Drake turned to leave, and Ashlyn watched him, her heart in her throat. They hadn’t really talked since that day in her father’s house, and they hadn’t been alone for even a moment in the last few days. She was still unsure of how to act around him, and whether or not she’d be making a total ass of herself if she confessed to what she was feeling.
He hesitated in the doorway, and she held her breath.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low. A gust of cherry blossom-scented wind blew through the room, billowing his coat and stirring the long strands of his hair.
“For what?”
“For what you said about me- about resist.” His tone was bitter with self-loathing.
“I trust you, Drake.” It was a simple declaration, but she could see him flinch when she said it, and she ached to reach out to him, comfort him. “I know you won’t hurt me.”
He turned then, scarlet eyes glowing in the lamplight. “You don’t know that, Ashlyn.”
“Yes, I do.”
Drake did not respond, looking saddened, as though he were contemplating her words.
Now or never, Ashlyn thought, and took a deep breath, reminding herself that this might well be the last time she ever spoke with Drake. “I’m actually glad…that I get a chance to talk to you now, before we leave,” she said. He didn’t answer, but she rushed on, “What you said the other day, and, well, what you did the other day. That meant a lot to me. I don’t know if I would have made it through that day without you.”
He was absolutely still, his softly rustling coat the only movement in the room. Frozen with terror over actually discussing what had taken place, probably, and Ashlyn couldn’t blame him. She was feeling pretty scared herself.
“Losing a loved one can be devastating,” he stated finally. “I understand.”
She ran her tongue over her lower lip, debating about how to continue- and whether she really should.
“I wanted to ask you something,” she said, crossing the room. Reaching past him, she slid the door shut, trying very hard not to notice the pleasing scent of his skin as she leaned close to him. “Don’t freak out, okay? I’m not trying to put you on the spot here. But I need to know.”
His expression was pained as he moved to face her. “Ashlyn-“
“No, Drake, please. Just let me finish,” she interrupted. “I know I’m just a kid, I know I can be a brat and I know there are thirty years and a serious gap in maturity between us. But there’s something else, too. I know there is. For a long time I thought I was alone, just some dumb kid with a crush, but I…I know you feel something too, even if it’s just a mild sense of irritation because I won’t leave you alone.” She smiled weakly, knowing it was a lame attempt at a joke. “But I’m pretty sure it’s something more than that.”
When Drake didn’t respond, she frowned, trying to think of something else. “You said yourself that I’ve changed,” she reminded him. “You said you couldn’t forget me.”
“I can’t,” he said.
She reached out and touched his arm tentatively. “See, there must be something-“
“No, Ashlyn, I can’t.” He jerked away, out of reach. “I know what you want, and I can’t do that. I can’t be that. Don’t- please don’t ask me to try.”
Oh.
She stopped for a moment, letting that sink in.
It had been a strange relationship from the beginning- awkward and stilted, but for some reason Ashlyn had never actually pictured what might happen when she’d told Drake about her feelings. She’d certainly never imagined that he would end the conversation almost before it began.
So this is what real rejection feels like.
If Ashlyn thought her heart had been chipped before, when she’d seen him with Trace at the North Camp Inn, then she was certain it was cracking now.
Her first instinct was to explode- how dare he do this to her again, convince her to trust him, make her fall for him all over again, only to reject her outright? Whatever dignity she’d maintained by keeping her feelings secret for the last three years was gone now, completely obliterated.
But as quickly as her anger had sparked, it faded, replaced by the familiar ache that had been lingering in her heart ever since she’d realized she might have to kill her father.
A chilling numbness settled over her, and Ashlyn blinked. “I’m sorry that I misunderstood,” she said hollowly. Her voice didn’t even sound like hers. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Drake hesitated, looking at her, his expression a mix of despair and confusion. Ashlyn understood his ambivalence, and stepped back, sliding the door open again.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Without pausing to acknowledge her words, Drake rushed out the door.
Ashlyn stood at the edge of darkness, within the reach of the lamplight, unmoving. The wind stirred the shorter pieces of her hair, tickling her cheeks, and she brushed the strands aside, feeling wetness on her face. How many times had she cried in the last few weeks? More times than she could count. More times than she’d cried in her entire life preceding that fateful night in Restlyn Place, she was sure.
She took a deep breath. One of the many varied emotions tugging at her heart right now was regret, something she’d become familiar with over the last several days. She felt like an arrogant moron for even considering that Drake Lockhart might actually feel something for her. Apparently the last three years hadn’t taught her any kind of humility- or common sense, for that matter.
She began to slide the door shut, but a hand stopped it on the track, and Ashlyn’s heart leaped into her throat.
He had come back.
She looked up to see someone standing in front of her.
It wasn’t Drake.
It was Vargo.
Before she had a chance to think, to acknowledge him, to realize what was happening, he stepped forward, grabbing her arms and pulling her to him, and his lips were on hers.
For a moment Ashlyn went completely rigid, unable to comprehend what was happening, but then his arms slid around her, his fingers warm against the bare skin of her lower back, and she felt anger flare up inside of her- not towards Vargo, but towards Drake.
Drake didn’t care about her. He’d made that perfectly clear. Why should she continue to push Vargo away when he obviously wanted her? Why waste another moment waiting for Drake to have a change of heart?
She shoved her lips more fervently against Vargo’s, not wanting to think about Drake anymore, and he smiled against her mouth, one hand coming up to caress the back of her neck. His touch sent tremors down her spine.
The electricity was palpable between them, and she gave herself up to it, wriggling her arms up to thread her fingers through his silky air, keeping him close. His body was warm against hers, his fingers a blaze of fire on her skin.
Tears pricked at her eyes, and something welled up inside her, an emotion so unbidden that Ashlyn shivered against him. He broke the kiss, cradling her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he caught his breath.
“Did you…did you want to tell me something?” she asked after a moment, trying to keep her voice light.
He paused for a moment, and spoke, in a tone that was equal parts desperate and affectionate. “Yeah. I wanted to tell you to forget about him.”
Ashlyn’s stomach turned. He had heard what she’d said to Drake. “You were listening,” she said faintly.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding more undone than she could ever remember, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop- I just wanted to talk to you alone.”
He pulled back then, and touched her face, his thumb catching the tears on her cheeks. As she met his eyes, Ashlyn flinched at the mixed emotions she saw reflected in those emerald depths. Misery was etched clearly in his gaze, but there was something unfamiliar there, too- some deeper emotion that Ashlyn didn’t want to guess at.
“Forget about him, Ash,” Vargo said, pleading now. “He’s an idi
ot. Think about me. I’m here- I’m right here. I am what you see. I’m not gonna string you along with pretty words and then walk away when you need me.”
As much as it pained her to admit it, he was right. Vargo had been there every step of the way. He hadn’t made any secret of his feelings for her, and he certainly hadn’t confused her with conflicting behaviors, plying her heart with poetry one minute and grinding it beneath his heel the next.
What was it supposed to feel like? Ashlyn wasn’t sure. There was chemistry in Vargo’s touch, a spark that she’d never felt with anyone else, but there was something deeper with Drake. Something that felt like it could last forever.
Something that can never happen, a nagging voice inside her head reprimanded her snidely. Drake had made that obvious when he’d walked away just moments ago.
Perhaps sensing her ambivalence, Vargo’s arms tightened around her, and he smiled down at her, shaking his head. “I can see those wheels turning, princess. Don’t talk yourself out of it,” he said, eyes searching hers. “Let me stay with you tonight.”
“No,” Ashlyn said reflexively, and frowned. Would she have said yes to Drake? “Not yet,” she amended.
His gaze was unwavering upon her, an uncharacteristic stillness about him. “Maybe not ever?” he said.
She felt like there was more to the question than the words he’d spoken. It felt rushed, like he was asking about more than just now, and more than just spending the night with her.
She didn’t want to give him false hope, but she also didn’t want to lie to him.
“Maybe,” she agreed, and they stared at each other for a long moment, contemplating.
Finally, he stepped back. “I’ll be here in the morning,” he said.
I won’t be.
Out loud she said, “I know.”
He took her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her palm, then released her.
He was out the door before she could draw a breath, disappearing once more into the night.
After a moment, Ashlyn slid the door shut, heart pounding.
She wouldn’t be here when anyone came in the morning, and she wondered how Vargo would react now, seeing that she’d left after what had just happened.
Would he think that she’d left because of him?
Ashlyn took a deep breath. Her emotions were a complete mess right now, despairing over the situation with her father and the weirdly complex triangle she found herself in with Drake and Vargo. She was furious with the vampire for rejecting her, and confused about what had just happened with Vargo, but also angry at herself for even thinking about her love life at a time like this.
It was time to focus on what was more important- the future of Toryn.
It was with that thought in mind that she slipped out into the night hours later, her newly-recovered hira shuriken securely strapped to her back with her sword, the mark of Toryn emblazoned on her green mask.
She left a note in her bedroom, knowing that FLD would find it in the morning and send someone after her.
I have to face my father alone.
To be continued…
REGRET
Book 2 in the Lady of Toryn trilogy
Chapter 1
Barren
Flowers in the desert.
Could you get any more contradictory than that? It was sort of ironic. Or maybe not, because she didn’t really know what ironic meant, except that people usually said it to explain strange coincidences.
Mostly she just thought flowers in the desert were weirdly appropriate right at that moment because the whole concept was a lot like her- a total contradiction. A ditzy girl-woman with an attention span of about five seconds for everything except being a bad-ass ninja, and that was really what she excelled at, wasn’t it? Being stunningly shallow and irresponsible, but kicking serious butt any time the opportunity presented itself.
Ashlyn Li, Elder Heir of Toryn, sniffled pathetically into her own hands, tears squeezing out from between her fingers, their initial comforting warmth fading and turning tepid in the chilly night air as they trickled down her wrists.
It was so unfair. She’d tried to do everything right, she’d held in her feelings and had avoided her birthright by living like a nomad for three years straight, and yet- and yet…and yet it all went wrong, and this entire mess was her fault. As if the knowledge that she’d inadvertently started a war in her own kingdom wasn’t enough, Drake had rejected her, and…and…Ashlyn didn’t even know what. She’d never felt like this before, because she’d never let anyone close enough to hurt her this way.
Three years ago, she had been fifteen, hotheaded and sticky-fingered, ready to get out of Toryn and see the world. What had begun as a spontaneous adventure, joining forces with Skye, Restlyn and the rest of FLD had quickly become the turning point for her, the moment in time where she finally grew up and realized that there was more to life than thievery and sarcasm. And by the time Lord Angelo had killed the last Angel, by the time FLD had defeated the warlord and saved the sun, Ashlyn had realized two things.
One- she was crazy about Drake Lockhart, a vampire who sometimes displayed less personality than a hunk of driftwood, and someone she had no business being crazy about in the first place, considering he was immortal, angst-ridden, painfully gorgeous, and entirely out of her league.
And two- she wasn’t ready to be Lady of Toryn.
But there had been no one to pass the responsibility off to, because she was the Elder Heir. The only heir.
At the time, running away had seemed like a pretty good option.
Obviously running away three years ago had set the tone for the rest of her life, because last night, Ashlyn had run away again- only this time, she was running towards responsibility, not away from it. She was determined to face her father and challenge him for leadership of Toryn.
Ashlyn hiccupped, wiping her face with the back of her hand and trying to blink through the tears as she stared at her mother’s headstone. Her chin trembled as sobs threatened to overcome her once more.
Susyn Li’s grave was at the end of a long, lonely canyon, bordered on all sides by steep dirt walls. There were no other graves, but Ashlyn had always liked it that way, preferring the solitude of her mother’s final resting place to the busier location of the public Toryn cemeteries.
It wasn’t technically in the desert, but at this time of year it certainly looked that way. Toryns had always called this place The Barrens, because in the winter it was pretty much desolate, the heavy winds sweeping away dead vegetation in anticipation of the coming spring. After the cold had passed, creeping vines with small blue flowers would cover the cliff walls, turning the empty canyon into a beautiful secret garden.
But right now, there was no hint of color, no reprieve from the droll grayness of the canyon. Autumn was turning its back on the island, and this area was one of the first to lose its foliage to early freezes, hungry scavengers and the winds. The artificial cherry blossom branches Ashlyn had brought with her from her home in the city looked out of place in the bare canyon, and it felt even stranger to leave fake flowers instead of real ones, but Ashlyn hadn’t had any time to be picky.
The cherry blossoms were pink, but their centers were much darker, almost a deep red, reminiscent of Drake Lockhart’s vermilion eyes. Ashlyn could still remember the conflicted look in those eyes when she’d finally confessed her feelings last night, the mixture of shame and despair.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” she whispered as she stood, shaking in the moonlight. “You made your feelings pretty clear, didn’t you, Drake?”
She didn’t have a right to be angry, but she was. More than angry. Furious. At herself, at that idiot vampire Drake Lockhart, at Vargo for stepping in at her most vulnerable moment and confusing her with that kiss.
Nothing made sense anymore, and she didn’t want to think about it.
She’d spent more time lingering at the gravesite than she’d intended. Ashlyn quickly retraced her steps back to the ca
nyon’s entrance and set off again on her original path, following the coast towards the southern half of the island. Pulling her mask up to cover the lower half of her face again, she reached into her knapsack and withdrew a gleaming orange gem- the reveal stane she’d swiped off Skye when they’d parted ways three years ago.
She lifted the stane, intending to slide it into a space in her armlet, then paused, realizing that there were no empty slots. There were two spaces for stanes in her armlet, and she usually kept a heal stane in one slot and left the other one empty, but she’d completely forgotten about the shift stane she had taken from one of her father’s soldiers during the battle for the pagoda. After some deliberation, Ashlyn unstrapped her hira shuriken from her back, placing the stane into one of the weapon’s empty slots instead.
She whispered a few words, concentrating hard on the tiny orb, and tiny sparks erupted from the stane, spiraling through the air before gently touching down on the sand. As she watched, the swirling little fireflies formed a short path in front of her, extending each time she took a step, and Ashlyn smiled in spite of herself. Reveal was one of the strongest and rarest magics in existence. The sparks from the stane led its user directly towards whatever it was they were seeking. There were some drawbacks to the magic- such as the possibility of the sparks alerting your enemy that you were approaching, or the magic’s tendency to take the most direct route, even if said route was off a cliff or through a raging river. But it had proved invaluable during their battle against Lord Angelo.
The moon was pulling itself slowly to the east, so that Ashlyn’s shadow stretched out to her right, long and thin, as she picked her way along the beach. She tried to stay on the hard-packed dirt farthest from the water so that her tracks were less visible. Here, on the center stretch of the island, there were no trees or dense foliage to use as cover, so she had to move quickly. Ashlyn picked up her pace, sprinting after the fireflies as the glittering path unfurled ahead of her.
She didn’t have much time before FLD discovered that she was missing, but she’d made pretty good time moving away from the city of Toryn, heading towards the southern half of the island. Ashlyn wasn’t quite sure how FLD would react to the simple note she’d left behind. She’d scrawled it hastily, her own thoughts and emotions too complicated to convey in words.
The Lady of Toryn Anthology (Lady of Toryn trilogy) Page 23
