Page 31 of A Sanctuary from Shadow
Perhaps sensing my aversion to premature parenthood, Briar stiffened against me.
Ugh, I thought.Just rip off the Band-Aid, Amy.“Briar, I’m sorry if I don’t seem—”
“No, no.” He relaxed again, though the glint in his eyes had dimmed. “It’s not you, Amy. There’s something I have to do.” Without elaboration, he kissed me—another artform of tenderness—and stroked my hip. “Why don’t you freshen up? When you’re ready, we’ll get breakfast.”
A shower sounded amazing right then, so I slipped from bed. The floorboards were cold as I plodded to the bathroom, but the shower was piping hot. Its steam thawed my skin as I plucked bobby pins from my updo.
Somehow during the festival, Briar had procured my tee-shirt, jeans, and undergarments from my tent. He’d folded them neatly and set them on the vanity counter along with my hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste.
How sweet is he?
I barely cared that his toiletries were scented—lemon lavender body wash and coconut shampoo and conditioner. I didn’t know why I assumed he’d realize that I never used scented products on my sensitive skin. No perfume. No fragrant moisturizers. Not even scented laundry detergent. I guessed even Danann boys with heightened senses could be clueless about such things.
When I wafted back out of the bathroom in a vaporous cloud, dressed in clean clothes, my skin scrubbed raw beneath them, and my hair wet, Briar wasn’t there. He’d probably gone for more firewood, so I sat at the café table to brush my hair. I hummed a new ballad by Delaney that I’d recently downloaded, relaxing as trees budded, wildlife chirped, and leaves rustled in the breeze beyond my window. And in this tranquility, a pair of voices rose. Briar’s. And Laurel Woodrush’s.
I shot to my feet, clattered to the second window, and gripped its cobwebbed sill.
I found the pair fighting in a distant copse of pines, barely obscured. Laurel wept, her cheeks blotchy, as Briar frowned, aging himself. Tying his shorts’ drawstring, he glanced over his shoulder at the cabin, reassuring himself that they weren’t being watched.
By me, I presumed.
Guess he didn’t know how far I could hear.
“You must stop doing this to yourself,” Briar said to Laurel. “Sweetheart—”
All my breath escaped in a rush.Sweetheart?
“I can’t take this, Briar.” Laurel clutched her riotous hair. Leaves stuck out of it. Had she slept on the ground? “Please, come back to me. This doesn’t feel right. Nothing’s been right.”
For a moment, Briar looked as heartbroken as she did. “We both knew this was coming, Laurel. We both knew it must end.”
“I never actually thought you’d go through with it!” Laurel wailed. “I always thought you’d decide against the whole thing in the end. Because you loved me. Because you wanted to be withme!”
Briar’s jaw worked, ineffable emotions warring for control of his face—emotions I never saw when he looked at me. “I can’t withdraw from the pact, Laurel. That would be—”
“Damn you! I don’t care about that! All I care about is us!”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “There’s no moreus, Laurel.”
She sobbed at those words, clutching her heart—a heart Ifeltshattering. “That’s it? All these years together, and now I must watch you parade around with Sasquatch like some adoring clod? And I’m just supposed to pretend it doesn’tkillme?”
“Stopcalling her by that rotten name. Jealousy doesn’t become you, Laurel.”
Shaken, Laurel choked on a fresh batch of tears. “How did you think I’d feel? Just because she’s a Larkspur, she’s set to get everything I’ve always wanted. And in all my ages, Briar, all I’ve ever wanted wasyou.”
He turned from her, anguish etching his features, the set of his shoulders. “It’s too late, anyway, Laurel.” He gulped deep in his throat. “Last night—she was ready, and I slept with her. We might conceive a child.”
Fury flashed in Laurel’s bloodshot eyes. She bared her teeth in a snarl. “Congratulations, Briar. I’m sure Cornelian will be pleased to hear you’ve finally come through on your end.”
Her words a gut punch, I staggered into the table and toppled over my chair, taking it with me to the floor. Numb, I sat there with one leg sprawled over the seat, staring at nothing.
You should’ve known, I thought, infuriated with myself.How could you let yourself fall for it?
When would Briar have had time to set up the cabin? To go into my tent, retrieve my clothes, and bring them to the cabin? He’d been with me for damn near the entire festival. The cozy fire, the neatly made bed, the basket of fruit, the pitcher of water—
Besides the toiletries, the whole fucking cabin had Aunt Aylie stamped all over it.
I didn’t realize Briar had returned until he touched my arm. “What happened?” He knelt to my aid. “Are you all right?”
