Chapter 96: On Fire
My Lorraine... my sweet little porcupine...
He simply watched her, the way her cheek rested so trustingly against his hand, the faintest smile curving her lips even in sleep. She looked... happy. Peaceful.
Something in his chest tightened.
His thumb lingered against her temple, memorizing the feel of her before he let his hand fall.
Did I wrong you? Why won’t you trust me?
She stirred a little, still holding his hand like a lifeline. He gathered her into his lap, holding her so her head rested against his chest.
He felt full. Her weight always grounded him. That night beneath the vyrnshade tree, when the poison had nearly been his choice, it was her weight that kept him tethered. Even now...
His fingers drifted through her hair before he placed a kiss on her forehead, his gaze lingering there longer than necessary. He removed his mask to feel the wind on his face.
Above them, the ash tree swayed. In Kaltharion, ash was a harmony of opposites. Its tall, straight trunk was seen as masculine, and its leafy crown as feminine. A blessing for unions. A binding for vows.
When they were given this land after their wedding, there had been nothing but a weathered cottage and a scattering of stubborn trees, including this ash. The locals whispered it was cursed because two star-crossed lovers had ended their lives beneath it.
He had expected her to see the place as unlucky. He had pitied himself for giving her so little. But then she’d smiled at him, quiet, unshakable, and somehow made him believe he was enough.
That was how she always loved. Wholly. Without fault. They thought they’d given him the worst. She had turned it all into the best.
And yet...
He gently rocked her as she stirred, his gaze drawn to her hand resting on her belly. Odd. She used to cling to him without thought. Carefully, he took her hand and placed it against his chest.
It didn’t take long for her to clutch his shirt.
Perfect. Now it is perfect. Don’t stop loving me. I have no one but you.
---
Lorraine, in Leroy’s embrace, found herself standing upon a lake so still it might have been glass, its surface flawless, mirroring an endless sky, in her dreams. For a moment, she thought she was back in her divination chamber: silent, suspended, untouched by time.
She, who had never set foot beyond the capital of Vaeloria, had been walking through strange, unfamiliar places in her dreams of late. Perhaps it was the strain of uprooting her life, of moving entirely to a land she did not yet trust. That fear still whispered in the depths of her heart.
And yet... this did not feel like a dream. Not entirely. The air was too sharp. The lake beneath her feet too real, cool against her skin, though she stood upon it as if weightless.
Clink.
A single drop of water fell; she could not tell from where, breaking the perfect stillness. Ripples spread outward in concentric circles, reaching her toes, weaving away in strange, deliberate patterns.
She crouched, waiting for the water to still. She thought she saw something under the water. When it did, her breath caught seeing what was reflected.
Leroy...
He stood clad in full armor, the flag of the dragon sigil snapping above him in a wind she could not feel. His face was streaked with dirt and blood, his sword dripping red and raised toward a sky that was burning red. The world behind him seemed to burn.
Then... his eyes shifted. And in the reflection, he was looking at her. Not past her, not through her—at her.
Her heart thudded violently.
Without warning, fire roared across the image, swallowing him whole. His silhouette was lost in a wall of heat and light.
"No!
" The cry tore from her throat. She tried to run, but her feet would not move. Invisible bindings tightened around her, holding her fast.Yet... the hold was not cold. It was warm. Steady. Familiar. Like arms she had felt once before, though she could not name when. The heat pressed against her cheek, wrapped around her ribs, and anchored her until her trembling eased.
The nightmare dissolved like mist before the sun, and when her lashes fluttered open, the warmth had not left.
Someone was there, close enough that she could feel their breath against her hair.
Her lashes fluttered open, the dream still clinging to her like mist. The murmur of leaves above reminded her where she was. She was beneath the ash tree, but the warmth around her belonged to something else entirely.
Leroy.
He was sitting beside her, his hand curved protectively at the back of her head, holding her in place against his shoulder. The sunset was spilling its last orange rays through the branches, and for a moment, she couldn’t tell if it was the fading dream or the real world that felt more dangerous.
How long did I sleep?
Her gaze drifted to his face, and the sight struck her like a blow. The sunset caught his cheek at just the right angle, and in that fragile moment, dream and waking blurred. His faint birthmark burned in the light, glowing like an ember, as if his skin were about to catch fire.
Her breath caught. Before she could think, she pushed forward, batting at his face with her hands to smother the imagined flame.
"Lorraine!" Leroy’s voice sharpened as he caught her wrists.
She froze. His skin was cool. No fire. No danger. Only him.
Her eyes widened, her pulse still racing. What is happening to me?
"Are you alright?" he asked, searching her face. His tone softened. "Lorraine, look at me. I... I’m sorry I held you while you slept."
He shifted slightly, as if to draw her back into his arms, but she flinched before he could.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. First, the dream of almost losing her child. Then, the dream of her husband getting engulfed in flames, waking to see her husband’s face burning in the sun’s dying light.
Her body shook, the terror too fresh to separate from reality.
Leroy’s hand hovered near her shoulder, then lowered, his attempt to console her faltering against the wall she threw up between them.
She shook her head, pulled free, and rose to her feet. The ash leaves whispered overhead, their shadows stretching long across the grass. She turned away, fast enough to shed his warmth, yet slow enough for it to cling stubbornly in her mind.
Left beneath the tree, Leroy stared at the space she’d left behind. His hands felt useless, empty. It hurt to see her suffer and know he could do nothing to draw her closer.
"Why are you running from me? I am not your father. I am not going to hurt you... " he murmured to the roots and shadows. "Why are you scared of me?"