Earth Shaker: A Fire Heart Novella (The Fire Heart Chronicles) Page 8
I glanced at the back through the rearview mirror. Only a patch of the lion’s white mane was visible from here. He was either sleeping, or lying around.
I let out a sigh. “All I want is a hot shower, hot food, and a warm bed.”
A low chuckle shook his chest. “Me too.” He spared me another glance. “Are you okay, though?”
That was a tricky question.
I shrugged again. “Right at this moment, yes.” I felt it though, all the emotions, all the rage, the fear, the sorrow, the pain, and the horror snaking their way in the back of my mind and chest, waiting for an opportunity to explode inside me and break me down for real. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes at him. “Are you okay?”
“We’ll all have some healing to do, but …” One corner of his lips curled up. He lifted our joined hands to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the top of my hand. “You’re with me, so I’m okay.”
His words were cheesy, but they warmed my hurting heart.
One thing that would always hurt, and I didn’t think I would even understand, was how Wesh was able to sell us out so easily. I … I tried putting myself in his place. If the alchemists had Marko and offered me a deal, I would have wanted to take it, but I knew, I knew deep in my heart that Marko would have never forgiven me for me. And my father, if he had known, would make sure I didn’t accept any deals from alchemists—even at the expense of his son’s life.
It all hurt.
Another hour on the road and we arrived at the address Theron had given us. Like he had said, the place looked like a friendly ranch. We were parking the SUV when three figures exited the main house. Two middle-aged men and an older woman with a long, gray braid.
We exited the SUV and they walked up to us.
“Hello,” one of the man said. “I’m Neil, Bellville’s rom baro. I believe you met my son, Jaime.” He shook our hands then he gestured to the man beside him. “This is my brother, Dolan. Theron and Ramon are his sons.” Dolan greeted us with the same warmth and strength. “And this is our daj, Sheila.”
“Hello, dears,” she said with a kind smile. “I bet you’re tired and hungry. I’ve prepared supper for you. Come inside with us.” She gestured for us to follow.
“Wait,” I said. “Hm … we have a white lion in the back.”
“Right,” Dolan said. “Theron told us about that. I’ll call one of the warriors to take and feed him.” After a quick dip of his chin, Dolan turned and walked into the house.
“Now that that is solved,” Sheila said. She gestured to the front door again. “Shall we?”
After exchanging nervous glances with Rye and Nico, I followed her inside. The house was as bright and cozy on the inside as the outside. It was still tzigane, Romani, with lots of beads and colorful patterns, and yellow and light orange walls, but it had a more modern tone to it, with sleek furniture and lots of electronics.
The smell of cinnamon and bread and apple flooded my nose moments before we emerged in the dining area where a long table waited for us with lots of warm, yummy food.
“Please, sit down,” Sheila said, gesturing to the table.
Neil, Dolan, and Sheila joined us at the table.
Rye sat beside me. This time, I was the one in need of touching him, to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I reached for his hand. He captured my fingers and squeezed tight.
Smiling, Neil lifted a glass of orange juice, and said, “You don’t have to worry and be afraid anymore. You’re home now.”
Sheila raised her coffee mug and offered a similar smile to us. “Welcome to Bellville.”
And for the first time in I didn’t even know how many days, I allowed myself to relax and forget my problems.
Because I was at my new home now.
Home at Bellville with my new family.
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While USA Today Bestselling Author Juliana Haygert dreams of being Wonder Woman, Buffy, or a blood elf shadow priest, she settles for the less exciting—but equally gratifying—life as a wife, a mother, and an author. Thousands of miles away from her former home in Brazil, she now resides in North Carolina and spends her days writing about kick-ass heroines and the heroes who drive them crazy.
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