Page 118 of Fear the Flames
“I’m fine, just a little dizzy.” I shove the heels of my palms into my eyes before opening them again. The world still spins, but it’s not as bad.
“I’m going to carry you the rest of the way, stay as close to my skin as you can. We’re not far.” He moves to pick me up, but I step out of his hold.
“No, I’m better now. I can finish the run.” I don’t want to slow him down.
“That’s too bad,” he ignores my protest and crowds my space again, scooping me in his arms. By reflex, I loop my arms around his neck. “Because I’m calling in my favor,” he declares while running forward, “face in my neck, now.”
I do as he says and close my eyes once I’m comfortable. “You waited all this time only to use your favor to carry me.”
“You’d be surprised by how much I view that as a reward,” he responds, but his tone is missing the usual sarcastic flare. I snuggle closer to him and let him carry me the rest of the way through the forest. He runs in silence, and the sound of his heartbeat lulls me to a half-asleep state that I only resurface from when I hear a horse chuffing.
I pull my head from his neck and take in the small town he’s walking us through. It’s quaint and rundown; some houses seem to have sunken roofs that have never been fixed. Warm light streams out of other homes as smoke rises from chimneys into the chilly night. Snow lightly coats every roof, almost like it’s so cold here that the snow doesn’t bother melting because more will just pile on top of it. The road isn’t made of stone; twigs snap under Cayden’s boots as he walks us further into the town. It’s too cold for anyone to be out on their porches and too late for anyone to be awake and roaming the streets.
“How did you know about this place?” I inquire. It’s a small and insignificant village, and I’ve never seen it on any maps. I turn my head back toward him and take in his grave expression—his clenched jaw up to his stone-cold eyes. He keeps looking at one of the largest buildings in the town, which I assume is the inn, and doesn’t take in the dilapidated sights.
“It’s where I was born,” his tone is final, and I know he doesn’t want me to ask questions, so I let it drop in the space between us. I know how hard it is to have an unwelcome person dig into your past. He’s already revealed a handful within that sentence because from the look of it…he doesn’t have any family left here. I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, and his shoulders go rigid before easing into my hold.
“You should set me down,” I mumble as we near the inn’s front steps. Cayden hesitates for a moment but gently lowers me and sets me on my feet. He steps in front of me and holds the door open after quickly scanning the inside.
My knees weaken at the sudden blast of warmth, and I lean my back against the wall to get my bearings. A few people sit on barstools at the front of the inn; I guess being this far out doesn’t erase the normal setup for inns—tavern on the bottom. A few others linger amongst tables, smoking pipes or taking swigs from tankards. Cayden catches the eye of the man behind the counter while he tosses a towel over his burly shoulder and nods in our direction.
“Go stand by the fire, I won’t be long,” Cayden says, guiding me off the wall. I rub my hands together and walk in the opposite direction of Cayden, never being more grateful for warmth in my entire life. My cell in Imirath was cold, the first winter in Aestilian even more so, but nothing compares to the kind of cold we just experienced. I raise my shaking hands in front of me and try not to crumble to the ground to get as close to the flames as possible. My pale fingers grip the wooden mantle to keep me steady on my feet as the heat trickles into my soaked boots, returning some feeling to my toes.
“I can keep you warm, darling,” chimes a male voice from one of the tables next to me. I roll my eyes and tilt my head back to face the ceiling, not in the mood to deal with men. I take my time looking him over. Auburn hair, brown eyes, maybe a few years older than me, and a soldier’s build. His friends slap him on the back and stare at him as if he hung the stars in the sky.
My lip curls in disgust as I drum my fingers on the mantelpiece, “I don’t think I’d be able to get past your stench.”
The man gets to his feet while his friends watch in anticipation. “I do like them feisty,” he smirks. I narrow my eyes and square my shoulders, ready to pelt him with another insult, but a pair of hands snake around my waist, and my back presses into a firm chest.
“As do I,” Cayden states, staring the man down over my shoulder. I relax into his hold and rest my hands over his. “Was he bothering you, angel?”
“It was a joke, calm down,” the man begins to back down and walk toward his chair. His friend’s eyes flicker between Cayden and him.
“Is she laughing?” Cayden asks darkly. “Make another pass at her again, and the last thing you’ll see is a knife flying at you, straight between your eyes. You should know that I adore her violent streak and don’t mind cleaning up her messes.”
I tighten my hands on his to show my gratitude not only for stepping in, but for building me up and not downplaying my abilities. Cayden doesn’t wait for a response before tugging my body away from the fire and down the hall. He guides me to walk in front of him while keeping a hand on my hip. We round the corner and walk up a dimly lit flight of stairs to an open door on the right side of the hall. It’s a simple room, with no fuss or flare, and only one bed. I force my eyes away. If I stare at it too long, then I won’t be able to stop my mind from traveling to places that shouldn’t be my priority right now.
I take in a steadying breath; thankful Cayden can’t read my thoughts and notice a door in the center of the wall across from the bed. That must be the bathroom. I hear someone in there filling a tub with water. There’s a wooden dining table in the corner of the room. My boots leave a trail of water on the floor as I round the bed and aim for the fireplace, unable to resist the warmth that calls to my wet clothes. I undo the clasps that keep my corset closed and slide it off my arms, hanging it on one of the hooks in front of the fireplace and nearly moan when the pressure is relieved from my bruises. Cayden loosens the clasps at his neck, shoulders, and back to remove his black fighting gear and reveal his muscular torso.
I focus on the flames, not his muscles. The muscles that I’ll be sleeping next to. I bend down to unlace my boots and rip them off my feet, setting them and my socks by the fire. Oh gods, we don’t have any clothes to wear tonight. My mind wanders to what it would feel like to have his muscular frame pressed against me with nothing in between. The fluttering sensation in my belly is replaced by irritation when a maid comes out of the bathroom with empty buckets, looking Cayden up and down like he’s a four-course meal. Without thinking better of it, I get to my feet and angle my body in front of his. I see him press his lips together in the corner of my eye, and he lightly caresses my hip bone before letting his hand fall to his side again.
“You should get in the tub before the water gets cold. I’m off for the night, and nobody else here is going to heat more water,” the maid says, closing the door behind her, and leaving us alone in our room.
“You get in. I’ll be fine with a cold bath,” Cayden says before I can speak.
“No, you carried me here, so you deserve the hot bath,” I argue, spinning on my heels to meet his eyes.
“Absolutely not, I didn’t do that for you to use it against me.” He points a finger at my face.
“I’m not using it against you.” I swat his finger away.
“Though I find your stubbornness endearing, I am in no mood for it when you’re shivering. Get in the tub,” he commands.
“No.” I plant my hands on my hips.
“Elowen, I will throw you in that tub if you keep this bullshit up,” he groans, tilting his head down and pinching the bridge of his nose.
“I’ll get in if you get in with me.” My breathing catches in my throat when I notice how he pauses before dropping his hand and slowly looking up at me, his eyes filled with guarded uneasiness and blatant want.
