Page 31 of Stolen Thorn Bride

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Page 31 of Stolen Thorn Bride

He was still her husband in name only. And she was still planning to leave him as soon as she got the chance.

But whenever she allowed herself to look deeper, she was forced to admit thateverythinghad changed.

She was not the same person who had set out from Gianessa’s, swinging a stick and cursing under her breath at the wiles and waywardness of pigs.

And she owed that change to the man even now checking her mount’s harness to ensure it was safe.

Dechlan was not at all what she’d first believed.

Oh, he could still be stern, intimidating, and regal—the embodiment of an elf king from a thousand fireside stories. And he still took her breath away whenever she looked at him for too long. Her heart sometimes ached for the sheer beauty of watching him race across an open meadow on his wolf—a deadly, graceful pair that seemed capable of outstripping the wind itself.

But then, she couldn’t stop staring at him when he was doing simple, mundane things either. At the brooding line of his jaw as he crouched near the fire each night, tending the flames and gazing into a place or time she couldn’t see. Or at the shape of his mouth when he smiled, or the point of his ears where they parted his silken dark hair.

And yet, these things had always been true. What had changed her was the many glimpses of his heart that she’d been afforded these past nine days.

In many ways, Dechlan was very like the land they traveled through. Beautiful and wild, honed by forces beyond her imagination. Unknowable at first, and yet impossible to resist once you saw beneath the surface.

After only a few days of riding, they’d left the dense oak forests behind, and as they traveled north and west, began to encounter a different form of landscape. The oaks here were shorter and sturdier, more gnarled and possessive. The ground was covered in short grasses or moss, while gorse shouldered its way in wherever it found a gap. Their road passed between numerous tors, and through valleys crowded with the silver trunks of birch and the prickly branches of hawthorns just beginning to bud.

Kasia was relieved to see much that was familiar—sparrows, squirrels, and rabbits all crossed their path—but also found herself delighted by the unfamiliar.

Chief of those was, of course, Aral. She almost couldn’t remember a time when she hadn’t adored every shaggy inch of him. His teeth were still long and sharp, and his paws big enough to crush her head, yet he was also the perfect pillow, the warmest blanket, and the most dependable traveling companion she could imagine.

In addition to Aral, each day of their journey brought new discoveries. When they camped near a rippling stream, there were tiny gray fishers—aquatic hunters with sharp teeth, webbed paws, and disconcertingly wise faces. They encountered herds of white deer that would disappear into the mist with the slightest sound. Overhead, Kasia spotted flocks of sleek, dark swifts—dove-sized birds with fierce eyes and powerful wings that elves used to carry messages across long distances. And one morning, just before sunrise, they even caught a glimpse of an elusive golden-furred dawn lynx, staring at them out of wide blue eyes before it slipped away on its enormous paws.

And then there was Dechlan—the strangest and most astonishing discovery of all. Beneath that stern, elf-lord exterior was an essentially gentle heart, a surprising amount of patience, and a stubborn determination to take on the burdens of an entire people.

And perhaps that was the most unnerving thing Kasia had realized over the past nine days—that despite all their differences, she recognized what drove him. His pain and heartache resonated with her own, and the weight of his responsibilities seemed an all too familiar burden.

Somehow, they’d become… friends, of a sort, and she couldn’t help but wonder what would become of that fledgling friendship now that they were only a half day’s journey from his home.

Northwatch Keep.

He’d spoken of it with fondness, though not without a hint of weariness—as if it were a weight that would settle back on his shoulders the moment he passed beneath the gates. And when their pace seemed to slow even though Dechlan’s strength had continued to recover, Kasia decided she was probably not far off the mark.

“You don’t want to go back,” she blurted out as she finished adjusting Aral’s harness, her eyes fixed on her hands. She could feel Dechlan’s still-slightly-intimidating presence beside her, and knew when his focus shifted to her face.

“Why would you say so?” His voice was carefully neutral.

“I can just… tell.” A pitiful response, but no less true.

“And would you have me change my course?”

No. And yet… “I would not wish you to be unhappy,” she said.

He did not deny the truth of her observation. “If I thought I could find happiness by leaving my responsibilities behind, perhaps I would consider it,” he confessed, resting his hand on Aral’s back for a moment. “But I could never leave the Northwatch. Never leave my people to face their enemies alone. I am needed, and if I walked away now, the pain of it would be far greater than the relief.”

“And yet youwouldfeel relief.”

He looked down at her again, and this time, she glanced up into his light gray eyes, looking for she hardly knew what.

“There is no shame in that relief,” he said. “No shame in wishing that things were different, or wanting something to call your own.”

Kasia nodded, abruptly finding herself near tears at the realization that he understood. She still wanted to go home. Needed to be there for her siblings. Rordyn was old enough to prevent catastrophe for a time, but she could not condemn him to the life she’d led.

And yet, a tiny piece of her was no longer as desperate for escape. A small, shameful voice in her head insisted that here, in Sion Dairach, she could be free. Dechlan would not force her to do or to be anything other than herself. She might not be needed, but she would have a home, where no one would sneer and call her cursed.

And Dechlan, at least, would be a friend of sorts. She would have Aral, too, if she could convince King Miach to let her keep him.




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