Page 6 of Daughter of Shadows and Ash

I stumbled as we stepped outside, the cool night air hitting me like a splash of cold water. My vision blurred as he steadied me against his solid frame.

"Alora." His voice softened with concern. "What's going on? You can tell me anything."

I opened my mouth but managed only a whisper, the words clinging to the edges of wine and despair.

"I just had a little too much, apparently I can't hold my liquor."

He rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around my waist as we started home. The rhythm of our steps lulled me, my head growing heavy against his shoulder.

"Next time, you're carrying my drunk ass home," he muttered, before sweeping me into his arms, one hand beneath my knees, the other supporting my back.

I nestled against his shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent—pine needles and home.

"I just wish..." My voice faded to barely a whisper, "...you'd choose me."

I swore his grip tightened around me before darkness claimed me.

Chapter 4

The morning sun peeked through the trees, bathing the camp in a soft glow that felt too bright against my throbbing head. I cracked my eyes open, squinting at the light. Pain pulsed through my temples like a hammer striking an anvil. Shadows danced at the edges of my vision, each pulse of pain bringing with it memories of last night's mistakes, sharp and bitter as poison.

"Good morning." Maël's voice cut through the fog, lighthearted yet tinged with something deeper. He leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed and an amused smirk on his face. My traitorous heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, all lean muscle and casual grace, and I hated how even in my miserable state, I couldn't help but notice the way his shirt clung to his shoulders.

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "Ugh, your voice is like nails digging into my skull." My tongue felt like lead, heavy and useless in my parched mouth.

He chuckled softly, moving closer. "You really overdid it last night. I thought I'd have to carry you home if we hadn't stopped for the night." The thought of his arms around me sent anunwelcome shiver down my spine, and I cursed my weakness for him.

"Thanks for the reminder," I muttered, forcing myself to sit up. The world tilted like a ship in a storm, and I swallowed hard against the bile rising in my throat.

"You sure you're alright?" He crouched beside me, concern etched in his features. "Maybe you should drink some water or?—"

"I'm fine!" I snarled, the words clawing their way out of my throat like angry beasts. My voice was raw and jagged as broken glass, each syllable dripping with the venom of my hangover and wounded pride.

Maël jerked back at my outburst, his eyebrows climbing toward his hairline.

"Maybe if you stopped hovering like a worried mother hen," I shot back, my words sharp as daggers.

His expression hardened as he straightened up, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You're awfully venomous for someone I had to take care of all night. You could just say a simple thank you."

"I didn't ask you to take care of me," I spat, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

"You didn't have to." His voice was quiet, all traces of humor now gone.

"Well, next time, leave me in a ditch somewhere!" The words burst from my lips like poison arrows, my vulnerability bleeding through despite my best efforts.

The moment the words escaped, regret wrapped around my heart like a poisoned barb. His concern, his care... gods, I yearned for it like a dying breath. The memory of what led me to drink so much tore through my thoughts like shattered glass. It'd be better to push him away than witness him fall for another. Better, but it felt like plunging a blade between my own ribs.

"Getting drunk won't fix what's eating at you, Lor. I just wish you'd talk to me."

"Save your wisdom for someone who wants it."

I stormed off toward our path home, rage and regret warring with each step, neither winning nor yielding ground.

Our journey was deadly quiet from then on. The silence stretched uncomfortably between us, heavy as a gravestone. By the time we reached Briarwood, fatigue gnawed at my bones with each twist of the path.

My grandmother's cottage came into view, a haven of despite the storm between us.

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