The Chalice of Nightmares (Lorcan fanfiction)

Chapter 4

Seraphin kept quiet during the two days she and Lorcan trekked through the eastern edges of Oakwald, heading for the plains beyond. Despite the pressing questions swirling within her, she refrained from voicing them to Lorcan, allowing him to perceive her as a naive girl, beholden to him for his rescue. Yet, in moments of quiet observation, she noticed his gaze lingering upon her, as though he were piecing together a puzzle. She was unaware if he had already solved the mystery behind her lineage, but she could only hope he remained the oblivious brute she thought him to be.

He'd quickly forgotten that though he'd carried her out, she'd saved herself, had slayed an ilken by herself. Seraphin couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration whenever she reminisced about the precise instant when the loathsome creature's head toppled to the ground. It was a reminder, if any were needed, that she was far from being out of practice.

Lorcan had accepted her name without question. It was the name of the healer that had tended to her wounds whenever the bitch's little torture sessions became too much. Seraphin had even made up a little saga of being a dutiful citizen, driven by righteousness to aid her queen in whatever manner possible against the blight that had claimed her homeland. And in his ignorance, Lorcan had believed that too.

She had yet to find out why Lorcan was hunting her, but she had kept her mouth shut to prevent him from asking questions in turn. But what she needed to find out was why Maeve had ordered Lorcan to go to Morath. She wondered if Lorcan knew who she was to his mistress, wondered if Maeve was the reason he was hunting her in the first place. And this arrangement—whatever it was, was simply a ruse to lead Seraphin right to her doorstep. But if that was truly the case...Seraphin would slit the warrior's throat before he even had the chance to betray her.

She thought it would be best to trust his information about Celaena Sardothien's whereabouts, being one of Maeve's blood-sworn meant he no doubt had a network of spies working all around the world. But something had nagged at her whenever she thought of how surprised he had looked though he'd tried to hide it—when she'd mentioned Celaena Sardothien and Aelin Galathynius.

Seraphin had no doubt the warrior was keeping secrets of his own. Despite his assurances of protection, she couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that once he gleaned the answers he sought, that safeguard would evaporate like morning mist. She wracked her memory, recalling every detail whenever Lorcan would inquire about Morath's layout, she had tried her best to remember all that she had seen. She had spent only a few weeks in Morath until she and Elide had escaped.

As much as Seraphin hated to admit it—she needed Lorcan. She might have killed that ilken without any help, but if the others had joined in...She didn't like to think what that meant for her fate. So she gladly accepted Lorcan's protection, that is until she could find a way to protect herself. Find a way to free her powers from the shackles of her own making.

But she still slept soundly these last two nights—thanks to the belly full of food courtesy of Lorcan's scavenging. He'd looked at her like she'd grown two heads when she told him she was a vegetarian. Alas when she'd devoured all of her food in minutes, he'd given her half of what was left of his. She hadn't bothered being polite by refusing.

As midmorning unfolded, casting a brighter hue upon the forest and infusing the air with a newfound freshness, the distant roar of the mighty Acanthus heralded their approach. Lorcan forged ahead with a predatory grace, Seraphin could have sworn even the trees leaned away from him as he raised a hand in a silent command to halt. Seraphin complied, lingering within the shadows of the trees, her heart racing with a mixture of apprehension and hope. She silently pleaded with fate that Lorcan wouldn't force them to retreat back into the labyrinthine depths of Oakwald, praying fervently that she wouldn't be denied this crucial step toward the beckoning expanse of the bright, wide-open world beyond.