Page 46 of Restored

The thoughts scare and confuse me. What is my life without Bellehaven, without Maddox, and would the King ever really let me live peacefully outside of his kingdom?

I pause my thoughts, seeing Forde’s expectant look. “It’s a long, unfortunate story, and I wouldn’t want to bore you.” I wave him off and glance over at Ledger. His eyes are still trained on Forde and me, a quiet simmering rage behind them.

“Ledger seems like a big fan of yours,” I pan, looking away.

“He’s never really liked me since I was involved with his sister. Even less when she wandered over to Grimwood a year back. Ledger came to us frantic one night, asking for our help tracking her. We agreed but ran into a pack of wild boar not long after we set out. We found her tracks after a few hours, but by the time we came across her, she had already met her unfortunate demise. All that was left was one of the silly little flower crowns she always insisted on wearing.”

My stomach twists.

“Ledger went insane; he killed every last one of the Kerolu responsible. I’m sure a part of him still blames me for not doing more, for us not getting there sooner.”

My mouth hangs open; whatever I expected him to say, it certainly wasn’t that. I set my drink down, suddenly sick. “That’s horrible,” I respond as Forde’s hand finds my arm. He grips it softly as if to offer some kind of comfort. It doesn’t feel warm and reassuring; it feels cold, wrong.

I jump as a dagger is slammed into the bar top, the tip securing Forde’s sleeve. My arm is torn out of his grip. I seeArchie out of the corner of my eye start to creep towards us with his hand on his own dagger.

“If I hear my name or my family’s name come from your mouth again, I will cut out your tongue.” Ledger’s voice is laced with fury. His face is threateningly close to Forde’s.

Forde doesn’t even flinch as he takes a sip of his pint. “My sincerest apologies, Ledger. The last thing I would want to do is upset you.” His words don’t come out as sincere; the look on his face almost taunting.

I frown, looking back and forth between them. Ledger looks like he is contemplating killing him.

“Ledge, what do you say we call it a night? It’s been a long day.” Archie appears, his hand going to Ledger’s shoulder and putting light pressure there.

Ledger’s eyes don’t leave Forde, his gaze intense and furious. “Ledger,” Archie tries again.

I reach my hands out, lightly touching his forearm. At that, his eyes leave Forde’s to glance down.

He yanks the dagger out of the wood, the sharp side of the knife nicking Forde’s arm. Blood instantly stains the fabric. I notice that, for once, my power doesn’t react.

“You stay away from her,” he threatens as he abruptly turns, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the bar.

When we make it back to the room, he slams the door, making me wince. I stand awkwardly as he takes a few deep, steadying breaths. “Stay away from him, Layla.”

“Okay, maybe we should go to bed. Archie was right, it’s been a long day.” I can’t bring myself argue with him.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” Ledger grabs a folded blanket from the foot of the bed and a pillow.

I sit, watching him. Forde’s earlier words swirl in my head, an ache forming for him in my heart.

“Do not look at me like that.” His movements tense as he unfolds a blanket with too much force, snapping it against the floorboards.

“I’m not looking at you like anything,” I reply flatly.

Ledger removes his shirt with one hand, balling it up and throwing it in the corner. He steps out of his trousers and blows out the lanterns.

I lay on my side, staring at the outline of his body as the moon emits a soft glow through the window. Ledger lays down, tossing and turning for a few moments, punching his pillow and huffing back down.

His back is to me, and I can see it moving up and down as he breathes. The bed seems too big and too suffocating all at the same time. I sigh and then make up my mind. Grabbing my pillow, I shuffle over to Ledger. I toss it down next to him and lower myself to the ground.

“Layla,” he growls. “What are you doing?”

“I’d rather be down here with you.”

“Get back up on the bed.”

“No.”

“Layla,” he grits.

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