AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It must be here,” I gasped in a frenzy. “It has to be here!”
Realization loosened his features. Turning away, I kept hunting. In the same instant, my friend must have noticed the ribbon’s absence because a thud resounded through the wilderness, signaling he’d discarded his weapon.
However, I did not glance up to check. I continued scrambling amid pebbles and chunks of dirt, even while Eliot called out my name again.
Please.Please.
I felt my eyes glaze over. I thrust my hand toward another patch of stocky bracken—when a set of fingers blocked me. Instantly, I stopped. Hovering before my eyes, a cord of scarlet fabric lay draped across my friend’s digits.
Oxygen emptied from my lungs. I blinked at the ribbon, then took it in my shaky fingers.
Poet
His name teetered on my lips. Yet I compressed my mouth, holding the name inside me, refusing to let it out. If I uttered that name, I would collapse.
Swallowing, I caressed the bracelet and took care to wrap it around my wrist. As I finished the double knot, a broad shadow materialized over the ground. I craned my head and watched Eliot hunker before me, golden waves falling around his face, stubble shadowing his jaw, and tenderness flooding his pupils.
I opened my mouth to speak, to apologize for scaring him, but nothing came out. Instead, Eliot cupped my jaw, telling me I didn’t need to utter a word.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
Whimpering, I hurled myself at him. My friend caught me and strapped his bulky arms around my trembling form, tucking me hard against his chest. The steady beat of his heart synched with mine as dry sobs heaved from my body.
“It’s all right,” he murmured gruffly. “Everything is okay.”
No, it was not okay. Nothing about this was okay.
His thumbs brushed my cheeks as I inched back. Our foreheads fell together, resting there until another warm body pressed into my other side. The floral aroma of Cadence’s perfume lulled my senses as she circled her arms around me and Eliot. Lost in the moment, neither of us had heard the lady approach. Briefly, I beheld Cadence’s visage in the huddle. Evergreen hair to match her eyes and a rare, sympathetic expression.
Twisting, she leaned her chin atop my shoulder and wove her fingers with Eliot’s, the three of us cocooning ourselves into one. And this … this part was okay.
Much later, as eventide veiled the woodland in a deep blue hue, I stared into a blaze while absently stroking the bracelet. Kindling fizzled and split, the flames tossing sparks into the air. Fire could be such a destructive thing—deadly yet enchanting, hypnotic and stunning to behold.
Get near, and it warmed you. Get too close, and it hurt.
Goodness. Melodrama. I was beginning to think and sound likehim. Despite myself, my lips tilted into a sad smile.
We are a tale for campfires. That is all. That is—
“Everything,” I uttered, the words as thin as the tendrils of smoke rising from the timbers.
Yearning squeezed my heart, a wistful moment there and gone. It seemed I hadn’t stopped aching since I left the castle. I should have grown used to it, but I never would.
Perched on a log, I wrapped my arms around my knees. Like this, I pretended my touch was his embrace, my fingers his hands. Keeping me upright. Making me burn with need. Like this, I remembered and counted every flame that had existed between us.
A candle he’d once refused me. A fireplace in his suite, where he first slid his bare cock against my damp core, giving me that first erotic introduction to sex. A hundred fires that had burned while he made me come around him. A tale for campfires.
Whether we would experience that privilege again …
Whether he was all right, faring well, thinking of me …
Whether his son was safe and happy …
And Mother. And so many others I could not be there for, would never get to serve, to build a future with.
Cursed tears rimmed my lashes. I sucked them up, then straightened and pretended to be fussing with a loose eyelash as a male silhouette approached. Eliot hiked through the underbrush, his broad physique knocked the offshoots around, and he lowered himself beside me on the log. His palms cradled a mug of tea, threads of steam carrying the scents of apples and Autumn spices.
Silently, Eliot extended the mug. I blinked at the offering, then at his features. A perceptive but gentle grin slanted across his face. “Your favorite,” he said.
