The thumping of the horses hooves were the only thing that could be heard in the forest ground, Serena held her breath as she rode on. She lamented within herself, how had she stayed asleep for so long. The priestess was nowhere to be found, she had left Serena all alone.
She mused that the Moonseeker had done it on purpose, after all the temples of Lunara are said to be one of the safest places for werewolves in all of Kaldora. Serena had not wasted another breatha and she had mounted the horse quickly and rode on to the castle. The sun had risen now and the paths looked different from how they did under the moonlight.
It took her some time but once the jutting points of the castle had appeared she knew she had found herself on the right track. Straight on she rode to the stables, as fast as the stubby mare would take her.
She turned around slowly to see Darius standing and watching her. His hair looked dishevelled and out out of place like he had just rolled out of bed. Her eyes light up when he referred to her as ’my lady.’ She did not mind the fact that there were people moving around so that would have been the reason why he addressed her as such.
She looked down briefly and sighed, he was angry whatsoever. She tried to hide the smile that pulled at her lips. He really had looked around the castle for her.
"Did you truly search the whole castle?" She asked with a guilty tone.
"I considered turning it to rubble," he muttered.
She laughed. Darius exhaled at the sound. "Come," he said, quieter this time. "I would show you something."
He offered his arm, and she took it, fingers brushing the sleeve of his doublet. They walked in step, Darius nodding briefly to a pair of guards who stood nearby. They did not speak for a while as they passed the courtyard and deeper into the interior corridors of the keep.
He eventually led her down a corridor she had not seen before, arched and quiet, its tapestries aged, the air cool. "This wing is rarely used," he said. "Most find it dull. I suppose it is, unless you have a liking for old things."
"You mean dusty scrolls and dead men’s stories?" she teased.
Darius grinned. "Precisely."
He opened a thick wooden door with some effort, revealing a long room lined with towering shelves, cabinets, and old crates stacked with papers. The scent of wax, parchment, and time clung to the air. There were tables, ink-stained and scattered with journals, and the soft trickling sound of a fountain nearby, an odd feature for an archive, but not unwelcomed.
"The Hawthorne archives," he said. "From before even my great-grandfather’s time and even before his great-grandfather."
Serena stepped further inside. The room had a strange sort of charm, with a funny disarray of trinkets, colours, canvas and many more. She ran her fingers along a stack of leather-bound books and looked over her shoulder. "You bring all your guests here?"
"Only the ones I think might not yawn before I finish a sentence."
"Then I am honoured," she murmured.
He laughed, pulling a dusty scroll from a shelf and opening it, then setting it aside. "When I was a boy, my grandfather used to bring me here to read the family annals. I did not care for them at the time. But there was one tale I begged to hear again and again."
She tilted her head, intrigued.
He leaned against the table, arms crossed. "There was a reflecting pool in the western forests, long since filled in now. It gave the illusion of being shallow, but it was terribly deep. He was trying to impress a young woman and ended up tumbling straight into it, cloak and all. Thought he was going to drown. Swore he saw Lunara’s face under the surface."
Serena burst out laughing. "Did she marry him?"
"Sadly, no. She married his brother instead."
She was still laughing as she leaned against the shelf beside him. "That is awful."
"Tragic," Darius agreed solemnly. "But he said it taught him never to trust still water or wide eyes."
She smiled, then her expression softened. "You loved him, your grandfather."
He nodded. "Very much."
There was a long silence between them, one filled not with discomfort but with the weight of unsaid thoughts. Serena traced the edge of the table, then looked up to find Darius already watching her.
"I know it’s not much," he said lowly, "but when you disappeared, I... I thought perhaps I had done something. Or failed to do enough."
Her throat tightened. "You have done more than enough, Darius." ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel⦿fire.net
His gaze lingered on her, earnest and searching. "Then why do you always look like you are about to vanish?"
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really. Not without speaking of things buried too deeply. She turned slightly, breaking eye contact, her pulse thudding behind her ears.
"I stay," she whispered, "because I want to."
He stepped closer, enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. "Then stay, Serena. And let me—"
He didn’t finish. She turned toward him at the same time he leaned in, and suddenly, the gap was gone.
Their lips met, soft and uncertain at first, and then something more. It was not fierce or desperate, it was the kind of kiss that took its time. When they broke apart, Serena’s breath caught, and her fingers curled gently into the sleeve of his coat.
"You will never find that in the archives," she murmured, eyes half-lidded.
"No," Darius said, voice husky. "But I suspect it will be the only thing I will remember tonight."
Serena looked down, biting her lip, heart fluttering like i had not in so long. Outside the wind stirred faintly, whistling through the stone arches. But in here, it was quiet and safe.
"Shall we read more stories?" she asked.
He smirked. "I’ve already found my favourite one."
And for once, she did not feel the need to run.