Page 9 of Stolen Fates
She took comfort from the way his thumb traced circles on the back of her hand. “I understand. With my upcoming wedding, it was easier to keep our distance.”
For days, she’d buried her emotions, focusing on the remaining time with her family instead. However, she couldn’t keep lying to herself. The memory of their shared kiss lingered in her thoughts, especially in the quiet of the night.
Scylas’ fingers touched the side of her face, drawing her to him. When she met his golden brown eyes, the raw vulnerability within them made her pulse quicken.
“I didn’t know how to say goodbye,” he murmured.
Her heart stuttered. “Perhaps you won’t have to.”
Without warning, Alena returned and halted at their intimate proximity, her face flushing as red as her hair.
Scylas pulled away, clearing his throat. “I’d better go. Father will be waiting for me. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Katell gave him a small smile. “Could you find Ley for me?”
He nodded and squeezed her hand in reassurance before leaving.
Alena turned to her with big, green eyes, her teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. “Octavia saw the suitors and said yours scared her.”
Remembering the awful encounter, Katell’s chest tightened. “He scared me, too.”
Sniffling, Alena sank onto the bed and wrapped her arms around her in a tight embrace.
“I’m fine, little star.” But Katell’s voice shook, and her hands trembled once more in her lap. “Father—Father will take care of it.”
Scylas never came back, but since he’d been in charge of the feast preparations with the other men of the camp, Katell wasn’t surprised. When their father eventually returned in the evening, Alena was already fast asleep. Muffled sounds of revelry and music from the central square filtered through the air.
Katell greeted her father and took his stitched hemp cloak from his hands. “Am I in trouble?”
Although he looked exhausted and burdened by the day’s events, he still smiled at her and cupped her cheek. Her father’s hand was warm and comforting, nothing like that of her suitor.
“No,” he said at last, tucking a few rebel strands of hair back into her braid. “The elders tried to insist, but the man rejected you and I never would have let a brute such as him have my daughter. I don’t know what the elders were thinking. They’re not happy with us and camp gossip will follow you for some time, but at least the marriage was called off.”
Relief flooded Katell’s veins. Stars be praised! She’d had half a mind to grab Alena and run away as she’d suggested if the elders had insisted that the marriage go forth.
“What about the suitor?”
Her father went to sit by the fire and picked up the bowl of soup Katell had left out for him with some bread. “He was a vile man, hurling insults around, but Elder Ignatius managed to appease his anger.”
She scowled. “How?”
If anyone could negotiate with a heartless brute, it was Elder Ignatius, but she didn’t trust Scylas’ grandfather one bit. She was sure he would have forced her to marry the suitor if the man hadn’t already rejected her.
“Apparently, they found him another bride. Demetrius told me during the feast.” Her father swallowed a few spoonfuls of soup and exhaled a breath. “Poor girl.”
Katell sank to the rug before the fire and hugged her knees to her chest. She’d never thought refusing her suitor would condemn another girl to be married to him. The man’s gifts must have been enough to entice one of the other families of Camp Bessi—no doubt one of the poorer ones.
“Do you know who it is?”
Damocles shook his head. “No. We’ll find out tomorrow, I suppose.” When his eyes met hers, he pressed his lips into a thin line. “Don’t worry yourself about it now. What’s done is done. Go to sleep and whatever happens, we’ll handle it in the morning.”
Katell did as she was told and slipped under the furs beside her sister with a heavy feeling in her heart. Though she might not have been familiar with all the girls of Camp Bessi, guilt racked her mind. Her selfishness had cost another girl’s happiness.
The next morning, it was Scylas who broke the news to them.
Katell was outside the tent, having just trekked back from the stream with two buckets of water when Scylas’ sandy-coloured mop of hair appeared.
“Kat!”
