Diamond in the Rough - Vivienne Savage Page 0,17

say their glow will lead travelers to what they seek. We’re on the right path.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling immensely witty as her battle with sleep began to fail. “Brilliant.”

Xavier snorted in amusement before tugging her inside the hull. It was obvious many travelers used the forgotten ship as a resting place, and he noted there was a dusty blanket spread across what appeared to be a half-dug hole in the ground. Clearly whoever made the makeshift bed was trying to stay as cool as possible in the dry desert heat, attempting to surround their place of rest in the shaded area with cool sand. It looked like the perfect spot to take a nap.

In the opposite, far end of the hull was what appeared to be a small shrine to the lost people, a way for travelers to offer thanks for the refuge that had been left behind for them. It seemed it was almost customary to leave something in tribute and in turn they likely asked for safe travels through the foreign land. Rosalia groggily made note to remind Xavier to leave something before they left as she shrugged off her bag and crawled into the bed, happy to curl around her lover when he joined her.

Exhaustion finally successfully ensnared the woman as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, content to inhale the smoky oak and leather scent that seemed to be imprinted upon his skin. Strong arms surrounded Rosa, pulling her close.

“I adore you, Rosalia,” he whispered into her hair, but sleep had already dragged her down too far into the abyss to reply.

The next day was no easier, and they did not have the luck or the blessings from the gods to come across another way station. They escaped the heat that next early morning by cowering beneath wind-battered rock formations worn smooth and polished by the sand to a satin finish.

By the fifth day, Rosalia wondered if she would ever have the comfort of a bed again, or if she’d wander to her death in the dunes.

The day after that, they found nothing at all, and she took shelter beneath the lumbering form of the giant dragon instead, though Xavier radiated so much heat the only benefit was that the sun no longer blazed against her skin. His ragged breathing kept her awake, a reminder that contrary to his words, he had yet to recuperate completely from his ordeal. He masked it better while in his elven form. The desert stretched an infinite distance and their supplies ran dangerously low.

Only a day’s worth of water remained, and that was generous—it assumed Xavier took none for himself.

“What’s on your mind?” Xavier asked as they wandered under the widening moon. A star-filled sky glittered above them.

“Hm?”

“Your expression,” he said. “You appeared to be in deep thought.”

“I was thinking of what I’d give to have a bath right now.”

He chuckled. “And only that?”

Far more than a bath weighed on her mind, but she didn’t want to admit that she’d spent the last hour thinking of death and the likelihood of the elemental wraiths discovering them before they found the tribe.

“Maybe I was thinking about where we’d go when this was all said and done,” she said instead, infusing a lightheartedness into her voice she hadn’t been feeling. When Xavier cocked one dubious brow, she smiled. “And…the treehouse I bought.”

“What?” He blinked at her, thoroughly distracted from her morose mood.

“I bought a house,” she chirped lightly. “Nemuria sold it to me a few hours before the dive from the cliffside.”

Telling Xavier about the arboreal home was the very distraction she needed from the dark and dismal worries plaguing her mind. He listened without judgment as she described the previous homeowner and took no offense to her desires to live among people in the thick of the city.

“You’re not upset that I want a primary residence in Valanya?” Instead of the hoard designed by your ancestors and furnished by the parents you clearly loved?

“No. Not at all. I have numerous homes, Rosalia. Why shouldn’t you?”

They spent a while longer in idle discussion to pass the time, each word laced with hope and promise. Rosalia viewed it as a gilded light at the end of the tunnel.

Much later, during the darkest hours of the night, the landscape shifted from sand dunes to rising rock formations. The trail narrowed until they could no longer walk side by side, and split into four different pathways. They may as well have