Chapter 8 Fiery Whispers

POV – Camilla

I lean against the corridor wall's smooth stone as my heart beats like a drum inside my chest. The elder's blade shines in the dim light of the torch as it threatens my throat while Lucien stands with his pallid face between us. His voice full of guilt and anger carries the whispered warning, "Don't trust her," as the elder grips the knife more firmly. I gasp for air while fear twists inside me as I look between them.

I move without thinking to shift my weight, then escape by jerking free and passing Lucien, who stands frozen in shock. The hot slash of the dagger makes contact with my arm and spreads red flesh, yet I continue without pause. With a burst of speed, I race through the hallway while my cloak dances around my legs before I reach the stairwell and crash down into the courtyard. The night path floods with moonlight as I stumble forward while my blood and fear mix in my veins.

As I sprint towards the stables, I press my fingers to my arm wound without glancing back. I struggle to focus as pain and betrayal slice through each breath while the world blurs around me. I open the old mare's stall door while she greets me with a gentle whicker. The mare presses her nose into my hand while I quickly mount her back as my heart races with the desire to escape as far as possible.

As the elder's urgent shout reverberates behind me, I mount the mare and start kicking her sides. She leaps into motion as her hooves strike the earth forcefully while she carries me across the night-shrouded forest. The galloping movement frees me from my fear, while the pain in my arm brings back memories of that blade. My face gets soaked with sweat and blood, which I wipe away by pressing my cheek against the horse's mane.

I slow the horse to a stop at the forest boundary before dismounting and hiding myself among the dense pine trees. Despite the seeping warmth from my arm onto my sleeve, I manage to stay composed while pressing a cloth against the wound. My breath quivers as I lean back against the tree while feelings of betrayal whirl through my mind. Lucien's warning, "Don't trust her", haunts me in the darkness.

The first light of day reveals me curled in a tree hollow while the wound burns brightly beneath the pale light. As the wind rustles the pines, I awaken to silence, and Lucien's voice fills my mind first. A bitter taste occupies my tongue as it blends with the persistent burning pain in my chest. His absence leaves the world empty, and his distrust weighs heavily on me.

With shaking hands, I cover my arm using torn pieces from my cloak before I stand at the forest's boundary. A packhouse stands on top of a distant hill with smoke rising from its chimney. The urge to go back and apologise battles with the haunting memory of a blade against my throat, which holds me in place. With a hard swallow, I feel torn between my vow for revenge and the persistent love that follows me.

When the sun reaches its peak in the sky, I ride back toward the packhouse with my mind drifting thanks to the mare's steady rhythm. With every heartbeat reverberating in my hand, I hold the reins, they remind me of how deeply betrayal can wound. When I arrive at the gates, I get off my horse as a guard wolf looks at me suspiciously. I perform a courteous bow while suppressing the trembling in my voice as I request an audience with Lucien.

The sentry gives a nod before guiding me through the silent corridors. I track the dim torchlight to reach Lucien's door, which I once fled from. As I raise my hand to knock softly, my heart pounds rapidly. Through the wooden door, his voice comes in a low whisper. My eyes lower while my voice strains as I declare, "It's me."

Lucien emerges from the doorway, and his face reveals a wave of surprise. Lucien's eyes move quickly from my face to the ragged bandage on my arm, then return to my face. His voice carries both worry and remorse when he observes, "You're hurt." My cloak slips off my shoulders as I enter the room.

He shuts the door, then leads me to a stool by the hearth, softly placing his hands on me. I manage to hold his stare even though my mind replays the moment the knife flashed between us. He drops to his knees before me to examine the injury while his touch remains gentle. The old longing spikes in my chest.

From a wooden box, he retrieves herbs and salve before starting to cleanse the wound with steady and gentle movements. The soothing, cool poultice eases my pain while he applies fresh bandages to my arm. My eyes remain fixed on him as I struggle with feelings of trust and doubt. His brow furrows as he works.

After completing his task, he says softly, "I'm sorry I doubted you," while his voice shakes with regret for a brief moment. My breath stops as hope and fear fight inside my belly. I begin to speak, but my words become trapped in my throat. Lucien rises and carefully places my hand against his cheek.

I close my eyes and lean into his embrace as his warmth envelops me for a fleeting moment. The sudden silence ends with the sound of wood splintering against the window. Lucien stiffens, dropping my hand. I track his gaze and notice a shadowy form disappearing into the night. My heart leaps with alarm.

Lucien strides to the window and looks outside with his jaw clenched in a hard line. Beside him, I stand with an ache in my chest that resonates throughout my entire body. I feel my pulse race as I understand our secrets have tracked me back home when he turns to me with dark eyes and whispers, "We're not safe here."

As I lay in my new bed, my thoughts continued to replay Lucien's confessions. Sleep continues to haunt me, so I leave the cabin and roam the courtyard. Moonlight covers the walls with silver while I pick up Lucien's soft, tentative voice among the shadows. He calls a name that tears my soul: The name from my past that I thought had been lost forever with my burial.

I freeze, blood turning to ice in my veins as the realisation hits me: He maintains his mourning for the partner he thought had died. A forbidden hope emerges in my chest with dangerous brightness. Tears blur my sight as I stagger backwards, consumed by the promise of his grief. My footing gives way, and I plunge into a concealed well where darkness engulfs me.

A dull crack echoed as I struck the bottom while air escaped my lungs and moonlight disappeared above me. The darkness swallows my scream, and the last sound reaching me is Lucien's gentle name carried by the breeze.