Page 28 of Stolen Thorn Bride

But he also needed her to know that what she had done—that sudden bright flare of power—was nothing to run from. Neither was it anything to be ashamed of.

Had humans taught her to be afraid?

Perhaps he could simply follow her. Keep her safe, and speak to her again in the morning. But as he moved to trace her steps, exhaustion swept over him once more and threatened to bring him to his knees.

Dechlan cursed his weakness, cursed the wraith that had scored him with its icy claws, and cursed the glacial slowness of his recovery. He would need to be at his full strength soon. The fate of the Northwatch still depended on him, and he could not fail his people again.

He must rest. Hope that his bondmate would not stray far and would be able to defend herself against any hostile wild creatures. And if not, Aral would return soon from hunting. Even after so little time, the dreadwolf would protect her if she were threatened.

And perhaps Dechlan ought to simply hope that she would come back at all. The thought that she might abandon him—and be fully justified in doing so—was strangely disappointing considering the animosity of their meeting and how little they knew of one another.

Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow, all of that must change. For the sake of everyone in the Northwatch, he could not afford to be at odds with his bondmate.

* * *

To his immense relief,Kasia returned to camp a short time later. She avoided his gaze and seemed to fall asleep near the fire with her head pillowed on her arm.

He somewhat doubted the genuineness of her slumber, but could not blame her for avoiding him. Her exhaustion was nearly as great as his, and her fear was a dark knot at the back of his mind. The conversation could wait.

But when she continued evading his attempts at conversation the next morning, Dechlan was eventually forced to approach her in earnest. He could not be at peace so long as she continued to be afraid of him, but how could he ease her fears if he did not understand them?

Uncomfortably aware of how easy it would be to make her feel threatened, he waited until they were both mounted and had returned to the road towards home.

“Kasia.”

“Dechlan.” She sounded cool and composed, but he could sense her unease, and it seemed unfair that the bond gave him such an advantage.

He needed to tell her, but first…

“We must speak of what happened last night.”

She was already stiff and uncomfortable in the saddle—no doubt suffering the aches and pains common to new riders—but somehow stiffened still further.

“I swear it won’t happen again,” she said, looking resolutely ahead and keeping a death grip on Aral’s harness. “I am cursed, yes, but I don’t practice magic. And I’ve never told anyone.”

“Cursed?” The word came out more forcefully than he intended. “Who in all the blighted kingdoms of humanity told you you were cursed?”

Finally, her head whipped around, and she pinned him with an intense, almost hopeful gaze.

“Everyone,” she said cautiously. “Everyone except Gianessa, that is. My employer. But the others in my village call her a witch and mock her until they can no longer get by without one of her medicines.”

“Small-minded idiots,” Dechlan muttered, wondering how the humans had become so numerous with such ridiculous notions as that. “Surely outside of your small corner of the kingdom, humans are less prejudiced.”

But his bondmate shook her head. “It’s not just my village. Our entire kingdom believes mages are evil. Our king has spread his hatred of magic, and his soldiers have been known to hunt mages they believe are a threat.”

“Are all humans so barbaric?” It angered him deeply that anyone should have told this woman she was cursed. That they had made her distrust her own gift—her own self—so completely.

She was looking at him as if he had three heads. “I… I’ve heard there are places where mages are accepted. Even welcomed. But they’re far, and I have no way to get there. My siblings wouldn’t understand, and my father…”

“Your father? He didn’t know about your magic?”

“No, I’ve never told him.” A great deal of pain accompanied those words, and Dechlan suddenly wondered about this father of hers. She did not speak of him as though he were dead.

“Then your father is alive?”

A nod.

“Then why is it that you are the one responsible for caring for your siblings? Are humans that different from us, that children must raise each other?”