Page 48 of Lake of Sorrow

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Page 48 of Lake of Sorrow

13

Magic tantalizes before it destroys.

~ Kar’ruk proverb

Kaylina spun at the sound of Vlerion’s voice, almost dropping the honeycomb.

He sat upright on Crenoch’s back, looking sternly at her.

“If you weren’t unconscious so often, you’d see me doing even more blasphemous things.” She tried a smile, hoping he wasn’t that annoyed that she’d ripped pages out of his book. After all, she’d lost the first one he’d given her, and he hadn’t seemed that distressed.

“Such as?” Vlerion looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on a rip in her shirt. His eyes shifted from stern to grim. Maybe even haunted.

“Earlier, I was fondling an unconscious ranger,” she said, though her chest pats probably hadn’t counted as that. Heaving him onto Crenoch’s back definitely hadn’t. “That must be against the rules.”

Vlerion managed a slight smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were focused on the rip. Did he think he’d done it?

“Fondling isn’t against the rules, nor mentioned at all in the handbook, but rangers do prefer to be conscious for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He slid gingerly off Crenoch, probably sore after his battle, and pulled off his lopsided leather armor, the straps broken.

Kaylina wrapped most of the honeycomb in the page and tucked it away, reserving a couple of pieces for the taybarri. They lapped it down with such gratitude in their eyes that she suspected she was right about the honey, that it tasted amazing.

She touched a piece to her tongue. Oh yes, it was divine. Maybe better than her grandpa’s honey.

What kind of mead could she make from it? Would the druids—the brand—allow her to return for more? Or was this a one-time chance to collect honey for that plant?

After licking their blue lips numerous times, the taybarri rolled on their backs in the grass. Vlerion, who’d been about to delve into his pack, presumably for clothes, stepped back with his hand dangling in the air.

“I’m glad Crenoch waited until I dismounted to do that,” he murmured.

“I hope there’s nothing breakable in your pack.” Kaylina waved toward Crenoch, the straps making sure it stayed attached, however flattened it now was.

“Clothes and food.”

“I wondered if there’s fresh underwear in there.” She glanced at him, blushed, then pointed toward where Levitke had left his sword and boots. “We brought your other stuff.”

“Thank you.” Vlerion stepped closer and pointed toward the rip in her shirt. His voice softened as he asked, “Did I do that?”

“No. I did it to myself when I was fleeing from, uhm.” Kaylina realized he might feel equally bad if he learned he’d caused her to rip her clothes. “Those who pursued me,” she finished.

Vlerion wasn’t fooled. Eyes grimmer than ever, he said, “Me.”

“The beast.”

“As you well know, I am the beast.”

“It’ll be all right, Vlerion. I’m working on a way to lift your curse.” A piece of comb remained, and she offered it to him on her finger. “The plant was happy when I poured honey fertilizer on it, the first time at least. I’ll try again with this stuff.” Hopefully, she could avoid being branded again. “And if it works…”

“You’ll pour honey on me?”

“Sure, but we’ll have to do it when taybarri aren’t present or they’ll lick it off.”

His eyelids drooped. “I’d rather have you lick it off.”

She flushed with warmth as a vision of doing exactly that came easily to mind. She blamed it on his nudity. “If we could ensure certain things wouldn’t happen, I might be interested in that.”




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