Page 57 of #Resort Love
Meeting Sybil was a surprise. Even more surprising was that she carried the necklace given to Arbus by his intended as a promise, a hope for him to return safely from his mission in Volmire.
But what really caught me off guard was how fierce the need to save her from the beithir became. How my chest tightened and my heart lodging itself in my throat. When I saw it closing in on her, I couldn’t move, couldn’t think. I called out to her before I could even stop myself. The worry and fear of seeing her hurt tore into me in a way I had never felt in my 346 years. It felt so visceral that my mind went blank, blinded by the need to save her.
Even after I noticed the silver ring dangling from the chained necklace, every fiber of my being screamed against hurting her, so I held back as much as I could. But, as the leader of this rebellion, I had to set my emotions aside, even if it killed me to do so.
I needed answers.
I looked down. The silver ring seemed cold and dull, like the magic inside had faded, leaving nothing behind but an empty shell. I curled my hand around the ring and looked to where she left. Part of me wondered if I should follow her, making sure she escaped from this dark and dangerous forest safely. More than a part of me, actually. It felt like a need that wouldn’t be satiated until I saw her again, safe and sound, until I could hold her in my arms, feeling her warmth seeping into me.
Loosening a breath, I rolled my shoulders, willing the tension to ease. I turned my back on the path that led to her—to Sybil—only focusing on the small, worn trail leading me back to camp. As much as my heart thrashed against my chest from the distance between us, I needed to return to the others.
Traveling through the dark forest was easy enough after the beithir’s attack. The forest was quiet, the fear still lingering in the air as the other creatures waited for its next attack. Fortunately, for me, with my dagger still lodged in its eye, I doubted it would attack anything for a while.
Walking up to the rusted gates, the doors slowly opened, screeching from disuse. I shut down every feeling, keeping my face blank, though dread was worming its way through me with what I had to do next.
I pushed aside my agitation and entered the camp, weaving between tents and makeshift huts until I stood in front of Arbus’s red door. Laughter came from inside the hut; my stomach twisted with every sound. I clenched my jaw, considering coming back tomorrow, but Bryony couldn’t wait any longer. She needed to know what happened to Arbus before word spread of his disappearance. I’d already held off longer than I should have.
Hesitantly, I reached for the door, willing steadiness into my hand. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath and knocked. Thelaughter softened, the door swung open, and I swallowed, preparing to see her bright and smiling face. Instead, my eyes narrowed on Viv, who stood in the doorway. Her knowing gaze shifted down, slowly taking in the drenched state of my clothes, the dirt, the blood. The joy in her gray marbled eyes faltered.
Viv frowned and stepped back, allowing me enough room to enter the hut. Although it was small, it felt warm, homey. It was one large room with the kitchen area on the right and a sitting area in the middle. There was a dark wooden partition that kept the sleeping cot hidden away. Viv closed the door softly, lingering back to give me space to face Bryony. Viv always had a way of knowing what was to come, even without using her divination magic.
Bryony was busy mixing herbs by the hearth, preparing for tonight’s meal. Following Viv’s example, she loved cooking meals for the group, always creating new concoctions with the herbs and game provided to her each day, though some recipes didn’t always work out. More than once, the camp was laid out sick for days, but her cheery spirit and fiery soul always made up for those miserable days. She meant well, and everyone loved to see that wide smile of hers.
Finishing up her newest blend, Bryony looked up, her face paling at my grim expression. “Tell me,” she sighed, setting her tools aside.
I cleared my throat, stepping closer to her, placing the necklace on the counter beside her. My hand lingered before I stepped back, though her gaze held onto mine, her golden-flecked blue eyes turning misty, as if she knew what would be lying there. My throat bobbed and her chest began rising quickly. Steeling herself, Bryony looked down at the ring, the silver gleaming in the soft light.
“How?” Bryony choked out, her voice low and meek. A lock of copper hair fell over her face.
“I’m still waiting for more information,” I murmured. “I found the necklace in the fields outside Volmire.”
My heart clenched at the lie, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. I hated seeing her face fall, hated the tears that were now flowing freely. However, if my suspicions of who Sybil was to me, to Samian, were correct, I couldn’t let anyone know of her involvement. Especially not when the possibility of her needing our help in the future was so great. The rebels knew of Samian’s task with Ambrose, knew how his responsibility was to stand beside him and feed us information on the court’s plans against the queen and the rebellion. But Sybil? She was still too new, too fresh. They would see her participation as an affront, an obstacle that needed to be taken care of. I would not allow that to happen.
A sob broke free and Bryony crumpled to the floor, her face buried in one hand, while the other clutched her own necklace, which held the matching ring that Arbus had worn.
Swearing, Viv rushed to Bryony’s side, wrapping her arms around her friend’s slender shoulders, softly whispering to her. Viv looked up, her eyes full of silent questions, but I looked away, unable to face her suspecting gaze. My face pinched as I quietly cursed myself for keeping the truth from her.
I felt Viv’s piercing stare, even while she gently guided Bryony to a chair. Giving Bryony a small kiss on her forehead, Viv strode past me, pulling me into the far corner of the hut. “What really happened?” she whispered, those cool gray eyes slicing through me.
“Has Orin returned?” I asked, ignoring her narrowed eyes, her hesitation. She shook her head, sighing. “Have him come to me the moment he does. There’s much we need to discuss.”
Viv’s lips thinned and I stepped close to Bryony. Kneeling, I took her hands in mine, giving them a small squeeze. “I’ll find out who did this.”
Bryony nodded, heavy tears streaking down her face. Standing, I gave Viv a slight nod and left the hut.
I walked through the camp to the abandoned manor, its stones covered in ivy and flowering vines. I made my way to the council room, quickly changing out of my wet clothes into a fresh set Viv stored for me in the armoire. After noticing me spending most of my time here, studying over maps and plans, she grew tired of seeing me in the same clothes day after day, insisting that I always keep fresh clothing to change into. She never had children of her own, but that never stopped her from treating every person in the camp as they were, and they loved her for it, no matter how much she nagged and harped on us.
Slipping the shirt over my head, I stopped and looked into the mirror, checking the spot on my side. I frowned at the purple welt. Samian had told me Sybil didn’t know how to fight, but the truth of it surprised me. For her safety, that would need to change, but I couldn’t fight against the smile curving my lips at the memory of her face brightening with the idea to pinch me.
It was something I’d never seen before, though I wouldn’t say it was effective. While the shock made me hesitate, it just edged my already short temper to its breaking point.
A knock at the door pulled me out of my memory and I grunted a clipped,come in. The door swung open as Orin and Viv hastily filed into the room. Viv pulled out a chair for a breathless Orin, his hair disheveled from the wind, covered head to toe in dirt. My brows knitted at the wild look in his golden eyes.
“What happened?” I asked, keeping my tone careful.
“It was a disaster, Kieran,” Orin breathed heavily. “Lowbrook is in a complete uproar.”
Viv’s eyes flicked to mine, her face grim. I tapped a finger on the table, fighting to keep calm, but Orin hesitated when the air grew heavy. I clenched my jaw, nodding for Orin to continue when the door slammed open. I stood, tension gathering in my shoulders, when Samian froze in the doorway. His hands were clenched by his side, his body trembling, an unsettling, crazed look gleaming in those blue and green eyes of his.
