A Savior's Worth (Book #3)

Chapter Fifty-Eight

"Ellie! Ellie, please!" Eldon continuously called her from behind. Elouise refused to turn around or stop. She had one focus, and she would not allow him to change her mind.

As they descended the stairs, she crumbled the note tightly in her grasp, resisting the urge to burn it. She was halfway down when Eldon gently grabbed her by the arm. Elouise pulled it free, determined to keep going, except he then leaped in front of her. When she tried to go around him, he held her still, and their eyes locked, which was precisely what she'd wanted to avoid. Those dark eyes of his—wide and pure, always giving her warmth and security. Always making her weak.

Elouise threw his hands off her and looked down.

"Please don't shut me out, Ellie," he whispered.

"I, I have to go speak with someone," she replied, as firmly as she could muster.

"Talk to me, Ellie."

"I told you not to call me that anymore. We are not anything."

"Stop lyin' to yerself."

Elouise glared at him. "This is what you wanted."

"No, it ain't. The words came out wrong. I want us to be friends." Then he quickly shook his head. "No. No, I don't wanna just be yer friend, but it's the best for now. That's what I meant."

Elouise rolled her eyes and lightly pushed him back, barely moving him. "Why do you get to be the one to decide that?" she asked, though she didn't bother waiting for his response. She walked around him and hurried the rest of the way down.

She slipped into the corridor to her right and pressed her back against the stone wall. "Be brave," she whispered, inhaling shakily. "Be brave." And then, she checked both ways before teleporting herself to the town inn.

Elouise appeared near the stables and was thankful no one was around. She glossed around her surroundings, recalling a rainy night when she'd come here. Eldon had been attending to Snow, his blonde hair sticking to his forehead as the droplets came down harder. Elouise quickly pushed the memory aside and made her way to the entrance of the building. She walked in and spotted the owner behind the counter.

The man glanced up from whatever he'd been reading and beamed at her. "Your Highness!" He rushed around the counter and bowed. "To what do I owe this honor to?"

Elouise nervously looked at the stairs. She prayed Udolf was still here. "Darwyn, was it?"

He grinned delightfully in response. Elouise moved her hands behind her back, subtly playing with her ring.

"I was wondering if you could tell me the room of one of your patrons?"

"Ah, which one, Your Highness?"

"Udolf Winslow."

Darwyn's smile faltered slightly, though he successfully revived it after a beat. "Are you certain, Highness?"

"Yes, I am, Darwyn. I must speak with Lord Udolf about..." she paused, taking another deep breath. "About a few matters."

Darwyn evidently remained hesitant, but he nodded and headed behind the counter. He retrieved a notebook and flipped through it, then tapped his finger on a certain spot. "Ah, yes. He is in room twelve, Your Highness."

Elouise glanced at the stairs again. She could change her mind—there was still time. She could return to the castle and give into her desires to be in Eldon's arms, allowing him to soothe away her woes as he always did.

But no.

No.

She could do this. She needed answers, and she did not care what it took to finally get them from Udolf.