Page 44 of In Darkness Forged
She was wet and freezing and bedraggled, but he was touching her with something that wasn’t quite disdain, which meant that she was also hotter than a blacksmith’s forge.
Memories of that morning assailed her, with a vision of the moment he’d stripped off his shirt without warning. She’d nearly lost her nerve when confronted by his extremely unclothed torso.
But it had been her only chance. Her one opportunity to show him that she was more than useless baggage who constantly needed protecting and then fell apart in pointless tears the moment a battle was over.
So she’d somehow kept her tone cool and her touch light and had not stopped to stare at all those muscles that lay right there under her fingertips—warm and smooth and firm beneath that silver skin.
The blade had cut across the back of Talyn’s shoulder, nearly to his spine, but fortunately, had not sliced deep enough to damage anything vital. At least, so she hoped. Old Man Eben had taught her to stitch minor wounds, but she really had no knowledge of what, exactly, lay beneath the skin.
The surface typically told stories enough, but Talyn’s told her nothing. All she could read was the fury that drove him—a fury anchored by the unhealed wound of his sister’s death and the unyielding desire for revenge.
He did not look furious now. Only perplexed. A furrow creased the space between his brows as he looked down at her… waiting.
Oh, yes. He’d apologized.
Apologized.
Right after he said her name, and it was those two simple syllables that seemed to have driven every rational thought from her head.
“I… You…”
One of his eyebrows lifted quizzically.
If she didn’t manage to respond soon, he was probably going to throw her back into the pond.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her lips barely moving.
He was looking at her so oddly. As if he had no idea what to say or do next, let alone how he’d ended up with her in his arms, dripping pond water all over both of them.
Cuan huffed and flopped back down on the moss, breaking the tension.
Talyn turned and strode towards the remains of the fire without setting her down.
“I’m not hurt,” she said tentatively.
“But you will be if you don’t dry off.” His customary glower seemed to be returning.
“We’re both wet,” she pointed out. “And we don’t have time for a delay. Not if there are others after the same prize.”
“And how are we to outmaneuver them with you sneezing so loudly that everything from here to the border can hear you?” he demanded.
When she didn’t answer, he set her down. The motion was quick and businesslike, but Aislin thought she felt one hand remain beneath her elbow until she was steady on her feet.
Had he actually meant that apology? And would he continue to use her name, or would he revert to calling her “human” the moment he was annoyed with her?
Holding one hand out towards the smoldering ashes, Talyn tilted his head slightly and glowered just a little bit harder. Flames leaped up an instant later, their warmth reaching Aislin’s face almost immediately.
So much magic. She’d never met any human mage who could do such a thing, but perhaps that sort of power was common among night elves.
Aislin found that she wasn’t quite brave enough to ask any questions about the apology, so she moved as close to the fire as she dared before voicing the next most pressing query on her mind.
“How far to the caves?”
Talyn shrugged. “We have only to find an entrance. The Darkspring runs deep beneath this entire area, so it is likely below us even now.”
Well, that wasn’t unsettling or anything. But Aislin could hardly lose her nerve at the idea of a cave full of monsters beneath her when she was trying to convince him to take herintoit.
Turning her back to the fire so the wettest part of her skirt could dry, Aislin gazed into the forest and admitted to herself that despite her fear and the dread of her errand, this land was truly beautiful—monsters aside. Dark and mysterious and filled with creatures she had never imagined could exist… but beautiful all the same.