Page 105 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
She shivered then, rolling off him and curling into his side, pulling his shirt around her.
“Are you cold?” he asked, tugging the discarded fur comforter over them.
Goosebumps pebbled her flesh but she shook her head, her cheek resting against his chest. “Pleasantly warm.”
Outside, the sun was already sinking behind a dense layer of clouds, its fading rays cutting between the gray, pillow-like formations. They drifted across the sky, low and heavy, a promise of snow.
He stroked her hair with one hand, marveling at the way the strands slid through his fingers like silk. It was too easy to enjoy this, to like the way she was sprawled across him, to imagine this was how it would always be between them. He could get used to spending hours with her in bed, locked away from the rest of the world, pretending no one else even existed. For over half a century, Atlas had wanted Everinne. He’d pined for her. Ached for her. Longed for her. The moment Veros brought her to the palace, saving her from that village that was devoured by forest and night, Atlas had known she was destined for him. Now, here she was with only a handful of sunsets left until they vowed their lives to each other, and he couldn’t help feeling that it was all a mistake. Like she was sand slipping through his fingers and no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be able to hold on to her, or their bond, forever.
A breath shuddered out of Everinne and when she spoke, her words lured him back to the present, to all the unknowns they had yet to face. “I had just finished my performance at the Mystic Obscura, and when I went to leave for the night, to come back here, Jarek was there. He…”
Atlas’s lungs pinched tight.
“He, what?” he forced out, holding back the bite of rage in his tone.
“He made me go with him to an afterparty in the Marzena. But it was wrong, the whole night seemed off somehow. At the Mystic Obscura, the audience was loud and unruly, nothing at all like it’s been other nights when I’ve danced.” She laid her hands flat against his chest, resting her chin there to look up at him.“And the Marzena…I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s odd, and peculiar, and?—”
“No.” He wasn’t going to let her finish that sentence. “There is nothing thrilling or interesting about the Marzena, Ever. It’s dangerous.”
Which was something she always craved, despite her better judgment.
“I know it’s dangerous. Or at least, I realized that quickly enough.” Her teeth snagged on her bottom lip, gnawing slightly. When her turquoise eyes lifted to his face, they were shadowed with worry. “Atlas, I only had one drink. But it must have been strong because I can barely remember anything else.”
Again, his blood churned, boiling at the memory of her limp and unconscious in the guard’s arms. He cupped her cheek, determined to keep his touch gentle, even though he wanted to rip out Jarek’s throat with his bare hands.
“He drugged you, Everinne.” His voice was rough, like he’d swallowed a blade of ice, and he couldn’t stand the way her eyes widened in shock. “That’s why you can’t remember. You weren’t drunk. You were drugged.”
She scrambled to a sitting position in the bed, tucking her legs under her and fastening his shirt around her in an effort to conceal her body, as though the truth of last night had somehow left her more exposed, more vulnerable, than she realized. “Why would he drug me?”
Atlas wasn’t going to answer that question. No fucking way. Because he already knew where his mind went, and it involved dark alleys, muffled screams, and the worst kind of assault. He shifted, propping himself up against the headboard of the bed. This was the sort of conversation he didn’t want to have with her, the kind he’d dreaded since she started her downward spiral into the world of nightlife highs filled with easy alcohol and mindless sex.
“Jarek didn’t just drug you.” He nodded toward her left shoulder, where his shirt hung low to reveal her lightly tanned skin and the faint outline of a skull scarred her flesh. “He marked you.”
Atlas’s jaw popped.
He should have been the one to mark her. To brand her. Whether with his teeth, his hands, or his tongue, it made no difference. He wanted everyone to know she belonged to him. His gaze slid to the wolf tattooed across his forearm, to the vine of blood roses swirling around her wrist, and an idea took form in the back of his mind.
“What the fuck is his problem? First he drugged me, then he stamped my shoulder with his ring.” Everinne ran her finger along the skull and a scowl marred her brow. “I’m going to kill him for this.”
Atlas’s lips twitched.
There was the Everinne he knew and loved.
Loved.
A lump of unwanted emotion swelled in the back of his throat, and he swallowed it down. He couldn’t love her, not really. Her heart was too wild. Her affection was too fleeting. It was one thing to be bonded, to be fated, but love could not be gained from compulsion. It couldn’t be coerced or demanded. It had to be earned, given freely and unconditionally. As far as Atlas knew, Everinne had only loved once in her life—the fae hunter, Callum—and in the end, she’d killed him. After that, she’d closed off her heart to anyone else. It was like an iron fortress, impenetrable from the outside, frozen on the inside.
He knew, because he’d seen it. He’d witnessed it that day he’d brought her back from the chaotic destruction of her own mind.
“There was someone else,” she mumbled, fiddling with the open buttons, like she was trying to grasp pieces of her memory. “Someone recognized me. A vampire.”
Atlas nodded, training his gaze on her face, refusing to look where the swell of her breasts strained against the white linen of his shirt. He cleared his throat. “Davorin.”
He would have to thank the vampire. Truth be told, if Davorin hadn’t found Everinne and returned her to the palace, there was no way of knowing what Jarek would have done to her. Once Atlas offered his gratitude, then he would ask Davorin what exactly he was doing in the Marzena, given the current climate.
“Yes. Davorin.” Everinne tugged his shirt back over her shoulder, then tilted her head so her tumble of dark hair cascaded around her. “I asked for his help. But after that…” Her eyes were vacant for a moment, empty, and she shook her head once. “There’s nothing after that. Until now. Until you.”
“It doesn’t matter.” He wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his lap, but he knew if he tried, somehow that would only drive her further away from him. “You’re safe now.”
