Page 18 of Of Shadows and Blood

The door swings open faster than lightning, and I pay no attention to the thud of it as it hits the wall.

“Sawyer,” my voice cracks, emotion welling as I lunge forward and into his arms once more, relishing in his touch. He hugs me back, his broad hands tightening around my back and waist.

“Where have you been? I’m losing my mind.” I emphasize the last word and release a bit to truly take him in. His clothes are different, more formal. His build is firmer and his height changed… but this is Sawyer.

My Sawyer.

He backs me up into the cottage, shutting the door behind him. Sawyer shifts his weight and the sound of a crunch forces both of our eyes below to the shattered bottle and blood spilt on the floor.

“Oh, Liv,” he starts as he takes in the bloodied robe sticking out from beneath the tea table. The red doesn’t feel right in this space, this cottage. It feels brash and wrong.

“These bottles,” I say, motioning to the crates and the glass, “are all filled with blood. Blood, Sawyer. What is going on here? They’re going to kill us.” I begin panicking. Sawyer drinks me in, his eyes raising from the floor, past my pale legs, up the thin cover and landing on my face. Feeling a bit awkward, I cross my arms across my chest. He’s never seen me in anything less than work clothes from the farm. All clothes were work clothes.

He takes a step onto the glass and his nostrils flare. “Little explanation I can offer you right now will help.”

“Any explanation will help. How far from the village are we? Did you tell Ma I’m okay?”

Sawyer steps in close and puts a palm to my cheek. I shudder at his touch. He murmurs. “Do you trust me?”

“You’re different,” I blurt, wiping a tear from my face.

“I could say the same for you,” he softly replies before looking down and I swear I heard his heart beat just once.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, ignoring his remark and moving to the couch. I need answers and I can’t be near the blood any more. Sawyer hesitates before joining me. Our thighs are pressed next to one another, cold and yearning. I fiddle with the lace of my hem as my mind races.

He leans in. “These people—”

“Hardly people,” I interrupt, my face begins to burn because something is off. He nods, his hand resting on the inside of my thigh. His usual warmth is missing but the feel of him gives my mind reassurance. “Sawyer, what happened to me? What happened to you?”

“It’s complicated, Liv. Gods, it really is.”

“Well, uncomplicate it. Let us leave here,” I urge. He looks over at me then and it feels like the first time we met.

The rest was history.

“Let’s go right now,” I whisper, afraid of lingering ears. I don’t trust anyone but Sawyer.

“It’s not that easy.” Sawyer drops his head, obviously distressed by the situation. “If we left now…” He pauses. “Cedric would find us.”

I nod. “Why do they think you’re a prince?”

Sawyer shrugs. “I’ve been playing the part. They’re confused, maybe missing family members are trying to replace them. I’m not sure, but what matters is that we get out of here.”

“When?” I ask, replaying everything I know about the castle and the people. I wish I paid better attention to the grounds.

“I’m not sure, but I will come for you when it’s time. For now, we need to keep our distance. I’ll keep playing my part and you do what you need to do to survive.”

“You’re holding something back, I can tell. You always get a line –” I rub his forehead with my thumb slowly – “right here. What is it?”

Sawyer stands and looks around the cottage, peeking in doors and opening drawers. He looks taller, something I noticed when I first woke. And it’s true, his tan is gone. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do,” I reply, trying to ignore the metallic stink in the air. “You’re the only one I can trust,” I add.

“Good,” his voice trails from the kitchen as he searches for something I do not know.

“How long have we been here?” I ask.

“A couple weeks I think,” he replies from the bedroom now. A nervous energy builds in my legs, my hands, my stomach. Everything is wrong.