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Authors: Chelsea Fine

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

Avow (11 page)

BOOK: Avow
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A loud thud sounded against the door and they both stilled.

Tristan slowly pulled his mouth away from hers and looked at the closed door as if it were a great enemy.

Loud, drunk singing came from the other side of the door as, what Scarlet assumed was, a drunken guest stumbled his way down the hall, knocking into walls and other closed doors with more thuds. His off-pitch song carried on without shame, interrupted only the occasional hiccup.

A door across the hall squeaked open and a cranky voice yelled, “Would you shut up?”

The drunkard sang louder and Scarlet couldn’t help but whisper-laugh at the nonsense in the hallway, Tristan joining in with her.

“Shut up!” The neighbor squawked.

More hiccups, followed by a horrendously loud encore, and the cranky neighbor slammed his door.

Scarlet shifted, unintentionally loosing herself from Tristan’s warm arms as they tapered their laughter and listened to the drunkard’s song fade down the hall.

Then silence.

Their eyes met and Scarlet swallowed. “I should probably get back to my room.”

He ran a hand over his head and nodded. “Yes. Of course.” He moved to open the door, then stopped. “Oh. I almost forgot.”

He retrieved a small object from the table beside his bed and set it in her palm, his dimples sinking into his cheeks as he grinned
.

Scarlet looked down at her mother’s brooch and blinked in surprise, her breath catching in her throat. “Oh, Tristan. How did you…?”

“After Nathaniel said you might someday return, I went to your room at the castle and found it for you.”

“And you kept it all this time?” She looked up at him in awe.

He nodded. “I wanted you to have a piece of your family.”

Scarlet kissed him, passionately and fully, as his arms gently wrapped around her. He’d hoped for her return. He’d kept a piece of her mother for her.

He’d loved her for all these years, even
through
death and uncertainty.

She was completely his.

 

CHAPTER 9

 

Every nerve in Tristan’s body was on edge as he stared at Nathaniel. “What do you mean we cannot touch?”

“I did not say you
cannot
touch. I said you
should
not
touch. Not until we understand how your blood affects Scarlet or find a way to undo the blood connection between you two.”

They had left the inn that morning and all come back to Nathaniel’s estate when he’d insisted he needed to research Scarlet’s heart condition. And now Tristan stood in Nathaniel’s library and watched
him comb
through old books.

“It seems your immortal blood is straining Scarlet’s heart.” Nathaniel closed the book in front of him and moved on to another.

“Yes, but what does that mean?” Tristan said. “Is she sick? Is she weak?”

“I don’t
know
.
I’
m not a doctor. But that’s not a bad idea. I could certainly do a better job than that mumbling fellow you pinned against the wall the other day.” He smiled.

“Would you please focus, Nathaniel. How much danger is Scarlet in?”

He sighed. “I could be wrong. Her strained heartbeat might be nothing at all. But if I am right, your immortal blood might make her very ill. Perhaps even bring her death.”

Tristan’s stomach dropped as he whispered, “My blood might kill her?”

“Possibly. Which is why we must find a way to break the blood connection between the two of you—”

“The fountain potion.” Tristan was desperate. “That blue water you had—you said it negates immortal blood. If we were to have Scarlet drink some, would my immortal blood cease to thrive inside her chest?”

“Yes. And I’ve already thought of that. But that vial was stolen years ago.”

“Dammit!” Tristan began to pace. “Then we must find a magic peddler with more fountain water.”

Nathaniel nodded. “I will start asking around.”

“Does Scarlet know that our connection may be…harmful?”

“I told her just before you came in. She did not take it…well.”

Tristan turned to go find Scarlet, who was probably cursing herself into a fit somewhere.

“But until we find a cure,” Nathaniel’s voice stopped Tristan at the door, “or at least until we know how strong your blood connection is, you two should not touch. At all.”

 

***************

 

Walking through the leaf-littered woodland behind the house, Scarlet let the sour mood she’d been biting back for the past few hours sink in. Not touching Tristan for an indefinite amount of time was preposterous, but not having a cure for his immortal blood—not having a way to stay alive—was terrifying.

Hearing a twig snap, she turned to see Tristan coming up behind her, a dagger in each hand and a sympathetic look on his face.

Dryly, she said, “Better stay back, Hunter. I am apparently at the mercy of your immortal blood.”

“If it helps, I did not know I was immortal until after you died. It’s not as if I was keeping a great secret from you and allowed this to happen on purpose.”

He stood a generous distance from her, his pleasant countenance an odd contrast to her bitter heart.

“So you jumped in front of an arrow assuming you would die in my place?”

“I did.”

Her insides bubbled at his lack of self-preservation. “I do not wish for you to die for me. Ever.”

He smiled. “I make no promises.”

“Do not joke.” Her veins heated. “I thought you were dead once before, Tristan, and it was hell. And then you suddenly reappeared on my wedding day only to sacrifice your life—“

“You’re angry with me?” He furrowed his brow.

“Yes!”

Standing apart from him in the forest, in all the confusion of her new life, she grew furious. Furious with Tristan. Furious with all she’d suffered in her last life. Furious that her current life had not yet proved to be any less tragic.

“Why?”

“Because you gave me away!” she shouted, her fury turning into hurt. “You handed me off to Gabriel like I’m some plaything of yours and then you just disappeared.”

Wind rustled the trees around them as a muscle flexed in Tristan’s jaw. “I was trying to keep you safe.”

She scoffed.

“What was I supposed to do?” His green eyes flashed defensively as he dropped the daggers to the ground and took a step forward. “Let you get captured by the earl? Let you be harmed by his men? Was I supposed to
let
you die?”

Scarlet threw her hands up. “You certainly weren’t supposed to give me to your brother and fake your death!”

“I wasn’t
giving
you to him, I was protecting you! And I had no choice but to fake my death—there was no other way out. You can’t be angry with me for wanting to return to you.”

“I’m not angry that you returned. I’m angry because I thought you were dead!” Her eyes stung. “I thought you were dead, Tristan. And I was barely alive—barely breathing! I was half a soul and I wanted to die. I lost my home. I lost my mother. And then I lost you.” Her voice cracked as she thought back to the impossible sorrow she’d suffered without him. She shook her head and repeated, “I thought you were dead.”

For several moments, neither of them spoke. The forest air filled with wind and leaves and singing birds, but no words. Tristan stared at her with sadness in his
eyes
and rubbed a hand over his mouth.

“I’m sorry I ever let you believe I was dead,” he said quietly. “And I’m sorry for all you lost.” He swallowed. “I swear I was only trying to protect you.”

Scarlet sighed, her anger and pain immediately gone with his words. “I know you were.”  She blew air through her lips. “I’m just a mess.”

He smiled. “I like messes.”

Not yet ready to be in a good mood, she glared at him. “You don’t understand. Everything is a mess.” She started listing off her woes. “I’m lost and confused and I don’t know where I belong—or if I belong—anywhere. And now I might die, which is bloody perfect. I’m scared and angry and frustrated and agh!”

He stepped forward as if to embrace her, but stopped short.

“And you and I can’t even touch!” Scarlet groaned, tossing her head back in defeat. “My life is a complete disaster.”

He stared at her for a moment, a small smile playing at his lips.

“What?” she snapped.

“Are you finished?”

“No.” She glowered at him, desperately searching for something else to complain about. Finding nothing, she rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

Taking a deep breath he stepped closer to her and gave her a reassuring look. “We will find you a cure, this I promise you. It may take time, but I will do anything to keep you healthy. A wise monk once told me there is no victory without a battle.” He paused. “So we shall battle to find you a cure until we are victorious. And as far as not touching each other…” He shrugged. “Who cares? We can be together without touching. In fact,” he grinned as he bent to retrieve the daggers from the ground, “I have a no-touching plan.”

Scarlet eyed him skeptically. “A no-touching dagger plan?”

“Yes. It’s brilliant.” He handed her one of the blades, his eyes brightening. “We are going to spar. Since the point of weapon sparing is to avoid the other person, it’s safe for us to interact this way—unless of course one of us loses an appendage.”

“Well, naturally.” Scarlet turned the dagger over in her hand.

He leaned into her and his expression became very sincere. “And as far as where you belong…” He put a hand over his heart. “Right here. Always. In life and death and everything in between.” He paused. “Never question it.” 

Never had a more peaceful feeling flooded Scarlet’s heart than at that moment.

He stepped back, his good mood lighting up his face again. “Let’s begin, shall we?” He weighed the knife in his hand. “I’m sure your dagger skills have grown rusty in your years away, so I’ll go easy on you.”

“Rusty?” She threw her dagger, handle first, into the tree beyond Tristan, pegging two overhanging leaves to the bark.

He smiled. “I stand corrected.”

Scarlet couldn’t help but smile back. She did not belong to anyone, but she belonged
with
Tristan.
She was home.

 

CHAPTER 10

 

Six months later

 

Tristan glared at Scarlet. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“I’m not doing it wrong,” she bit out. “I’m doing it differently.”

They both had been irritable all morning, snapping at one another and bickering. Tristan was starting to think that sparring with sharp knives might not have been a wise choice today. Especially since Scarlet—despite her stubbornness to learn new defense tactics—was incredibly talented.

With his dagger raised, Tristan moved through the trees and swung down—precise in his movement so as not to hurt her—and waited for her to block him correctly. She didn’t.

He rolled his eyes. “Would you at least
try
to learn?”

She jabbed at him again. “I’ll try learning as soon as you try not being jealous.”

And there it was. The reason for all their morning animosity.

Tristan had made the mistake of telling Scarlet how Gabriel was cursed to be without love outside of her. And Scarlet’s emotions had gone wild in sympathy, anger, and love.

She loved Gabriel.

It wasn’t the same kind of love she felt for Tristan, entangled in devotion and desire and absolute resolve, but it was love nonetheless. And Tristan hadn’t taken it well.

He blocked her incoming dagger with his own.

“I’m not jealous.” He was a little jealous.

“Ha.” Scarlet thrust her dagger at him again. “You practically accused me of being unfaithful with my emotions.”

He blocked her blade and grimaced at her words. “Right. Well. It’s difficult to feel you care for someone other than me.”

“Then stop feeling me.” She swiped at him.

“I can’t turn it off—ugh. Quit trying to stab me, woman.” He knocked the dagger out of her hand then threw his own weapon on the ground
.

They stared at one another.

“You’re being ridiculous, Tristan I love you. Not Gabriel.
You
.”

“Yet you won’t marry me.”

Months ago, he had suggested they resume their marriage plans, but Scarlet refused. That, along with her emotions for Gabriel, had Tristan feeling a bit crushed.

She rolled her eyes.

He said, “I was good enough for you to wed in your last life, but somehow I’m no longer fit to be your husband?”

She thrust out angry arms. “Fine! Let’s get married! Let’s dance at our wedding and sleep by
each others’
sides and have children and live happily ever after.” She dropped her arms. “We can’t have those things, Tristan. And if we don’t find a cure, I may die. I will not wed you only to die and leave you bound to me for hundreds of years until I return. I will not trap you into a lonely commitment like that.”

BOOK: Avow
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