Page 68 of Unraveled
And we’re doing this just to get me an amulet? I chew on my lip, feeling guilty and excited at the same time. “Is it safe for us to travel?”
“I take this trip often. We’ll stop in Fairhope first, a magical town of sorcerers and humans who want to stay out of the conflict, and then we’ll ride straight to Hedrum, if we make good time.”
The carriage dips again, and my eyes shift to Ash as he steps in. I thought he was breathtaking before. I didn’t know anything. Destiny and whatever game the gods are playing with me can go to hell. With every trace of the curse gone, there’s nothing I don’t find glorious about the king of beasts.
His edge of danger remains in the sharpness of his features. Long, dark lashes frame his now-brown eyes. Sun-kissed skin contrasts against the fur lining the lapels of his charcoal coat.
Beneath the drumming of my heart, I hear a soft, feminine chuckle, and I snap back to reality.
“Are you done gawking, Monster, or did a cat steal your tongue?” He leans against the backrest and closes the carriage door.
“Did you say something?” I swear I didn’t see his mouth move.
His lips tilt, just a little. “Finley asked if the ring caused you trouble the last few nights.”
I glower at Ash and force my eyes toward his much nicer friend. “The ring hates me, but I don’t feel like I’m about to explode anymore.”
“Good.” Finley nods, doing a poor ass job of hiding his amusement, and leans closer to whisper in my ear. “It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? The way they glow? You get used to it.”
Nera waggles her brows at me conspiratorially. Oh gods. I need to get better at concealing my stupid crush on her brother. I don’t even think I can lie to myself about hating him anymore.
Now that all four of us are properly packed inside this box like preserved meat, there’s no way to escape him.
We settle into our trip, and I’m surrounded by gorgeous fae while myself looking like a drenched squirrel with eyes swollen from too much sleep. Even Finley looks ruggedly handsome. The carriage would be comfortable for traveling, if I weren’t accompanied by giants. As it is, it’s cramped and hot inside the cabin.
The roads out of the Kingdom of Aphelion are paved, and transition to gravel the farther we go up the mountains, away from the castle, and onto new lands. Our view out the window changes as the hours pass, the palette shifting from gray to olive hues. The dark forest of the cursed lands fades to grasses and shorter trees, while a thick layer of white clouds remains, as does the mist hugging the ground.
I’ve been sitting in this same position for hours, and my ass is about to melt into the seat if we don’t stop soon. Not that I’m going to be the person to ask how much longer we have—again. Even if everything in me aches. It doesn’t help that I’m massively self-conscious about my humanity and lack of grace as I watch Nera sleep. Not so much as a hint of drool on her chin.
It’s the same with Ash. He lies so still against his corner, it’s like he’s become a statue.
At midday, we stop at a shop on the side of the road that looks like it’s run by human-eating gnomes. We feed the beasts that pull our carriage disguised as beautiful stallions.
“We have to make it to Fairhope before twilight,” Finley tells me as he settles by my side and hands me a green apple.
It has to be because of the slumber.
We arrive at Fairhope by midafternoon, just a few hours before sunset. A small village of twenty or so modest homes, tiny shops with metal signs hanging over their doors, and a large inn with cabins that go up the side of a hill.
The carriage slows in a small plaza with a fountain in the middle and comes to a stop in front of a two-story, white stucco building with wood beams crisscrossing over the walls.
I squint at the brightness outside and meet Ash’s eyes as he stands beside the carriage, extending a hand to help me down. The moment my fingers drape over his, electricity travels up my arm and into my chest, like it has every time we’ve accidentally touched.
This time I’m prepared for it—and it seems so is he. His expression is cool, distant even. Perhaps he didn’t feel it at all, and it’s just in my head.
A young man approaches the carriage, hands Ash a slip, and blabbers about the feed they give the horses. Finley steps forward, whispering directions to the kid while Nera hooks herarm through the crook of my elbow and drags me toward the building.
“Let’s get a table while they explain the strange behavior of our horses to that poor kid,” she says with a chuckle.
We cross through arched doors in desperate need of a fresh coat of paint and into a large room where, at the far end, an old man behind a wooden counter hunches over a book, dipping a tattered quill into his ink pot and scribbling away.
He glances at us over half-moon spectacles and dismisses us with a wave of his rather sizable hand. “A warm meal is off to the right. Stefani will sort you with stew and bread. Out you go—off with you.”
“Come, Mia,” Nera purrs, and pulls me to where the old man pointed. We cross into a dark but cozy room of modest size. Five scattered tables of different shapes and tones of wood fill the space, and a couple of patrons enjoy a meal.
I drink in every detail, from the uneven floor made of gathered river rock, to the rustic columns stained a rich brown. Humidity hangs in the air, saturated with the scent of stew, roasted onions, and butter.
“I haven’t been here in so long, but it looks exactly the same,” Nera says as we cross to the other end of the room, where the small bar stands. The bartender waves in our direction with a jolly smile that makes his red cheeks shine.
