AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His smile shifted from daylight bright to a thin, downturned line. “You haven’t heard then?”
“Heard what?” I asked, my brow lowered, hooked down by his solemn expression.
“Last month, Rose’s two boys were conscripted under the order of the king. The wagon that was carrying them was involved in an accident. The boys managed to escape, along with some others. Charles and Danny came back to Meristone, rather than turning themselves in to the king, thus evading the draft—which, as you know, is a criminal offense.” His accent thickened, and I thought he sounded a bit judgmental, like he disagreed with their choice to return. Like they should have handed themselves over to be slaughtered. It didn’t sit well with me. “Rose hid them for two weeks in the cellar beneath.” He tapped his foot on the wood plank, and my gaze drifted to the pristine floor.
I imagined her two wide-eyed sons hidden in the dark down there . . . how frightened they must have been, Rose included. I swallowed the lump forming in my throat.
Thomas’s arms knitted loosely over his chest as he continued. “For two and a half weeks, Rose refused to open the shop. You know how this little town is—people started talking until finally the truth washed up, and it quickly spread. When the soldiers heard, they kicked the door in, searched the place, and dragged the boys and Rose out into the streets.”
“What did they do with them?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to the new door that was proudly swung open, allowing customers inside to shop—the evidence of what happened here so easily erased.
“Evading the draft of the king and aiding in the evasion are both punishable by death.” There was no sympathy in his tone.
His reply hit me like a landslide, threatening to wash my feet out. If I had any tears left in me, I would have wept right there and then for Rose and her poor, poor boys.
Von moved behind me on soundless steps, his hand drifting to the small of my back, a gentle, steadying touch, like a tall, ancient tree, sturdy and sure, bracing me. Casually, he glanced around, his gaze pointedly wandering before it lazily drifted to the male standing before me.
“Hi there,” Thomas said by way of greeting, his gaze darting between Von and me, trying to piece together what we were to one another.
As if Von noticed it, too, his hand shifted from the small of my back, his arm draping over my shoulders, intimately tugging me closely into him, staking his claim. Answering Thomas’s question without so much as a word. “Hello, Tom,” Von said flatly, using his name like he knew him. Judging by the off-kilter look on Thomas’s face, he did not. Von, the predatory male, was playing his big cat, little mouse games.
Thomas’s face turned ashen. “Sorry, Sage, it was nice chatting with you, but I have to get back to work.” He scuttled back, raised his hands in defense, and then stumbled away, nearly tripping over the basket of granadilla—a fruit with an inviting, bright-orange exterior but filled with gray, slimy seeds on the inside. They tasted like frog eggs. I didn’t know why the villagers ate them. Even Ezra wouldn’t touch them.
“I look forward to seeing youagain, Tom,” Von called out as Thomas darted into the back. His words sounded like a promise, like it was inevitable that they would meet again.
I peered up at him accusingly. “What did you do to him?”
A careless, one-shoulder shrug. “Nothing he didn’t deserve.” Von walked over to a row of slanted wicker baskets. He inspected the fruit—apples, of course—discarding a few rotten ones on the sparkling, just swept floor—to my complete horror. Finally, he plucked a shiny, red apple from the pile. He brought it to his mouth and sunk his teeth into its flesh, eating it right there, in the middle of the store.
I made a disgruntled sound, muttering a few insults under my breath.
Von raised a black brow. “I’m sorry, Little Goddess.” A sinful smile twisted the corners of his full, sensual mouth. He rolled his wrist towards me, offering the half-devoured apple. “Would you like a bite?”
My stomach grumbled, begging me to partake. I almost reached out, almost pressed my lips against the decadent-looking fruit, but the way he said it, it sounded like one simple bite would cost me my life. And with Von, the king of inky deals, one could never be too sure.
“No, thank you,” I declined before I briskly walked away.
I could hear him chuckle behind me, followed with a crunch as he took another bite.
I quickened my pace as if the hounds of the Spirit Realm were nipping at my ass.
Von and I returned to the footpath carved by my feet and Kaleb’s, heading back towards the cottage.
I carried a sack of potatoes, while Von carried the rest—the basket and two heaped burlap sacks, a wispy leaf of cabbage sticking out on top, bobbing as he walked. Like this, my otherworldly, ancient warrior looked almost . . . mundane. I smiled softly, deciding I liked it. I paused, my mind backing up—my?
Since when did Von becomemy?
As if I had a right to stake a claim. And yet, when Thomas had looked at us, wondering what we were, Von had no problem staking his.
“The shopkeeper has feelings for you,” Von stated flatly. It was the first thing he had said since we started our walk back.
Apparently, I wasn’t the only one thinking about Thomas and relationships and claims.
“I’m aware,” I said, watching Von, who looked less than pleased—annoyed, even. I gargled a thought, swishing it around—was this mighty, powerful male jealous? I smirked. Nowthatwas a juicy one. I had to know. I decided to test my theory. “We courted last spring, a record three months. It was the longest relationship I have ever been in.”
Von snorted at that.
I quirked a brow before I continued delving in. “Thomas’s father was a shopkeeper, and his grandfather before him. He grew up in one. He dreamed of running his own, just like his father. I’m happy he was able to accomplish his goal.” I paused, pivoting to the next part of my plan. “I’m sure you are wondering why we broke up.” I doubted he was, doubted he wanted to hear anymore, yet this was too fun to give up now. I’d get him back for his apple antics, one way or another. I prattled on, “Kaleb didn’t really like him. Also, he thought he was a bit old for me. I didn’t see the problem with the nine-year gap between us. Many women marry older men. And . . .” Oh, this was going to get dirty. “He was pretty good in bed.”
