Shadow's End (Elder Races #9)

No wonder the dog couldn’t stop growling, she thought. Unlike earlier, when he had been dressed in formal evening attire, now he looked comfortable, dangerous. If it weren’t for the kindness in his expression, she could very easily be frightened by this man too.

He gave her a small smile. “It’s been a long day and evening. It would be a mistake to show up at the manor in the middle of the night, feeling exhausted and out of focus. Neither Ferion nor Malphas are going to welcome our arrival. In fact, the exchange will probably get heated and unpleasant. As hard as it might be, we’ll take the time to eat, and if you think you might be able to sleep, I suggest we find a place that’s comfortable enough that you might be able to nap for an hour or so, or at the very least relax, until dawn.”

What he said made so much sense, and the prosaic, calm way in which he said it was even more compelling.

Dropping her hands, she grimaced. “You’re thinking about this much more clearly than I am. And you’re right, of course. Even if we take an hour or two, we’ve still arrived so much faster than I would have if I’d traveled here without you.”

“Shall I wake the innkeeper after all?” he asked. “Would you rest more comfortably in a bed?”

Searching his expression, she hesitated. It had been a long night for doing things she shouldn’t have done. She shouldn’t ask this of him either, but she wanted it so badly. Maybe she even needed it. It was too hard for her to tell, when the ache in her chest had become so sharp, so sweet.

She met his gaze. “I would feel better in the woods. If you would build me that campfire, I’d rather doze outside. Would you mind?”

All hint of a smile left his expression. If anything, his gaze grew deeper, more intent. “Never. I would love that too.”

The stable door creaked open just wide enough to let the boy and the dog slip inside. Hauling the door closed again, he turned to hand Graydon a parcel of food wrapped in a large handkerchief.

Graydon didn’t bother to check the contents. He could smell bread, cheese and chicken. Accepting the parcel, he gave the boy a nod in thanks.

When Bel opened a small, black leather purse and pulled out a few coins, the boy’s eyes widened and began to shine.

“Thank you for everything.” She handed him the money.

“Yes, my lady. Thank you, my lady.” Falling silent, he stared at the coins in his palm.

One corner of Graydon’s mouth lifted. He murmured to her, “I believe that’s our cue to leave.”

He held the door open, and she slipped out into the cold, crisp air. In silence, they walked away from the inn.

She had no idea where they were going. Matching her stride to his, she veered when he veered, following his lead in a daze.

All she knew was that they were going to someplace entirely new, entirely strange. It was the sweetest place with the sharpest pain, and she did not quite know how she could bear it, yet she didn’t know how she could survive without it.

When he handed her the food and shapeshifted, she leapt onto his back, and they flew over the town and past the mill. Graydon followed the river and didn’t land again until he had reached a tangled clump of woods, some distance upstream from any property.

As she dismounted, she took in the place. A thick blanket of winter leaves covered the ground, while the dark outline of the trees overhead was spiky from bare branches. Evergreens dotted the area, giving the scene a sharp pine scent, while the quiet, rejuvenating sounds of the nearby river played at the edge of her hearing.

It was a clean, undomesticated place. The difference between it and all the other places they had visited in that long night couldn’t have been more dramatic.

Some unrecognized burden fell from her, and without realizing it, she breathed, “Oh, this.”

She barely sounded coherent, but he seemed to know exactly what she had meant.

“Yes,” he said, very low. “This.”

Together, they gathered wood. She had countless years of experience to draw upon, and he did too. They didn’t even need to speak as they coordinated everything they did with quick, neat economy.

As she cleared leaves from an area, he collected stones to make a fire ring. She walked down to the river to wash her face and hands, relishing the biting cold water. When she returned, he had a fire started and had even found a fallen log to use as a seat.

“Thank you,” she said fervently.

His smile lit up his rough face. “My pleasure.”

Rolling her tired shoulders, she slipped out of her sword harness, set it aside and sat. Echoing her movement, he joined her on the log. The fire quickly took hold, and flames began to leap, throwing off bright, intense heat.

She heaved a sigh. “Cities are hard.”

He had begun to unwrap the food. The glance he gave her was brief and heartfelt. “Don’t I know it.”