Page 28 of The Wolf and Her Shadows

Guilt pools low in my belly and I lower my face to rest in the palms of my hands. Between my fingers, I whisper, “I’m sorry, Mariane. Truly. If I had thought that might happen, I would have asked Vannaria to warn you. Normally, I’m able to keep the flames contained."

“Aren, please don’t apologize.” When I don’t respond, Mariane asks, “Is it alright if I touch you?”

Even though I have no idea how she’s so sure of which one of us I am. Even though I know I should shake my head. I lower my hands and nod. Her arms are wrapped around me a moment later, my head now cradled against her chest. Unable to help myself, I begin to cry.

Rubbing a soothing hand up and down my back, she whispers, “I’m sorry your dreams hurt you so deeply. I can’t imagine the horrors you must’ve seen. But, you’re safe now. Right here, right now, you’re safe.”

Her words of comfort only make me sob harder. She responds by hugging me tighter. We stay that way for quite some time. Even when my tears have stopped and my hands no longer tremble where they clutch at the back of her shirt.

I’m no fool, I know why our dreams hadn’t come the night prior. Vannaria had known it too. That fool had simply been too stubborn to ask if she could hold Mariane tonight as well. If our shared memory serves correct, Mariane had also looked as if she’d wanted to ask the same. Her eyes lingered on Vannaria far too long to be casual before she’d turned so she was facing away from us.

As if able to read my thoughts, Mariane pulls away slightly and grips my chin, forcing my gaze to meet hers as she whispers, “I think, for all our sakes, we should continue to sleep close to one another.” We both take shaky breaths and before I can respond, she continues, “I had a nightmare tonight as well. Though not nearly as painful as yours had so clearly been.”

“Pain is pain. Comparing one’s to another’s will only add more in the end,” I mutter, reflexively quoting the words I had often heard from Sir Rynheim in our early youth. Of course, a fresh wave of said pain rushes through me immediately afterwards.

“Hmm,” Mariane hums, hugging me a bit tighter with the arm still wrapped around me. “I’ve never heard that saying before, but I can appreciate the message behind it.”

I nod, unable to summon more words at the moment. My eyes drift closed as I feel Vannaria’s presence enter our shared mind, slowly claiming control of our body. With her here now, I allow myself to drift into the blissful deep expanse of nothingness.

Chapter Thirteen

Vannaria

Well, this is a bit of a surprise. Knowing that Aren had suffered through yet another nightmare, I had anticipated taking over for them last night. Which, I suppose I briefly had. Right before we had fallen back asleep.

The surprising bit, however, is that my head is resting on something much softer than my poor excuse for a pillow. One of Mariane’s breasts to be exact. We seem to be in a similar position as when we’d slept back at the courtesan house, yet our roles are obviously reversed.

After an uneventful day’s travel, we’d found a small crop of trees set aways off the main road to bed down in. Less exposed than out in the open, yet not nearly as hidden as we’d been in the dense forest we’d left behind.

Our horse had seemed pleased, however. Unlike the forest, the road we are on now is lined with grass, including the area we’re camped in. I’d still given him several handfuls of the grains the stablehand back in Drixton had been kind enough to provide. He’d earned it.

My makeshift pillow shifts beneath me, drawing my attention back to the present. A soft groan is followed by Mariane sleepily muttering, “Is it truly time to wake already?”

Chuckling softly, I squint one eye open to peer at the sky. A small bit of regret fills me upon seeing the sun high above us, its light filtering in through the trees illuminating our camp in soft light. “Apologies, Your Majesty,” I say, lifting my head off Mariane’s chest. “It appears as though it just might be.”

“What happened to calling me Princess?” she asks, voice still gravelly from having just woken up. “Not that I’m complaining, of course. Simply curious.”

Finding it much too early to have any sort of deep conversation, I mutter, “I decided it didn’t suit you.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

With a groan, I attempt to roll off Mariane, finding it more difficult than I’d expected when her arms tighten around me for a brief instance before slowly releasing me from their clutches. I stare down at her, brows furrowed, for a long moment. Her own eyes are still closed, face turned away from me. Hmm. Perhaps it had been accidental?

*No, I have a feeling it was not,* Aren mutters, sounding just as tired as I still feel.

*What makes you say that?* I ask, forcing myself to climb to my feet.

They sigh, the same pained sigh I normally hear from them. Yet somehow…different. *She was the one to ask if we could, for lack of a better term, cuddle. Seems our nights are not the only ones filled with dreams we wish to escape from.*

I glance back down at Mariane, who’s now rolled onto her side, knees drawn up to her chest and arms folded across her middle. My heart aches for her, the feeling urging me to fall back to the ground and wrap myself around her curled frame. Anything to ease the tension easily visible in her shoulders.

With effort, I force myself to begin packing up our small camp instead.

As I’m feeding our still unnamed horse a small handful of grain, Rayne asks, *Why ya gotta be so stubborn, huh?*

*What do you mean?* I return, unwilling to admit to knowing what she’s referring to.

*The pretty wolf girl wants ya, anyone with eyes can see it. Why aren’t ya going for it? Not like you to turn down a pretty girl, Vann. You even said no to the blonde Mistress, and we all know how much you like blondes. And Mistresses.*