Page 24 of Elegy of Twilight
“I promise I will speak with you. Just let me get you to safety.”
Safety, as though the creatures of the night would descend upon us at any moment. I squirmed. “I can walk.”
He set me down at the damp entrance of a cave and took my hand. I squeezed his wet hand and realized that given the choice between the abbey andbeing out here with him, in the storm, walking into the bleak darkness of the unknown, I’d chosen him instead of my warm, secure bed. And that thought worried me.
The tunnels were so dark I wasn’t sure how Titus knew the way, but eventually, we emerged outside, back into the rain, which had slowed to a steady downpour. Titus led me through the dark, uphill, I thought, it until we burst inside a door, and he released me.
“Stay there,” he said.
I stood still, blinking raindrops off my eyelashes, attempting to see in the utter blackness. My dress was soaked to my skin, and despite the fact that it was mid-summer, I shivered. A scratching sound came, then a flame as Titus lit a fire. It started smoking, but it was enough to see.
We were in a tiny one-room cottage. Rich rugs covered the stone floor, a stove was tucked into a corner, and Titus moved to it next, lighting it. A fireplace covered an entire wall with bright stones. Some had runes carved into them, and they glinted as the firelight grew brighter.
An odd sensation washed over me as I studied those runes, my gaze going from them to my arms, noting the similarities. I pivoted away, but theimage of the runes burned into the back of my mind.
Plants grew out of the wall, and ivy framed the edges as though the wildlife sought to reclaim the hut. Dried plants hung from the rafters: florals and herbs, giving off a smokey, herby scent. A bed had been pushed into a corner, and a stack of papers and scrolls lay scattered on the floor beside it, traces of ink appearing in the low light.
I clenched and unclenched my fists, fighting my nerves. Folding my arms around my body, I bit my lip and glanced at Titus, who was half out of his clothes.
“Undress,” he said curtly.
My sodden dress was dripping on the carpet. This was not about seduction but warmth and not getting sick. I tugged the dress over my head and held it in front of me as I crossed the floor to the fireplace.
Titus was fully naked now; his clothes laid out on the stones to dry. He wrapped a blanket around my shoulders and took the dress from me, his eyes tracking downward before I had a chance to snatch the cloth around my bare flesh.
A rough chuckle left his lips. “Still shy after all we’ve done?”
He had a point, but I did not care to comment on it.
“Sit,” he said, gesturing to the rugs that surrounded the fireplace.
He sat down himself, a blanket over his shoulders, and he held out his hands to the dancing flames.
I sat down beside him. “What is this place? Why did you bring me here instead of your home in the mountainside?”
His jaw tightened. “You know the legend of vampires and how they cannot cross the threshold of a house unless invited?”
“Yes, that’s the only reason so many have stayed. They feel safe at night, knowing that none of the monsters can enter. Tell me, that legend is true, isn’t it?”
“It is, and it isn’t. There are loopholes associated with it. This home was forsaken by its owner, and now it’s mine. When I want to be alone, truly alone, I come here.”
“It’s lovely.”
His mouth crooked up, and he tilted his head at me. “Are you just saying that to appease me?”
“No.” I shook my head, and something within me relaxed. “It is lovely. I grew up in the abbey and haveseldom had the opportunity to be invited into another’s home. The ones I have seen had floors made of wood or dirt with rushes atop them, while the wealthier ones had stones. Someone wealthy must have lived here. Or at least used it when they wanted some solitude up here.”
“It was once the home of a hunter. I found dried bear skins and antlers and arrows when I took it over and embellished with with my own decorations. This is where I come to write and for solitude.”
“Then the other place is?” I trailed off, hoping he would finish my sentence and satisfy my curiosity.
“It’s like I’m living a double life, the me that lives under the mountain and then the me that comes here to remember who I am outside of the curse.”
This was taking too long, although I was curious about the curse too. “Who was that other man?”
Titus frowned. “What did he say to you?”
“He was warning me about you, that you’re not who I think you are and that. . .”
