The next morning Leonie woke to a throbbing ache in her side and the feeling that she was about to combust from heat. For a few seconds she had no idea where she was, and panic almost overtook her— until she realized whom she was lying against.
Her head rested on Dorian's arm, her face pressed to his chest, while his other, heavy arm was draped around her, right across her bruised ribs. When she turned her head slightly, she discovered a second massive male body at her back, pressed up against her.
She squeezed her eyes shut again and tried to decide what she felt about this. She should have been terrified. The night had passed without incident, but how could she trust them so quickly? Yet when she searched for the fear, she found mostly embarrassment— she had never slept like this with anyone before— and a strange awareness of how surprisingly pleasant it felt to be wrapped in Dorian's arms.
For the first time she had the chance to really study his face up close, and she had to admit he was stunning. In sleep, his features had softened, no longer so strict and tense, but there was still something ageless and regal about him. A pale blond strand had fallen across his brow, and Leonie suddenly wondered what it would feel like to touch it.
She lifted her bandaged hand and reached toward his face. Before she could make contact, Dorian's eyes snapped open and his fingers closed around her wrist, stopping her. Leonie hissed in pain, and his grip immediately gentled, though he did not let go.
They gazed into each other's eyes, barely breathing, until Dorian finally released her. Leonie, her hand now trembling lightly, finished what she had started and brushed the lock of hair aside from his face.
The simple, tender gesture robbed Dorian of words. It shook him, how someone who had grown up in such a filthy, cruel court could remain so unspoiled. How she could look at him with such trust after everything that had happened.
From this close he could have counted her freckles. A faint blush colored her cheeks, making her look even more endearing, and her mouth… those kissable lips… He closed his eyes for a heartbeat to rein in the desire stirring in him.
The hush of the forest at dawn, the peace wrapping around them— it all fed a devouring hunger in him, a longing for the girl's body and soul. His magic responded at once, stirring, reaching.
"What was your life like at the castle?" he asked suddenly.
The question clearly took Leonie by surprise, and she thought about it for several minutes.
"It wasn't as bad as it looks…" she whispered.
"The baron kept me safe. You know, humans are afraid of anything they don't understand. And fae only exist in old legends for them. In those stories… well, the fae are always the villains. So if they had found out I was one of you, they probably would have killed me. But the baron kept me alive. He didn't even tell the king the truth about me. The king would have given me an even worse fate than the baron."
"And didn't he?" Dorian cut in with a frown.
"I know the baron is not a good man. But everything has a price."
That sentence had caught Dorian's ear before, and it made his skin crawl every time.
"Why do you say that? What price did you have to pay for the baron's protection?"
The silence stretched between them so long that Dorian started to wonder if she had fallen back asleep. Then she spoke again— so softly that a human ear might not have heard her at all.
"When I was a little girl, the baron sometimes came to visit and brought me little gifts, which made me very happy. You know, all I had back then was a tiny room with a bed. I had nothing else, no toys, I was barely allowed to leave. I always waited for him to come, to bring something new and interesting, or at least tell me a story. He was… like a father to me. I didn't see him often, but when I did, he was always kind."
She drew a deep breath and paused.
"Then, when I was seven, he asked me for something in return for the first time. I didn't like it, but he said I was a big girl already and a freeloader, and all he asked was that I take off my nightgown. That it wasn't such a big thing. So I did it, and I told myself it was fine. Once, when I was about ten, I watched them pay Esthelle her monthly wages. I asked her if she did what the baron asked of her too, in exchange. She said, 'Child, remember, everything has a price.' So I comforted myself again, that it was all right. Esthelle is a good woman… she's just… afraid. Like everyone else."
She paused again, tongue darting out to wet her dry lips.
"When I was sixteen, the baron introduced me to his friends for the first time. By then I knew how wrong it all was. I actually… I tried to end it. More than once. But the punishment was always worse than… than if I obeyed. You know… they never actually touched me. But…"
She finally lifted her gaze to Dorian's face— and the horror she saw there choked off the rest of her words. She fell silent at once, shame rising hot through her body for having told him the truth. She blushed from head to toe.
She did not even notice Marcus slip away from behind her. Everything happened so fast that by the time she scrambled to her knees, the two men were already struggling at the horses.
Dorian's movements were too quick for her eyes to follow.
"Stop it! Whatever you're about to do, I absolutely forbid it!" he snapped at his friend, one hand clamped on Marcus's reins to keep the horse from moving.
"Did you not hear what she said?" Marcus roared from the saddle, trying over and over to yank the reins free from Dorian's iron grip. He failed each time.
"I heard every word, I can assure you," Dorian replied in a low voice, eyes dark. Rage burned through him, but he still could not allow rash decisions.
"Then what is wrong with you? Since when are you so forgiving with that sort of vermin?" Marcus's temper flared so high that even the wind seemed to stir at their argument, rattling the leaves violently.
"Believe me, I'm in a killing mood as well. But that doesn't mean I'm going to go do something stupid, and I'm sure as hell not going to let you do it," Dorian said.
Leonie took a few shaky steps toward them, wringing her hands. The two men looked ready to tear each other apart, and she felt responsible. She had to do something.
She walked up to Marcus and laid her hand on the one that still gripped the reins.
"Please don't," she said softly. "I'm grateful, but I just want to get as far away from him as possible."
Marcus stared down at her for a good half-minute. The fury in his eyes slowly ebbed away; he patted her small hand in reassurance and then turned back to Dorian.
"You drag the truth out of her, and then you do nothing? I did not swear my oath to this king," he growled, sliding down from the saddle.
As he stomped past Dorian, he deliberately slammed his shoulder into him, but the other man responded with nothing more than a sigh.
He was left standing there with Leonie, who gazed at him, wide-eyed.
"He'll calm down," Dorian said at last. He had long grown used to Marcus's fiery temperament, but his words had struck home.
He knew he should never have pushed Leonie into opening up before she was ready. The urge to know everything about her had simply overwhelmed him. And Marcus was right: everyone in that castle deserved to be gutted where they stood, starting with the baron.
But they had already begun badly enough with the humans as it was. The king might forgive them for stealing the baron's toy— just barely. But explaining why they had strung the king's most trusted man up in his own entrails from the gate… that would be rather more difficult.
"Get ready, we're leaving soon," he said tensely.
Leonie walked off toward the lake without a word, to freshen up as quickly as she could. She had no idea what had gotten into her, to bare her soul like that to two complete strangers. She had never told anyone what the baron had done to her— not without reason.
She saw Dorian's horrified expression again in her mind's eye and flushed all over as shame prickled across her skin. She scrubbed herself again and again as though she could wash off the filth of the past.
Why did she even care what Dorian thought of her? He had no idea what it meant to live a life in chains, without the luxury of choice. It was easy for him to judge. All she had done was try to survive. That did not make her bad.
And if Dorian was already looking at her with disgust, their paths would soon part anyway. Among the fae she would find some quiet corner to disappear to.
"You done yet?" Dorian's voice sounded not far behind her as she stood fully dressed at the water's edge.
She nodded slowly, then turned her back on the lake and started toward the horses without looking at him. Her eyes searched for Marcus, hoping she might ride with him that day, but to her disappointment he had already set off and did not look back.
The next moment, Dorian's strong arm closed around her waist and he swung her up in front of him. She tried to wriggle away, but he did not loosen his hold, merely nudged his horse into a brisk trot.
He could feel how stiffly she sat, like she had swallowed a spear, and he had no idea what to say after their morning conversation. Guilt gnawed at him for not leaving her the choice to speak of her past only when she was ready, when she trusted them enough— and at the same time he was furious. Furious that he cared at all about what she felt. Furious with humans for torturing such a fragile creature for so many years.
He wanted to comfort her, to soothe her, but he had no idea what words to use. That he was sorry? That he wished he could have been there to protect her? It all sounded ridiculous.
The truth was, this girl was braver and tougher than the two of them put together. She surely was not yearning for his pity.
If he had known that all Leonie wanted was for him to behave as he had before their talk— as if she had not sprouted three extra heads overnight— their journey might have been much easier.
Instead, they rode on in strained silence all day, with only the sounds of the forest breaking the stillness around them.