Page 263 of Ashen Torment

I nod, letting my frustration slip away in a sharp gesture as I rap against the carriage to signal the driver.

“To Mekhovaya House.”

“It is located on the Ravenswood estate.”

“At Mekhovaya House, on the Ashfords’ Ravenswood estate, Benjamin.”

The carriage pulls away from the curb, the horses stamp their hooves briefly, and the rhythm of the cobbles mingles with the wind whistling through the wheels. The wood vibrates beneath our weight as we glide along the avenue. Dorian leans toward me, his forehead close to my shoulder.

“Let me explain.”

“Be quiet.”

Despite my words, his hand seizes mine, seeking contact.

“Listen to me.”

I shove it away with a sharp motion, my palm striking his skin.

“I said silence.”

“You are being unjust.”

I laugh softly.

“It does not suit you to pursue this conversation here,” I say, pointing toward the coachman.

Dorian catches that finger between his lips and presses a kiss to it. I pull it away and wipe it on my coat.

“You are behaving like a child.”

“You may step down from the carriage if you so desire,” I retort, my voice steady.

He sighs. “I did not say that.”

I turn toward him, my hand sliding toward the door on his side. The movement is deliberate, the carriage jolts slightly over a stone, but my grip remains firm. The door swings open with a faint creak.

“What the hell are you doing!” Dorian yells.

“Get out,” I reply, holding fast to the edge of the door.

Dorian seizes my hand, squeezing it, trying to wrench it back.

“Stop! You will overturn the carriage!”

I stare at him with eyes that burn, the moment lasts only a heartbeat, then with a sharp motion, I take my hand from the door and return to my seat. Swiftly, he pulls the door shut with a sharp click, the sound of metal echoing slightly in the cabin. His gaze remains fixed on me, a mixture of irritation and... something else.

“Evander—”

“If you do not wish to overturn, keep silent.”

He says nothing more. I turn away, staring at the road as it rushes past the sides of the carriage.

For a long stretch, neither of us dares speak, but I sense the nervous rhythm of Dorian’s foot against the floor, his leg moves in restrained twitches.

When the carriage comes to a halt before his estate, he steps down immediately, offering his hand in a gesture of courtesy.

I ignore it and descend on my own, my feet hit the cold gravel, my heart perceiving his presence like a weight behind me. I feel Dorian’s gaze piercing through me, I find myself swallowing hard.