The Toad Prince

Chapter Twelve

Sorin drifted on the waking edge of a deep sleep, wondering why back was killing him and his ass was as numb as it had ever been. When someone shifted in his arms, his eyes flew open.

The village. The tiny closet.

It all rushed back to him in a wave, and he glanced down at his chest. A lopsided smile lifted one side of his lips. Nadaria was still asleep on his chest, drooling a little on his shirt, it seemed.

He stared at her, expecting to feel the usual awful way he did after he had to share the story of the night he lost Crina, but he didn’t. He felt… light. Good. His heart beat with a little less pain today. She’d done something at the end of the conversation—taken some of the burden—and he frowned, noting the dark circles under her eyes, and the lines of tension bracketing them.

She shivered, so he wrapped her own cloak around her like a blanket and squeezed her tighter. He wished with everything he had that he could return the warmth she was giving him… that he wasn’t so cold.

Sorin picked dried leaves and small pieces of roof thatching out of her hair. Nadaria was a crazy woman, to come here alone, but he knew her heart and her intentions lay purely in freeing him and the others from this hell.

She was too kind, and that scared him.

Crina had been too kind.

But Nadaria was not Crina at all. She was bold and outspoken and fearless. Sassy. He had a feeling she would kick major ass if she had her magic.

Had he found his salvation in her?

Her brows knitted in her sleep, and she pushed closer to him, nuzzling her head into his neck. He couldn’t help but smile again and rest his cheek on the wild curls on top of her head.

Sorin allowed his thoughts to calm, and listened to the soft lift and fall of her breath, feeling as close to peace as he had for as long as he could remember.

After some time, she stirred, and he felt a little strike of sadness. He would’ve happily stayed there in that musty crawl space with a numb ass for the rest of his life if he got to hold her like this. Reality beyond the tiny door was not nearly as appealing.

“Sorin?” she said, leaning up with a start.

A soft smile pulled at the corners of his mouth when she looked at him. Feeling her cheek, a sheepish grin lit her face, and she wiped at her face. Gods, had anything more adorable ever existed?

“Sorry about the drool shower.”

“It is okay. My ass may never recover from sitting here all night, though.”

She pursed her lips, then as if she couldn’t stop herself, a coy smile lit her face. “Do you need someone to check that over for you? I volunteer, if you do.”

His eyebrows lifted at the implication of being naked in front of her, and he wasn’t sure a vampire could blush until that moment. Speechless, he could only chuckle. Bold was an excellent word for her.

Nadaria pulled his shirt aside, checking where he’d been harmed. The wound was completely healed, and he grabbed her hand.

“I am okay. Don’t worry.”

She pushed her hand flat into his and then laced their fingers. He watched, swallowing hard, and found the courage to meet her eyes with his. The soft brown pools were like cages, holding him captive, and the tension between them was different now, warm and heavy. Thick with desire.

It was not what he expected after last night, but then again, he hadn’t finished the story. Nadaria did not know who he was in the time after Crina’s death, and before Relia’s. Sorin was capable of things that shocked even him when he remembered them.

“Do you think it’s safe to get out of here?” he muttered, feeling like he needed to escape before she chipped away anymore at the wall around his heart.

“I don’t know.”

Nadaria cracked the door open, checking the basement of the mill.

“There’s at least twenty out there. I don’t think they can get back up and out.”

He leaned forward and looked. The undead stood around in disarray, not pursuing them. Sorin didn’t think they could see in the dark.

Gently closing the door again, he whispered, “If we’re quiet, we can sneak out.”

“Okay.”

Nadaria gathered the leather bag, rolling it tightly on itself to hold the tinkling jars still. He let her go first and followed close behind with his hand on her lower back. He fought hard to suppress the groan of relief as blood rushed back to his legs. They hugged the wall, their footsteps blessedly silent on the soft dirt floor.

Sorin lifted her out of the hole he fell through, and she crawled out of the mill on hands and knees to distribute her weight evenly and prevent another fall through the floor. He pulled himself out and leapt the ten-foot section of decaying floor between him and the doorway.

“Show off,” she whispered, and he gave her a sly smile.

Sorin looked back at the gaping floor. Maybe they should’ve trapped them all down there, or somewhere else. He and the others hadn’t ever thought of solutions for them. They just didn’t leave the grounds of the castle. They couldn’t face the undead, so they ignored them. But if they trapped them all somewhere, maybe the forest could support some life again.

“I came through the woods,” she said, pointing to the spot she’d emerged from.

He clicked his tongue. “You are a crazy woman. The road is much easier.”

Sorin indicated the rain soaked incline, and she arched her brow. “It looks muddy.” She looked down at her shoes, and her face pinched. “You owe me new shoes, buddy.”

“It’s not my fault you wore them on a nature hike. They’re in better shape than your dress, at least.”

Her pink dress and cloak were torn and plastered with mud. She sighed, studying the skirt.

“Why do I look like crap, covered in dirt with torn clothes, and you’re there in your ripped shirt looking like some romance novel cover?”

Sorin looked down. She’d torn his white shirt, so it was in a deep V to just above his belly button, and swipes of mud covered his bare chest. He smirked up at her.

“Well, I think you look like a dream in dirty, ripped clothes,” he said, and she blushed, her eyes darting away from him.

Nadaria turned, starting up the steep incline out of the village, and hopping around to avoid the deeper mud. He followed, watching her. Part of him feared this was all a dream—that she was a figment of his own imagination, and he would wake up alone to find she never existed—and part of him hoped that was true. It would be awful, but he wouldn’t face these impossible decisions about her.

The sun blessed the day with its strength, pushing away the normal overcast, and it was a little uncomfortable. He didn’t burn up in the sun. Relia had ensured he couldn’t end his own suffering with death, but the rays still felt too hot on his skin.

Sorin moved closer to the edge of the road, so the trees could spare him with their long morning shadows. But Nadaria danced in the light, smiling up at the burning orb like she was in love, and removing her cloak to shove into the leather bag.

After a while, she returned to him. The dark bags under her eyes were gone, and she looked as bright as the day. They walked together on the edge of the shadows, him in the dark and her in the sun.

“I can tell you now… the rest of the story,” he mumbled, feeling like he should.

“No. Not right now on such a beautiful morning. Later, okay?”

Nadaria wasn’t ready to hear the rest yet. Her heart was still processing what he’d told her, and she sensed he felt lighter today. She wanted him to enjoy that feeling for as long as he could.

Her eyes slid sideways to look at him, and she grabbed his hand with hers again. Surprise flashed in his eyes, but his fingers intertwined with hers, and her heart twirled like a ballerina in her chest.

Sorin looked out into the trees, confused and overwhelmed. He watched for the undead, determined they wouldn’t be stealing this bright pink light that pushed away the dark.

She gasped, and said, “Oh no.”

He whipped his eyes forward, trying to pull her behind him, but stopped. A red deer doe lay dead in the road, gut and throat ripped open and eaten on by the undead.

Sorin studied Nadaria, and she frowned with her bottom lip pushed out.

“Nothing survives these woods,” he said. “She must have wandered through and gotten caught by them.”

“Poor thing.”

He knelt by the doe and touched her nose. It was still warm, barely, and Sorin shot to his feet.

“We need to move. They could be close.”

To his dismay, she was wandering into the tree line.

“Hey,” he hissed, following her. “Do you have a death wish or what?”

But she ignored him—shocker—and continued deeper into the forest. He walked right behind her, eyes darting for threats. Sorin was so absorbed by their surroundings that he walked right into her when she stopped.

He grabbed her to keep her from falling and peered around her. Another red deer, a small doe. She still had some of her fawn spots, her adult coat not fully grown yet.

“It’s her baby,” Nadaria said, and he nodded.

“She’s hurt badly.”

The little doe’s front left leg was mangled and bloody. Torn apart. But she’d escaped. She was curled into a ball, and small, rapid breaths pushed her chest up and down.

“Do you want me to… stop her suffering?” he asked, sad for Nadaria. The world was so unfair.

But she spun and shook her head. “Carry her back.”

“To the house?”

Nadaria knelt by the doe and stroked her fur.

“Yes. I know a young man that will take excellent care of her.”

“Codi?”

She nodded.

“Okay,” he said, not sure the doe would survive.

But he scooped her in his arms, and she had more fight left than he expected. The doe thrashed, kicking him. Nadaria placed her hand on the deer’s head and she relaxed in his arms.

Sorin looked at the witch, astonished, and she gave him a small, shy smile.

“Codi needs this.”

“He does?”

“Yes. And I owe him one, I think.”

Sorin furrowed his brow. “You do?”

“He sent you yesterday, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” he said, understanding.

She nodded, and Sorin carried the doe home while she kept her hand on its head.

His heart was in a panic, beating fast as he stole looks at her the entire way.

What was he going to do with this beautiful woman?

“Will you eat dinner again with me tonight?” he blurted.

She glanced over at him and tilted her head, her lovely soft smile spreading across her face. “I would like that.”