Page 59 of In Darkness Forged
Suddenly, Talyn did jerk away from her, his hands gripping her arms, his amber gaze fixed on hers, burning through her and setting her whole body ablaze with its intensity.
“Don’t do this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t need me. It will bring neither of us anything but pain.”
Aislin didn’t move, didn’t flinch, only took a deep, shuddering breath and looked back at him steadily.
“No matter what we do or where we go,” she said quietly, “pain is a part of living. I know no one who has gone untouched by heartache, disaster, or betrayal. But I do know those who have gone on living with open hearts, and they still find joy.”
Brannic had lost his leg, his livelihood, and every one of his companions, yet he’d refused to give up until he found a new life that he loved. Marinda had been forced to flee everything she knew to settle in a new kingdom, far from everything that was familiar, and yet she fought for those around her with a warm and generous heart.
“I’ve decided that is what I want for myself,” Aislin said softly. “And for my family. I won’t stop fighting until I’ve found it, and I won’t stop fighting for you, either.”
Talyn’s grip on her arms tightened almost to the point of pain. His jaw clenched, his wild-eyed gaze darkened, and then something in him seemed to break. His shoulders fell, he let out a groan—almost of resignation—and pulled her towards him.
Almost before she realized what was happening, Aislin collided with his bare chest, and then his arms were around her, warm and solid and utterly immovable.
Her cheek rested in the hollow of his shoulder, and she felt his sigh just before his chin came to rest on her hair.
It was shocking. Overwhelming. And yet it was also coming home, but to a home unlike any she’d ever experienced. His embrace was warmth. Comfort. Acceptance. It asked for nothing, but only gave. Somehow it was both beautiful and heartbreaking to recognize what she’d always been missing, even as she acknowledged that it was not hers to keep.
She dared not believe that Talyn felt anything more for her than protectiveness, even if her own heart pounded and the butterflies of attraction were rioting in her chest. It was enough that he’d allowed her to come this close. He’d permitted her to comfort him, and that in itself was a form of trust she’d never imagined possible.
For just a moment, Aislin’s eyes closed as she allowed herself to revel in the warmth—to sink into that illusion of safety. She was not alone in the dark anymore. Talyn would fight for her, and he’d proven it by coming after her instead of pursuing his vengeance.
But after a few more heartbeats, Aislin suddenly awakened to the fact that her face rested against Talyn’sbarechest. Lord Dreichel’s stone was a cold, hard knot against her sternum, and she was clad in next to nothing. Suddenly what had begun as a moment of mutual comfort became strangely awkward.
Behind her, the fire collapsed with a crash and a shower of sparks, and the sound startled her into leaping away.
Talyn let her go, though his arms remained suspended in the air for a moment before falling to his sides.
Unable to look him in the eye or find words to explain her sudden attack of shyness, Aislin tucked her hair behind her ear and all but scurried back to the fire. As she crouched by the flames, she could feel her face burning with a strange heat that matched the heat deep within her chest—a sensation as unfamiliar as it was unsettling.
Something had changed, something vital, and the strength of her feelings unnerved her. She had not wanted to let him go.
For a few taut moments, the fire crackled and the water lapped at the shore in relative silence. But then Talyn moved forward, seated himself near the flames, and turned his attention to removing his boots—not without a grunt of effort.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Aislin hoped she sounded calm, but she felt oddly desperate to break this strange, new tension between them.
“I do not.” Talyn’s voice was deep and quiet, utterly devoid of the anger and frustration she’d come to expect from him. “But if we can find a way out, I should be able to determine the location of the nest without much difficulty.”
If…
There were so many ifs.
“Perhaps we should wait,” Aislin suggested. “At least until your magic returns and your wounds heal.”
One eyebrow raised in her direction. “And if Rhone and his pack are able to obtain what we seek before that happens?”
Aislin winced but did not waver. “They can try.” Her memory suddenly tossed up the recollection of Vanadar’s words, and she brightened. “But as I recall, Vanadar did not say we had to return first—only that we had to return with the venom before the Marlord breathes his last. Even if Rhone achieves the objective sooner, Vanadar cannot deny us what he promised without breaking his word.”
Talyn looked startled.
“Words are important,” Aislin pointed out with a grin.
“So they are.” His expression lightened for a moment before sobering anew. “But as it happens, you are correct. We should go nowhere until we have determined the severity of your own injuries.”
Aislin sucked in a quick breath, and a stab of pain from her ribs reminded her of her fall. Talyn was right—she was not in any condition to tackle more of those giant spiders anytime soon.
But her family…