Page 35 of Fear the Flames
“I’m so sorry; I lost my balance.” The person’s eyes glance between Cayden and me.
I reach for Cayden’s outstretched hand and rein it back in, ignoring the weight of his hand in mine. Pressing my other hand to his chest, I slowly back him away from the bar. “Calm down, hazel-eyed heathen. It’s nothing a bath can’t fix.” My voice is a bit breathless. His thin cotton shirt enables me to feel the hard ridges of his muscles.
Cayden blinks in confusion and looks down at me. “What did you call me?”
My mouth goes dry. Damn alcohol for making my filter disappear! “I called you an idiot,” I stammer. “People are going to think we’re together if you keep acting like this.”
“Let them think whatever they want if it keeps creeps away from you. It’s not like it can happen,” he rushes out.
“Right.” My hand on his chest suddenly feels far too personal, and I drop it away along with my eyes. Of course, it’s just a protective measure. We’re two people too consumed by revenge to let anything else in. “We should go back to the castle,” I add. Finnian has made his way back to the table, so I wave over to the others and ignore the way Cayden is still looking at me like he wants to say something else. Our hands are covered in thorns, and every touch draws more blood.
ChapterSeventeen
“Do you still want to talk tonight, or do you want to sleep off the whiskey and cider?” Cayden asks as we enter my room. His tone is back to being playful.
I flip him off, “We’ll talk. I’m taking a bath first because I smell like ale.” My hand plucks at the neckline of my dress that was drenched while standing at the bar. The walk home helped sober me up, and the five of us went down to the kitchen for some water and bread before retiring for the night. “Shut the door between our rooms after you leave,” I call out. Hyacinth began drawing a bath for me while I was in the kitchen, so the steaming tub is ready for me to slip inside.
“I’ll grab some fresh linen and then I’ll be back to place it beside the tub for you, my lady.” Hyacinth curtsies and exits the bathing chamber.
I step out of my dress and sink into the bath. She prepared the vanilla and lavender oils just as I like them. I pour another glass of water from the crystal pitcher on the stand next to the tub and drink half of it before setting it down. My head doesn’t feel as fuzzy as it did at the tavern, and I’ve had enough water that I won’t be hungover tomorrow, which is a blessing. The door creaks open behind me, and I remember how I wanted to ask Hyacinth about using the curlers.
“I was wondering if you could teach me ho—” my sentence is cut off when a pair of rough hands grip my shoulders and shove me under the water. The tub is so deep that it doesn’t take much to submerge me, and my legs aren’t long enough to reach the end. My hands push against the bottom, fighting to breach the surface, but the person holding me down has incredible strength. It’s not Hyacinth, that’s for sure.
I choke on soapy water, and my chest burns from the lack of air in my lungs. I give up trying to shove myself above the water and attempt to pry their hands off. It’s no use. Another pathetic choke escapes my lips—the bubbles rise, mocking me. I reach my hand toward the side table and grip the crystal pitcher in my weak hand, slamming it over my assailant’s head in a desperate attempt to free myself. Their hands move from my shoulders and latch onto my neck, squeezing hard. The light blurs above the water. I feel like I did in my cell, looking out at the world through a sliver between stones.I can’t die like this. I don’t need a knife when I have my mind.
My hands pad against the bottom of the tub and my fingers close around a shard of glass from the pitcher’s handle. I plunge the glass into their wrist, and blood clouds the water around me. I pull it out and plunge it in again, cutting a vertical line down their wrist. If I die, I’m taking my assailant with me. I’ll give them a wound so deep that even their soul will wear it in the afterlife. They may think they found me in a helpless position, but I’m never helpless. If I wasn’t using glass, then I would’ve used my teeth. The blood grows thicker in the tub, obscuring my vision until all I’m surrounded by is the deep red cloud of my sins.
I’d rather drown in my sins than drown in my goodness.
The hands vanish from my body, and I grip the side of the tub, hauling myself forward. I cough water onto the floor while I cling to the porcelain as if it’s my lifeline. A pair of strong arms wrap around me, and a sob of relief shudders through me. My head is buried into a warm neck while I take in heavy gulps of air.
“Secure the fucking perimeter!” Cayden commands someone beyond the door.
“Is she hurt?” Ryder’s rattled voice filters in.
“Go now!” he barks.
“Cayden,” I wheeze.
“I’m right here.” He pulls me closer, and my chest presses into the side of the tub. “Elowen…the blood, is it yours?” His tone is frantic. One arm stays wrapped around me, holding me upright, but the other slides up toward my head and gently pulls me from the crook of his neck. He cradles my face in his rough hand—the gentle touch is so opposite to the feel of him, all hard muscles, sharp lines, and glares. I didn’t think it was possible for Cayden to look like this…so distressed.
“It’s not my blood,” I manage through my raspy throat. His eyes flash toward my neck and the way his nostrils flare leads me to believe that bruises are already forming. My body starts to tremble as my brain catches up to the gravity of what just happened. An assassin got into my room. Cayden must have slit his throat because a wide arc of blood drips down from the wall, and a man lies crumpled in a crimson puddle on the tile floor.
“They’ve never gotten that close,” I whisper.
His arms instantly tighten on me, and I’m pulled into his neck again. “You’re safe now,” he murmurs while stroking the back of my head. “You’re safe with me, angel.”
I don’t know if it’s the way he says the words like a promise or if it’s the way he feels like the only steady formation while the world shakes around me, but I do something I’ve never done with anyone other than Finnian. I let his comfort soak into me and loop my arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Even if we’re both covered in thorns, I want him to pierce me right now because he’s the only person that understands the depth of why we need each other, and maybe he needs this reassurance just as much as I do. Watching him slip away would be the equivalent of watching my dragons slip away. I can continue to hate relying on him in the morning; I’ll allow myself to forget tonight. He reaches to the side to unplug the tub before his hand returns to my head, resuming the soothing strokes.
“I heard the glass shatter through the door. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”
I shake my head in his neck, which feels a lot like nuzzling, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it, and I’m too shaken up to care. “You’re here,” is all I can manage to get out because it’s true.
“Of course I’m here.” His voice is comforting but his heart is beating uncontrollably.
My mind can’t wrap around the fact that when I needed help…it was Cayden that ran to me. Even if he only did it because of the dragons and the fact he needs me alive to get them, he’s still the one that’s here, holding me against him. The rim of the tub presses into my chest, we’re hardly touching, but it’s the only thing keeping me from running out of this castle and screaming in frustration. He stays silent until the water completely drains from the tub, leaving a rim of blood and exposing the glass at the bottom.
“I’m going to lift you from the tub now,” he says quietly, as if he doesn’t want to disturb the peace between us.
