Sold To The Cruel Pr Chapter 70: A Fire

Chapter 70: A Fire

"She made a shadow lattice. Noctyrr’s limb was severed from its body..." Kael continued, voice low with lingering disbelief. "And it did not grow back."

Theron’s eyes narrowed at once. "It did not grow back?"

The monster had resisted everything they had thrown at it. Silver. Wood. Garlic-laced silver. Blessed steel. Sage. Every weapon and ward known to hurt those creatures had failed to do more than anger it. They had never been able to get deep enough, never been able to determine what truly killed it.

And Aveline had torn through it like that?

"She did not even use a rune," Kael added.

That, more than anything, was the part that unsettled Theron. He stayed silent for a beat, taking it in.

"She never studied runes," Theron said.

She had never had the chance. And yet she had done what trained mages struggled to achieve. What did that an? How could she wield power without the structure of runes, without the discipline everyone else needed to shape magic into anything useful?

The stones.

Theron’s jaw tightened.

He knew there was sothing important about them. She knew sothing no one else did. He had sensed it before, in the way she guarded certain truths, in the way she refused to explain the things she saw.

And she had not trusted him enough to tell him.

The mory of it returned with a familiar sting.

The colors in the mountains. He had thought she would open up eventually, that with ti she might trust him enough to speak freely. But now he knew better.

She would never trust him.

Not while she believed herself to be his slave.

How could she?

The thought struck with fresh pain.

"She saved ?" Theron asked, more to himself than to Kael.

She had saved him, and when he awoke, he had gone and blad her. No wonder she had been furious. No wonder her eyes had flared and her temper had snapped in half.

And still... he had learned the truth.

That thought did not ease the guilt.

"Yes, sire," Kael said, nodding. "Her eyes turned darker. Her voice deepened—sothing ancient, almost. And the shadow that draped around her like silk..."

His voice trailed for a breath, then resud with the kind of admiration he clearly could not stop himself from voicing.

"She looked more beguiling than anything I have ever seen."

Theron turned slowly to stare at him. Not only did he get to see Aveline in all that glory, he’s bragging to him now?

Kael was too absorbed in his own recollection to notice the danger in that look.

Theron’s expression darkened further.

Kael blinked at him, finally sensing the shift. "Sire?"

"Leave," Theron said, the word clipped and rough.

Kael stared at him with his eyes wide. He had expected anger and punishnt. A blade at his throat.

Instead... he got nothing?

Confusion flickered across his face. "Sire...?"

"One day," Theron added, his voice turning colder, "when she asks for your punishnt, I will grant it."

Understanding settled in. Kael realized he did not attain rcy or forgiveness. He got a reprieve... borrowed from her.

Kael bowed deeply.

"Yes, my liege."

And the next mont, he disappeared into the shadows.

Theron sat and watched Aveline.

-----

Aveline watched the wolf closely, hardly daring to breathe.

It held her gaze for one long mont, then turned away and disappeared into the trees as though it had decided she was not worth the trouble after all.

Aveline blinked.

Then, slowly, she straightened and pressed a hand to her chest that was still beating. After making sure that the wolf had gone and there were no other predators around, her lips curled to a smirk.

"That’s right," she shouted, scandalized and vindicated at once. "You cannot ss with ."

She had genuinely thought she was about to die.

And yet the wolf had left.

How odd.

A faint rustling ca from her side.

Aveline turned sharply. "Hamilton! Where were you?"

Hamilton trotted into view with a bundle of twigs and dry branches clamped in his mouth. He dropped them neatly at her feet and looked up at her with wide, expectant eyes, his tail wagging so hard his whole body seed to tremble with pride.

Aveline stared.

She had thought him empty-headed. A sweet little fool, perhaps, but a fool all the sa.

And yet he had brought her firewood. And dry ones at that, just like she had taught him.

"You saved us tonight, Hamilton," she said, bending at once to kiss the top of his head.

Hamilton’s tiny wings fluttered instantly, and his tail went even faster, as if he had been waiting all his short life for praise of this exact magnitude.

Aveline laughed softly and scratched behind his head.

"Who is my smart baby? Who is my genius little tubby? Isn’t it Hamilton?"

Hamilton responded by wagging harder, clearly delighted with the title.

Then Aveline paused. She felt sothing...A curious sensation in a very particular area.

She squinted into the darkness, trying to make out what it was, but there was nothing there that she could see.

Theron, anwhile, had already withdrawn behind a tree the mont she looked in his direction.

His hands curled into fists.

How was that hideous creature getting all the kisses?

Aveline stacked the firewood in a careful little pile, determined to be practical for once. Fire would keep predators away, and the night was already growing cold. It was the only sensible thing to do.

Unfortunately, sensible did not an skilled.

On the other side of the clearing, Theron pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Oh, Aveline..." he muttered under his breath. "You have stacked them too tightly. The fire will not catch like that."

But she could not hear him.

And even if she could, she had no idea how to light a fire.

She looked down at Hamilton. "Do you know how to light a fire?"

Hamilton stared up at her with those sa blank, innocent eyes and then began nudging her leg, as though he had misunderstood the question in the most optimistic way possible.

Aveline let out a long breath.

"Enough pushing," she said, though she was smiling now. "Co on. Let us make a fire."

Aveline stared at the pile of wood. The pile stared back.

"...Right," she said, as though the sticks themselves had issued a challenge. "Fire."

She picked up two branches. She had seen people do this before. Sowhere. At so point.

If you rub them together and fire appears. Simple.

She pressed the sticks together and began to rub.

Nothing.

She frowned and rubbed faster.

Still nothing.

She pressed harder, her hands moving with stubborn determination.

Nothing.

Aveline squinted at the sticks. "Are you broken?"

Hamilton tilted his head, watching her with those large, innocent eyes.

Aveline huffed and tried again, this ti with far more conviction, sawing one stick against the other as though she ant to win a personal grudge against it.

The stick snapped clean in half.

She froze.

Hamilton’s eyes widened.

"...That was not supposed to happen," she said slowly.

Hamilton, apparently inspired by her thod, grabbed a stick in his mouth and began chewing it with great enthusiasm.

"No—! Not like that!" Aveline lunged forward and pried the soggy, half-chewed wood from his mouth. "It has to be dry, Hamilton. Dry."

Hamilton let out a small grumble.

Aveline looked down at the ruined stick in her hand. She laughed. Hamilton thought of it as a praise and wagged harder.

She let out a long, suffering sigh and tossed the broken piece aside before picking up another branch.

"Fine. We try sothing else."

Theron watched with amusent to see what she could do.

Hamilton, observing her with deep interest, leaned forward beside her... and sneezed directly into the pile and the sticks scattered in every direction.

Aveline sat back, stunned.

Hamilton blinked at her, tail wagging as if he had just perford an excellent service.

Aveline slowly turned her head. She didn’t want to, but she did anyway.

She teared up.

Are we going to die tonight?