chest rises and falls rapidly, in time with my heart profusely pounding from his proximity. His shadows caress me all over as if searching for morewounds.

“Nowhere important.” I guess as he pulls me further back, reluctantly, from his own body and assesses me with his dark eyes. “Just some scratches.” My voice is quiet and small. “Dryston was here.” It cracks as I finally want to break down from realization. “I am so sorry. I should’ve listened to you. I- I thought I’d be fine but I was wrong. He tried to take me back but I wouldn’t let him… I wouldn’t let him! A-and he started attacking me and I tried. I tried to get away. I could barely hold him off. I-” I stop speaking, my thoughts a jumbled mess wanting to tell him about my powers but not in front of other ears. He sees this as I glance around before meeting his eyes.

“I know Dryston was here. As soon as they found me and told me what happened, I rushed over to find you and yelled for them to search the woods. But he isn’t my priority.” His eyes read my soul as if trying to tell me something with them. “I needed to know you were okay.”

He pulls me to him with gentle urgency, his strong arms enveloping my slender frame. The sudden embrace catches me off guard, but I reciprocate, inhaling his familiar scent — a mix of maple and brown sugar and something uniquely him — to soothe my frayed nerves. I can sense him doing the same, his breath warm against my hair, sending a tingling current of energy coursing through my body. “Let’s get back to the castle,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against my ear. I nod wordlessly, my cheek presses against the rough fabric of his tunic. He slowly releases me, only to tuck me closer to his side, his arm a protective barrier as we exit the dimly lit tavern. He acknowledges the guards with a curt nod as we pass.

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