Claimed By Fire And Crown

Chapter 11

The farther we walked, the quieter everything became.

The scattered buildings eventually thinned into long stretches of dark road and empty land, the noise from the town fading until the only sounds left were our footsteps and the occasional rustle of wind through the trees beyond the fence line. My legs had started to ache somewhere along the way, the tension from the last several hours settling heavily into my muscles now that I wasn’t actively running for my life.

Rhaegar still hadn’t said much.

Not that I expected him to.

He walked beside me at the same steady pace he’d kept all night, never rushing, never seeming affected by the distance. Every now and then his attention would shift—not to me, but outward, toward the road ahead or the woods lining it, like he was listening for something I couldn’t hear.

I noticed every time.

“You do that a lot,” I said eventually, breaking the silence as we crossed another stretch of uneven pavement.

His gaze stayed forward. “Do what?”

“Look around like you’re expecting something to jump out of the dark.”

A faint pause followed before he answered. “Something already did.”

I frowned slightly at that, glancing away before I could react too obviously. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes.”

That was all he said.

I let out a quiet breath through my nose, somewhere between irritation and exhaustion, then rubbed at my wrist absentmindedly as we kept moving. The skin where the Butcher had grabbed me was still sore. Not badly, but enough that I couldn’t stop noticing it.

Rhaegar’s eyes flicked down briefly.

“You’re hurt.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’m fine.”

His gaze lingered for half a second longer before lifting again. “You bruise easily.”

Something about the comment made my shoulders tighten. “Sorry if that’s inconvenient.”

“It wasn’t criticism.”

I looked away, instantly annoyed with myself for reacting at all. The night had worn me thin in ways I didn’t want to admit, and every conversation with him felt like stepping into something uneven. He said things too directly, noticed too much, and somehow managed to sound calm while doing it.

I wasn’t used to that.

Ahead, the road curved slightly before disappearing into a thicker line of trees. I slowed as I noticed the narrow path cutting off beside it, barely visible unless you were looking for it. Rhaegar stepped toward it without hesitation.

“This way,” he said.

I stopped moving.

The path disappeared deep enough into the woods that I couldn’t see where it ended, shadows swallowing most of it beyond the first few yards. Cold air drifted through the trees, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine.

“That looks inviting,” I muttered.

Rhaegar glanced back at me. “You can stay on the road if you want.”

The way he said it made it obvious he already knew I wouldn’t.

I stared at him for a second before pushing off into the path anyway, brushing past low branches as I followed him into the trees. The ground beneath my feet softened almost immediately, dirt replacing pavement as the sounds from the road faded behind us.

The woods felt different here.

Not like pack territory. Not watched in the same suffocating way. The air was colder, cleaner somehow, and the deeper we walked, the more I realized there were no scent markers anywhere. No signs of wolves. No warnings carved into trees.

Nothing claiming the land.

“You live out here?” I asked quietly as I ducked under another branch.

“For now.”

That answer told me absolutely nothing.

I stepped over a root jutting through the ground and glanced ahead, trying to see through the darkness between the trees. “You always answer questions like that?”

“Yes.”

I stared at the back of his head in disbelief before a tired laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “You’re impossible.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m sure.”

The corner of his mouth shifted slightly—not a smile, not fully, but enough that I noticed it before he looked forward again.

That unsettled me more than it should have.

The path widened suddenly a few minutes later, opening into a clearing tucked deep between the trees. My steps slowed automatically as my gaze lifted.

A house stood near the far edge.

Not huge. Not some massive territory compound like I expected from someone like him. It was built mostly from dark wood and stone, tucked low against the landscape like it belonged there instead of being forced into it. Warm light spilled from a few windows, soft against the darkness surrounding it.

I stopped without meaning to.

Rhaegar noticed immediately.

“What?” he asked.

“I just…” My gaze moved over the house again before settling back on him. “I expected something different.”

“Like what?”

I shrugged slightly. “Something larger. More dramatic.”

A quiet huff of amusement escaped him as he stepped toward the house again. “That sounds exhausting.”

I followed a second later, my attention still drifting over everything around us. The clearing was calm, almost unnaturally so after the night I’d had. No guards. No patrols. No sounds except the wind moving through the trees overhead.

“You’re alone here?” I asked.

“For the moment.”

Again with the answers that weren’t answers.

The wooden steps creaked softly beneath our weight as we approached the front door. Up close, the house looked older than I first thought, the wood worn smooth in places, the stone darkened with age and weather. There was nothing flashy about it.

It felt lived in.

Rhaegar opened the door and stepped aside enough for me to enter first.

I hesitated.

Not because I thought he’d force me inside. Somehow, I’d already figured out he wouldn’t. The hesitation came from something else entirely—the realization that stepping through that door changed things.

Not forever.

Probably.

But enough.

“You can still leave,” he said quietly from behind me.

I turned slightly, searching his face for any sign he didn’t mean it.

I didn’t find one.

That should have made the decision easier.

Instead, it made my chest tighten strangely.

I looked back toward the dark woods behind us, then toward the warmth spilling from inside the house. My body already knew which direction it wanted before my mind caught up.

Just for tonight.

That was the agreement.

I exhaled slowly and stepped inside.

Warmth wrapped around me almost immediately, softer than the heavy heat of the bar, carrying the faint scent of cedar and smoke. The space inside was quiet, dimly lit, the furniture simple but solid. A fire burned low in the stone fireplace across the room, its light flickering against the walls.

My shoulders loosened before I could stop them.

Rhaegar closed the door behind us, the sound low and final.

For the first time since I ran from home, I didn’t feel like I was bracing for someone to grab me.

That realization hit harder than it should have.

And somehow…

I wasn’t sure what to do with it.