Posey
Aris’s lips are supple and warm–softer than I expected. I’m not sure what I anticipated, but it wasn’t… this.
His mouth presses to mine–tender, soft, innocent. His hand remains on my cheek, holding me in place as he slowly eases the pressure and angles away ever so slightly. The distance is unbearable, like he’s taken the very breath from my lungs.
I realize I’ve pinned my eyes closed, holding my breath, so I open them, looking up at him in disbelief. His fingers curl around the back of my neck, and he takes a shallow breath, his eyes searching mine before he presses our foreheads together, our mouths only centimeters apart.
My stomach tumbles, my body floods with warmth like a sudden fever, and my heart feels like it's about to race out of my chest.
“That’s what it feels like,” he whispers, his thumb smoothing over my cheekbone.
“Everytime?”
His eyes meet mine and hold, darkening several shades until they resemble raw iron. He leans forward, our lips nearly touching again. My lips part, chasing his by instinct. He inhales deeply and groans, dropping his hand and making a tight fist as he rises.
Reality hits me like a bucket of ice being dumped over my head.
“I–”
“No,” he says with effort, cutting me off with a quick but firm gesture of his hand.
“I’m sorry–”
“No,” he repeats, running his fingers through his hair. He smiles, but it’s tight. “No, don’t apologize. Posey, I’m drunk. Shit faced. I shouldn’t have–I probably shouldn’t have kissed you.”
“I–I won’t tell Roman if that's what you’re–”
Aris raises his brows and looks at me like I’ve just slapped him upside the head. “Roman? You’re thinking about Roman right now?”
“Your friend and my brother?”
“I know who he is.” His voice is suddenly caustic. It catches me off guard. I’ve never heard him use such ice in his tone.
A strange sense of unease cloaks the room. I suffocate, turning from Aris so he can’t see the look on my face as rejection sweeps through me, numbing me to the bone.
“I–” He pauses then hisses out a breath before abruptly walking out of the room, leaving the door wide open. I hear his bedroom door close down the hallway, and the house falls silent while I sit on the edge of the bed, pressing my fingers to my lower lip.
Reeling.
***
Morning sunlight drifts through the open windows in the kitchen. The house is as quiet as the night before while I sip my coffee and stare at the glassy reflection of the lake, at the family of ducks bobbing on the mirrored surface. I smile at one of the baby ducks beneath the water, and the mother squawks in annoyance when it falls behind.
My spine straightens, however, when I hear footsteps behind me–a familiar tread that echoed in my dreams last night.
I can feel Aris’s gaze sweeping over my body from head to toe before he enters the room. I’m leaning against the kitchen island when he moves to my side, reaching over my head to where the coffee mugs are neatly stacked on a shelf.
“Good morning.”
“Morning.” My throat feels impossibly tight when his arm brushes mine.
“I’m going on a walk. I’d like you to come with me,” he says in a near whisper. His tone, however, edges on commanding as his silver eyes meet mine in the bright glare of the morning sun. “We need to talk.”
“Okay.”
A rough, choking sob shudders from the hallway. We both freeze, and Aris slowly turns toward the archway leading off the kitchen. When another rattling sigh and the sound of suitcase wheels bumping over his waxed wood floors scurries toward us, he moves, but I grab his arm. Willow passes the archway hauling her suitcase and moves out of sight again.
The kitchen is a blur of coffee scented air and sunlight. I sprint in Willow’s directly, catching a single glimpse of her undone state as she slips through the front door.
“Willow!” I chase her down, the white gravel biting into my bare feet, but she’s already at her car, roughly tossing her suitcase into the backseat. I glance behind us, seeing Aris standing in the shadow of the front porch, his eyes shining a bright silver in the dim light, and when I pivot to face my friend, I see her tears. “What’s wrong? What are you doing?”
She wipes her tears and steps toward the driver’s side door, but I step in her way. “I’m fine,” she grinds out, but her voice cracks. I’ve never seen her cry before. She’s… eternally happy and optimistic, always has been. Even in the worst situations, she’s sunshine and rainbows.
Now, she looks sullen and gray in a matching terrycloth lounge set in a soft butter yellow. Her normally perfect hair is pulled tight away from her face in a lopsided bun on the top of her head, straight strands falling loose behind her ears, and she’s not wearing a lick of makeup.
Her eyes are bloodshot from crying.
“Willow?” I breathe, reaching to take her by the arms, but she steps out of my touch.
A cold, creeping presence fills the driveway, and I turn back to the porch. Roman stands in the shadows looking just as undone, shirtless. Then I see his eyes as he looks at Willow…
I grab her arm and move her to the back of her car. “What happened?”
“I’m fine. Everything is just fine,” she replies hoarsely, trying to smile, but she looks more like she’s in serious pain.
I look her over for injuries. She snaps her hands back, shaking her head.
“I’m catching the midday ferry back to the capital and then traveling to the port.”
“The port? Of Avalon? What are you talking about? You’re going to Tarsian next.” The main port of Veiled Valley expands in my mind. From Veiled Valley in the west, it’s only a few days' journey by boat to the Kingdom of Maatua and a few days more to Crescent Falls. It’s the opposite direction of where she’s supposed to be going. “Willow?”
She’s looking up at the porch.
At Roman.
“I’m ready to go home. I’ve seen and done enough.”
Willow leaps into action, skirting around me before I can catch her, and yanks open her car door. I have to leap out of her way when she revs the engine and peels out of the driveway in a tight circle, spraying gravel, and disappears in a flash of baby blue.
My heart rate soars. I slowly turn to the porch, to my brother. “What have you done?”
“Go inside,” Roman sneers. “This doesn’t involve you.”
Aris whips in his direction, but I’m already stalking across the driveway toward my brother, hackles raised, my vision blurred red with rage. “What did you do to her? Roman?”
He licks his lip, glancing between me and Aris. “Nothing. Nothing that concerns you!”
Aris grabs Roman’s arm and pulls him inside so aggressively my brother nearly trips over the doormat. I chase after them through the foyer and down the hallway, but when I reach the kitchen, Aris is shoving Roman through the patio door and into the backyard.
“Aris.” His name leaves my lips in a pitched exhale. He pauses with his hand on the door. Behind him, Roman walks out onto the grass, repeatedly running his fingers through his hair, pacing.
“Call her and make sure she’s okay. I’ll call the port authority and ensure she has a suite on whatever ferries are departing from Avalon tonight. She’ll have a ticket waiting for her when she gets there.” He steps into the sunlight and shuts the door firmly behind him. He approaches Roman, and my brother turns, yelling something muffled by the glass windows next to the kitchen table.
My heart aches. I turn from the scene and hurry upstairs to my room, out of breath by the time I reach the side table where my phone is resting on its charger.
Willow doesn’t answer. Not the first, second, or third time I call. But on the fourth, half an hour after she tore off the property like her life depended on it, her voice radiates through the phone, broken but steadier than before.
“Posey.” She takes a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I took off like that. I’m okay. I want you to know that.” The call fizzles. I hiss a curse when I pull the phone away from my ear and see the single damning bar of service.
“What the hell is going on? Did Roman do something to you?”
She sighs deeply. In the background, I hear faint music and the hum of her engine. She’s driving. Driving to the small ferry port that will take her across the river back to the capital of Veiled Valley.
“He… hurt me. It’s a long story.”
I sit on the edge of my bed. A shadow darkens the doorway, and I know it’s Aris before looking up. I ignore him, asking, “Can you tell me?”
“It’s really nothing. I slept with him.” She laughs, but it’s bittersweet. “Finally checked a guy from Veiled Valley off my list. I need to go, okay? I’ll come visit when you’re in Moonrise, okay? You’re gonna get into the seminary, I know it. You don’t even have to study, Posey. They’d be lucky to have you.” Her words fade as the connection shudders.
“Willow?”
The call drops. I stare blankly at my phone for several seconds before looking up at Aris. “What happened? Where’s Roman?”
“I sent him out to shift, to burn off his hangover and come back to his senses. He won’t be back until nightfall, and even then, I think after our conversation he might take me up on his offer to stay at one of the hotels a few towns over. For a few days, at least.”
“Why?” I rise, nervous, not liking the conflicting look behind Aris’s eyes.
“I want him to keep his distance from you for a little while, honestly. He’s not thinking straight.” Aris moves deeper into the room, running his fingertips over my dresser, picking up a hairbrush and putting it down again. “Is Willow okay?”
“I don’t know. What happened? Did he–did hurt her? I don’t believe her.”
Aris meets my gaze. “No.”
“Then what–”
“About that walk,” he says, cutting me off. “Get dressed. We’ll be gone for a while.”
He starts to turn to leave, but I step in his way. His chest rises and falls deeply, like he hasn’t taken a full breath since all of this began. “Willow is my friend, and I’ve never seen her so upset. If you know something… please, Aris. You have to tell me.”
“I need a moment to process what he told me.” His expression is apologetic but firm. “We’ll talk once we’ve both had more coffee and are out of this house. Tate and Miles will be waking up soon, and I’d rather not be forced to rope them into this, too. It’s none of their business.”
He looks down at me, searching my gaze, likely waiting for me to argue. I have a feeling he’d tell me right now if I really pushed the subject, but he looks… tired. Worn thin.
When his eyes drop to my lips and hold for a few seconds longer than they should, I blink and turn from him to hide the heat painting my cheeks pink in the glare of morning sunlight warming the room… or maybe that’s just my body reacting like it did last night. I’m so stupid. There’s no way he’s thinking the same way about me.
“Okay. I’ll get dressed.”
“I'll make coffee to go. Do you still take yours without sugar?”
I nod, and he wordlessly leaves, closing the door behind him. The silence that follows is too much.
Twenty minutes later, I’m standing in the kitchen accepting a to-go mug from him, both of us dressed for the day. My sundress is thin but not thin enough to stop the raw burn of the unrelenting sun. It doesn’t matter. It's going to be another hot day, I can already tell. Aris tilts his head toward the backyard, and I follow, sliding my feet into my shoes.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere private. There’re a few things I want to discuss with you.”
“Roman and Willow?”
He pauses where the grass merges with the tree line and a faint, barely used wolf trail. “Yes. And something else.”