Olethros

fifteen - freyja

I had to look down. The guilt swallowed me whole when I looked into his vengeful eyes. I'd ruined his life by asking for his help to find my own. He was betraying my brother. More than likely, he was lying to his face.

"Pack your stuff. We're leaving."

My eyes snapped to where Azriel now squatted by the food I'd left on the floor. I watched his hands work as he gathered the leftover and crumpled the canvas bag in his hand.

"Where?"

I don't know why I asked. Where else would I go? Azriel seemed to understand my thoughts because he ignored me, tossing the food onto the counter and tearing open the cabinet. I didn't watch as he began shoving the food into the bag. I went to the makeshift bed and gathered the blanket Azriel had bought me. I tucked the pillow under my arm and hugged the blanket to my chest as I walked back out. Azriel had both bags slung over his shoulder, the other full of my clothes.

I wanted to know if there would be a way I could wash them, or more clothes there, but there was no time for logistics. Azriel held his hand out, I gave him my arm, and we left. I hated the way it felt, travelling with him. It wasn't the same as winnowing. We had to move through the darkness for a few seconds before anything came clear. I knew we'd arrived when my bare feet suddenly felt icy and a wind whipped at my cloak. Azriel released my arm and marched up to the door. Despite the cold, I took a moment to glance around.

The cabin was small, flanked with two other tiny wooden buildings. Other than that, there was endless woods. I could hardly see the clouds and sun through the thick trees. I frowned at the hollow sensation deep in my belly and followed Azriel inside. It was comfortably warm, even without the fire going. There was a single lounge chaise and two armchairs, a small wooden table between them. To the left, I saw a small doorway that looked to lead into a corridor, and then a kitchen and dining table to the right. Quaint, small, and suffocating.

Azriel dropped my bags on the chaise and turned to me, crossing his arms. I gave him a wide berth as I moved to lay my pillow and blanket down. He didn't move his eyes from me.

"This cabin is charmed with magic just as the House of Wind is. Whatever you need, it'll happen. You will stay warm without the fire. Do not start a fire. Illyrians are still up there searching the mountains, the smoke with attract them. Do not light candles at night, keep the cabin as dark and unsuspecting as possible. There are three bedrooms, one bathing chamber. As long as you will it, you'll have endless clean and warm water."

I dropped my eyes to the wet spots my feet left on the smooth wood floor. It felt like goodbye, which, in turn, felt so foolish. Of course he would leave. I'd be alone, he'd be pretending to look for me. I wouldn't see my brother, mother, Mor, Cassian... I'd be alone until I was either caught or had been away long enough to find somewhere to live.

"Thank you. For everything, I mean," I muttered. Azriel cleared his throat as he shifted his weight. I took the chance to look up at him. I wanted to savor the face I'd been so enraptured by as a young girl. His beauty wasn't as terrifying anymore. I'd spent enough time around him to feel more comfortable, but it was still far more than we'd ever spoken to each other.

"I'll come back to check on you when I can. At this point, it may not be for more than a week. There is plenty of foods. Your mother stocked the pantry with broths and dried vegetables. You can make soup. There's things to make bread or anything like that. I'll be back when I can," Azriel responded. His eyes flashed to the kitchen and then back to me. My throat felt tight.

He stepped forward, towards the door, and I couldn't stop myself. I felt like a silly child with the way my arms wrapped around his waist. I didn't see Azriel touch people often, but I wanted to savor the last bit of contact with another before I was entirely alone. Azriel didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't speak. His hands hovered over my shoulders as I breathed him in. Finally, when the discomfort stretched to me, I let him go. He stepped back, brushing his gloved hands over his torso before turning away.

I wanted to fall apart when the door shut. I wanted to curl on the scratchy rug and scream until my throat was raw. Everything felt like a mistake but somehow right all at the same time. I didn't let myself fall apart, though. I gathered my bag of clothes, pillow, and blanket into my arms. I padded to the corridor, met with four doors. I opened the center one, seeing that it was a small bathing chamber with a basin and chamber pot. There were two doors on either side.

The bedroom at the far left was small, stuffed with one wardrobe and two beds. The one beside it was bigger with two beds, a vanity, and a wardrobe. On the other side of the bathing chamber, there was the largest room. It had two wardrobes, a vanity, and a massive bed. The scent of it told me that it was my mother's when she stayed with everyone.

My heart ached as I walked further in, laying the pillow and blanket down. I went to the wardrobe and began hanging the new clothing. My eyes scanned the variety of clothes already hung. They were not my mother's clothes, but my brother's. Warm, comfortable clothes that he'd wear if he wished to lounge. Oh, Gods. Tears stung my eyes and for the thousandth time in the past few days, I felt like a failure.

All of my efforts felt foolish. What plan did I have beyond hiding away? Death would be an easier escape. I should've chosen it when I first decided to run. I should've ran into the arms of death and let her hold me until the panic ceased and oblivion was all I felt. Instead, I ran into the arms of a male who seemed too familiar with death yet he would never grace me with that gift. He'd sooner send a dagger into his chest than watch my brother suffer the aftermath of me.

I gathered a pair of Rhys's soft pants and one of his thick tunics. I stripped myself of the cloak and the clothes from the market and replaced them with the scent of my brother. It was what I had left of him, and Mother, it wasn't enough. I already knew well enough that this time in solitude would drive me to insanity. I could feel it brewing in the back of my mind.

Snug in the warmth of my brother's scent, I padded back out to the kitchen. I opened all of the cupboards, the pantry, anything that would hide away secrets Rhys wouldn't want to be found. It wasn't a shock when I finally found the bottles of whiskey beneath the collection of rags in a bottom drawer.

As I fell back onto the chaise, staring at the empty hearth and listening to the snowy songbirds outside, I knew this cabin would be my end. The whiskey burned my throat with each swallow, though the peace of a silent mind welcomed me. It didn't matter if I drank myself to death, I had nothing to return to.