Sold To The Cruel Pr Chapter 72: To Respect Her Choice

Chapter 72: To Respect Her Choice

Aveline was nearly fed up with Hamilton.

He kept sneezing at the worst possible monts, scattering her firewood and nudging her away from the pile with his mouth as though he knew sothing she did not. She tried to read him, but for once, there was nothing there she could make sense of.

Maybe it was because he was still a baby. Maybe babies simply did not think in any language she understood.

Still, when he sneezed for what felt like the tenth ti, she ca very close to scolding him.

She stopped herself only because he was far too small and looked far too offended at the world already.

Then she had resud her efforts. Hamilton sneezed again, but this ti...

Aveline froze.

A fla had caught.

Her dress had actually caught on fire at the hem, but she had beaten it out so quickly that the damage was only a small singe, not a disaster. For one alarming second, she just stared.

Then understanding struck.

Hamilton had been nudging her away from the firewood because he knew he could make fire.

By sneezing, apparently. That was what he was trying all this ti, while trying to nudge her away.

"Hamilton..." she said, looking at him now with the kind of reverence normally reserved for saints and miracle workers.

She had thought she was the strong one. The clever one. The one who would figure things out and keep them both alive through the night.

Instead, this little creature had overturned all her assumptions with a single, dramatic sneeze.

"How did you do that?" she asked softly, then brightened at once. "You did wonderfully, tubby!"

Hamilton went very still for a mont, his gaze dropping to the singed edge of her skirt.

Then, seeing the smile on her face, lit by the fire he had helped create, his whole little body seed to puff up with pride.

His wings fluttered. His tail wagged furiously. His eyes got wide as he leaned to her.

And before Aveline could brace herself, he lunged at her with the full force of his baby enthusiasm.

She let out a startled yelp as he tumbled into her lap and then onto her chest, licking her face with reckless affection.

"Ah—Hamilton! Your mouth slls like smoke!" she laughed, pushing at him gently. "Back, back."

He finally relented, climbing down with all the dignity of a conqueror.

At last, when Aveline sat up, Hamilton looked at her with unmistakable pride, as though he had personally invented fire and saved civilization.

"You gave us fire," she told him, smiling despite herself. "Good boy, Hamilton."

That was enough for him.

He settled his head in her lap with complete satisfaction, as though he had earned the right to be admired for the rest of the evening.

Aveline let out a long breath and turned her gaze toward the flas.

"We are safe for the night, Hamilton," she murmured.

She still had no idea how he had done it. She had checked his mouth earlier, and there had been no sign of anything. No spark, no trick, no clue.

But she was too tired to puzzle it out properly now. Whatever it was, she would deal with it tomorrow.

Tonight, they had fire.

Tonight, they were alive.

And for the mont, that was enough.

And Theron... how far was he from her?

That thought hit her unbidden and caused a pang in her heart. He had left her. And from on, she would have to fend for herself.

She wiped the tear that had rolled down at the corner of her eyes. She wished Theron well in her heart.

The warmth of the flas, the weight of Hamilton in her lap, and the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with her all at once.

She rested her head gently atop his and closed her eyes.

A mont later, she drifted into sleep.

Theron ca out from the cover of the trees only after she had fallen asleep.

He had intended to take her then, to lift her into his arms and carry her away from the cold, uneven ground. His body still rembered too well how she would go limp against his shoulder when sleep claid her, how her arms would drift around his neck without thought, trusting him even in dreams.

He stepped closer.

Then he saw the creature stirring beside her.

’What does she see in you?’

The mutter slipped out before he could stop it.

His hand settled automatically near his dagger, ready to defend himself if the thing moved too sharply. But instead of lunging, the little creature rolled onto its back like a ridiculous puppy and lay there with its belly exposed, utterly unguarded, as though it felt perfectly safe at her side.

Theron stared at it for a mont longer than was reasonable.

Then he looked at Aveline.

He had already trampled on her pride once. He did not want to trample on sothing else now—the quiet freedom she had fought so hard to keep, the right to choose, to stay, to sleep where she pleased without being moved like sothing fragile and owned.

So instead of taking her and leaving, he sat down beside her.

He settled where she had slept, with the hideous little beast curled near them and Aveline still tucked into his arms. She would not have to wake on the bare ground. She had him for that.

The fire crackled softly in front of them.

Leaves whispered in the breeze.

Sowhere in the distance, wild animals called to one another in the dark.

But for that night, the three of them rested in uneasy peace.

And in the early morning, Aveline stirred.

Sleep still clung to her as she blinked through a haze of warmth and half-dreams. Her vision was blurred, the world soft around the edges, and then a face erged from it...

Theron.

Her lips parted.

"Theron..." she murmured.

For one hazy, tender second, she thought she must be dreaming him. She must miss him terribly, for him to appear so clearly at the edge of sleep.

A small smile curved her mouth.

Her heart gave a quiet, helpless skip as she looked at him.

Still there.

Still warm.

Still close enough to touch.

And this dream-version of Theron was different.

This one had not bought her.

This one had not left her alone in the forest.

And more importantly... This one had no wife.

The thought ca with an unexpected rush of relief so sweet it made her pulse stumble.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and pushed herself upright, still half lost in sleep. If this were a dream, then perhaps she could be brave here. Perhaps she could borrow a little more of this impossible closeness.

Her gaze dropped to his mouth.

Will his lips taste the sa, too?

Curiosity blood hot and sudden in her chest. She wanted to find out. Slowly, almost shyly, she leaned closer. Her breath brushed his face.

His lips were right there.

And she kept coming, drawn forward only by her dream-courage.