Page 39 of The Dark Mage
Now it was her turn to worry she might unravel—splinter into a thousand wisps of darkness and float into the night.She pressed against his chest and backed them away from the window, reaching to draw the curtain against their audience.
And just like that, he let go, opened her door, and walked swiftly to his room—leaving Ren’wyn’s arms empty and cold as she stared at the space he had burned with his presence.
12
In the night, Ren’wyn fell down a long, black hole into a pit filled with claws and dark, hidden beasts.They tore at her face, her arms, her legs.Above her, lit from behind, stoodErst.
“Come out,” he taunted.“Come out, Ren’wyn.I can save you if you belong to me.”
And she knew—she knew the choice was death, a long, slow, and painful death in the darkness of this pit, or a lifetime with Erst: pinched, belittled, and slowly destroyed.
So she fought her faceless attackers as they sliced at her arms, then her back and stomach, while Erst watched.
She was bleeding—bleeding and dying and screaming—and the pain was too much.Toomuch...
Ren’wyn jolted awake, covered in sweat.Her throat was sore, as though she had been screaming.All the blankets were on the floor.
And then she sawFael.
He crouched at her bedside, hands on her arms.He had been shaking her, and his eyes were wide with concern.
“Ren’wyn,” he choked.
She was gasping, weeping, and sweating, touching her face and arms to make sure it had been a dream.Just a dream.Fael was here.This was real—this was real.It had only been a dream.
Ren’wyn grabbed his forearms as he held hers.It was a physical tether to reality—the feel of his warm skin and the heat of him so close.Her gaze dropped, and she saw he was shirtless, the powerful muscles of his chest and abdomen on full display as he grippedher.
A shock of arousal washed away her lingering fear.He was so warm.Heat and fire crawled along her bones, and she leaned toward him, her face heating.
Fael let go and tipped back.“Are you alright?”he asked.“You were screaming.”
“I will be,” she replied, shaking her head to clear it and climbing back into bed.Her voice was rough, so she took a sip of her water.“A bad dream.A bad memory.When they mix…” She twisted her mouth.“I’m reminded of what I left behind—and that I have nothing to return to.”
His hand brushed her hair from her cheeks before tracing the path of her last tear.Then, he swept her into a gentle embrace, whispering, “This is real.I won’t leave you alone.We can be strong together.”
She held onto his warm skin, the scent of him enveloping her.Reassured by his gentle voice, she let him lay her down and tuck the blankets back aroundher.
When he climbed into the bed next to her, wrapping her in his embrace, she stiffened and tried not to gasp in surprise.
“Sleep now, Ren’wyn,” he whispered, stroking her hair slowly.“Sleep, and don’t be afraid.”
And shedid.
Darkness.Exhaustion.Even the air weighed heavily on Ren’wyn as the days passed.She couldn’t summon an appetite.Sleep became a distant memory until dawn, when it crept in on the heels of nightmares and fear.Ren’wyn didn’t rise until late morning, arriving at the apothecary late.She knew she kept forgetting her tasks but couldn’t manage even the simplest ones.The shelves, the customers, and the herbs in the apothecary all blurred together.Axel’s gentle hand and soft voice found her staring, dazed, out the windows more than once.The contact—the conversation—ithurt.
Fael slept in her bed, shaking her awake when the nightmares manifested and her magic lashed out.In his arms, she surrendered to the tears and pain that came with her memories.Unlike Axel’s contact, Fael’s strong arms and warm skin banished her dreams with reality—his embrace was the only light before the darkness of her insignificance descended again.
Ten days of avoiding training.She floated like a shade through the bare minimum needed to exist.
On the eleventh morning, Fael took her outside and lifted her into the double saddle on the innkeeper’s horse.Mounting up behind her, he nudged the horse into awalk.
Slow and easy, the horse traveled down the road, and Fael pulled her to his chest so that her weary head rested against his shoulder.How did he know exactly what to do?He talked aimlessly of the birds and the farms they passed, pointing out the fences he had mended and the families he had delivered her medicines to.
Unbelievable—how he remembered each farmer, each family, by name andjob.
They reached an abandoned house shortly before lunch.Fael lifted her down and walked her to a small bench in an overgrown garden.Crushed mint wafted up from beneath their feet, the plants tangled with bindweed.Pulling out his pack, he handed her a roll and an apple.
“You shouldn’t go hungry for this,” he said, encouraging her toeat.
