Heir to a Fallen Star

Chapter 25

Kaelen is leaning back against the heavy wooden post of the bed frame, his arms folded across his broad chest. He hasn’t taken his eyes off you for a single second. The steam from the bath is still dissipating into the cool morning air, and he’s just standing there, a slow, incredibly lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watches your fingers weave through the leather laces of your boots.

“Can I help you?”

At your teasing question, his smirk only widens, his moss-green eyes darkening with amusement.

"Help me?" he rumbles, his gravelly voice dropping into that low, vibrating register that makes your skin prickle with heat. "No, Red. I'm doing just fine right where I am."

He shifts his weight, his gaze deliberately traveling down the line of your back, tracking the way your golden hair falls over your shoulders before locking back onto your eyes.

"I'm just admiring the view," he murmurs, a dangerous, playful glint in his eyes as he steps away from the post and takes a slow, deliberate step toward you. "And wondering if a hearty breakfast is really enough to get you down those stairs, or if I'm going to have to carry you."

Your melodic laugh cuts through the cool air of the room as you finish tying your boot lace. Standing up with a playful toss of your golden hair, you bridge the distance between you in a few confident strides.

"Oh, I'm ready to head down those stairs," you purr, stopping right in front of his massive frame. You reach up, your fingers wrapping cheekily under his jaw to tilt his chin up, forcing his intense moss-green eyes to lock directly onto yours. "I think it's you who would rather keep me up here."

Kaelen doesn't pull away. Instead, he lets out a low, rough growl, his eyes darkening as a dangerous, devastatingly handsome smirk spreads across his lips.

"You think you're pretty clever, don't you, Red?" he rumbles, his voice vibrating right against your fingertips.

Before you can step back, his large, calloused hands shoot out, catching you by the waist and pulling you flush against his solid chest. He leans down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers with a wicked promise, "You're lucky that stomach of yours is roaring, because if we didn't need to feed you, I'd lock that door and prove you absolutely right."

He breaks away with a low chuckle, giving your hip a playful, possessive squeeze before finally letting you go.

"Alright." he says, gesturing toward the heavy timber door with an amused grin. "Lead the way. Let's go see what Maeve cooked up before I change my mind."

You glide down the creaking wooden staircase with a newfound confidence, your steps light and practically bouncing with a skip. The morning sun catches the gold in your hair, and your beaming smile could light up the entire tavern.

"Good morning, Maeve!" you call out, your voice ringing clear over the quiet murmur of the common room.

Behind the heavy oak bar, Maeve stops wiping down a tankard. The knowing, amused wink from earlier is completely gone, replaced by an expression that is decidedly less impressed. It clicks in your mind instantly: that wink upstairs hadn't been shared camaraderie at all; it was Maeve trying to throw you off guard, testing your modesty.

But you aren't playing by her rules today.

"A wonderful morning, is it not?" you continue cheerfully, leaning against the edge of the bar with effortless grace. "This inn is absolutely wonderful. So cozy, in fact, that I think we will be keeping the room another night."

Maeve’s eyes widen in genuine shock. For a split second, her professional mask slips, and she tries—and utterly fails—to cover a deeply irritated frown. Extra nights mean extra laundry, extra noise, and clearly, a stark reminder that her attempts to fluster you have completely backfired.

Behind you, a heavy, familiar step hits the bottom of the stairs.

Kaelen steps into the common room, his massive frame practically filling the space. He catches the tail end of your conversation, and a slow, incredibly wicked smirk spreads across his rugged face. He doesn't say a word; he just walks up right behind you, placing a heavy, possessive hand on the small of your back, his moss-green eyes locked onto the flustered innkeeper.

Maeve clears her throat roughly, slamming the tankard down a little harder than necessary.

"Another night, is it?" she muttered, her voice tight as she avoids looking directly at the sheer, radiant glow on your face. "I suppose... room four is yours until tomorrow morning, then. I'll get your breakfast."

As she scurries off toward the kitchen, Kaelen leans down, his chest vibrating with a low, silent chuckle right against your shoulder. "You are completely terrifying when you want to be, Red," he murmurs playfully. "I love it."

You look up at Kaelen, wide-eyed, blinking with absolute, pristine innocence.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," you say, your voice smooth and sweet as honey, though the corners of your mouth twitch dangerously as you fight to suppress the massive grin wanting to leap onto your face.

Kaelen lets out a low, rough rumble of laughter, the sound vibrating through the hand still resting warmly against the small of your back. He shakes his head, his moss-green eyes crinkling with endless amusement as he sees right through your little act.

"Oh, absolutely. Pure as the driven snow," he rumbles sarcastically, leaning down just enough so his shoulder bumps yours as he guides you toward an empty wooden booth near the hearth. "You just happened to break the sternest innkeeper in the valley with nothing but a smile and a room renewal. Remind me never to get on your bad side, Iris."

He slides into the bench across from you, his massive frame making the sturdy wooden seat look small. He folds his forearms on the table, leaning in with a wicked, entirely captivated smirk.

"But if you're going to play the innocent maiden," he murmurs, his eyes gleaming in the firelight, "you might want to control that smile, Red. It's giving you away."

Before you can fire back another witty reply, the kitchen door swings open, and Maeve returns balancing a massive, heavy cast-iron skillet loaded with steaming eggs, thick slices of sizzling bacon, and fresh, crusty bread. She sets it down between you two with a sharp nod, still looking a little stiff.

"Eat up," she mutters. "Sounds like you two used up a lot of... energy."

The moment Maeve turns her back to walk away, Kaelen catches your eye across the table, his shoulders shaking with a silent, helpless laugh as he reaches for a piece of bread.

Maeve stops dead in her tracks. The sheer, radiant happiness radiating from you—paired with Kaelen’s devastatingly soft, possessive gaze—finally snaps the last thread of her professional restraint. A toxic, venomous jealousy oozes to the surface, twisting her features into a sharp, nasty sneer.

Because for Maeve, Room Four wasn't just a vacant space on a ledger.

She turns around slowly, her boots clicking sharply against the floorboards. The stiff awkwardness is gone, replaced by a cold, calculating malice. She wants to hurt you. She wants to watch that pristine, confident smile completely vanish from your face, and she knows exactly what weapon to use.

"You know," Maeve purrs, her voice dropping into a sharp, mocking drawl that cuts through the quiet tavern air, "I gave you that room for a reason. I thought it was only fitting."

She steps closer to the table, leaning her hands on the edge, her eyes locked onto yours with a cruel gleam. She deliberately avoids looking at Kaelen, pouring all her venom straight at you.

"That bed you two spent all night in? Kaelen knows it well. Very well, in fact," she says, a nasty, triumphant smirk spreading across her lips. "Though, when I was under him in Room Four, he didn't stick around to whisper sweet nothings or fetch me a bath. I woke up completely alone in that drafty room, and he was nowhere to be seen. Just a coin on the nightstand."

She straightens up, crossing her arms as she delivers the final blow, desperate to make you feel like you're just another passing fancy in a long line of tavern flings. "He might be playing the doting gentleman today, sweetheart, but don't get too comfortable. Room Four has seen it all before."

The silence that hits the tavern is sudden and suffocatingly heavy.

Across the table, the air around Kaelen turns instantly, terrifyingly sub-zero. The silent amusement completely drains from his face, replaced by a dark, lethal stillness. His jaw tightens so hard the muscle leaps, and his moss-green eyes freeze into shards of ice as he slowly begins to rise from his seat.

The world crashes down around you in a deafening, suffocating silence.

The happiness that had filled your chest just seconds ago drains out completely, leaving a cold, hollow void. A heavy knot pits itself deep in your stomach, making you feel violently sick and intensely hot all at once. Every inch of your skin tingles in the worst way possible. Instinct takes over—the deeply ingrained defensive barriers you've built over years of survival snap into place. You don't think. You don't speak.

While Kaelen is rising from his seat, his lethal focus entirely locked onto a suddenly pale Maeve, you move. Within seconds, you are up from the bench. You push past the heavy tavern door and step out into the biting mountain air, moving faster than you ever have before.

You flee.