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Gavin closed his eyes, the image of Elina’s lithe body swaying limp in Violet’s arms still vivid in his mind. It was a memory that could have concluded in his worst nightmare if it hadn’t been for her. As his father had told him afterwards, his foolish boy actions that day had almost cost them Elina’s life. It was time he became a man.
He’d taken the words to heart. That version of him had died many moon cycles ago, the irresponsible side of him long gone and buried.
The wind whistled through the windows and their crevices, howling down the hallway and seeping into the fabric of his clothes. He could always go back to the Iron Kingdom and claim he’d never found her. Be done with this madness.
He shouldn’t stay, especially when she’d made it so abundantly clear that she didn’t want him. He could—should—let her go. It would be sensible for him to be rid of her. After all, she was a negative, hateful… beautiful strong woman who drew him in like a moth to a flame.
If he left now, he would never have to admit that, against his better judgment, his ridiculous waiting game had turned into a painful attraction. That seeing her name in the letter that announced his match had turned him inside out and into a mess of nerves. It was a part of himself he was eager to bury forever.
Falling for someone like Violet didn’t feel wrong, however. Not when she’d jumped into the black waters of the Hulten lake and pulled out his thirteen-year-old sister without a second thought. He traced the scar on his chin and shook his head with a groan before walking away from the room.
Gavin had healed her now. She'd told him she wouldn’t come back with him to the Iron City, even after he’d pleaded his case. What other reason did he have to stay?
Although she was much improved, she needed time to recover from her wound and the mild hypothermia. He didn’t want her dying out in the dangerous Obsidian mountains while still injured.
The window at the far end of the hallway slammed against its frame, shaking the glass and the snow that stuck to it. Beyond it, flurries dropped from the gray sky, covering the small town in additional layers of white.
His sister once told him he was a man who craved danger and a masochist at heart, and him wanting to stay with Violet proved that. He was clearly going mad. Being so on edge was unlike him.
What did the Society expect would happen when they cornered someone like Violet and tried to bend her to their will? He’d witnessed her fighting plenty of times in the assemblies, and she moved like a shadow, barely visible with the quickness of her steps. Ever since he’d joined the King’s army, warriors had surrounded him, but out of all of them it was her who stood out.
She rarely relied on her magic to accomplish her goals but counted on her impressive skills with weaponry and a healthy dose of mischief. What if someone came while he was gone and took her? He trusted that Julius had been truthful when he’d told Gavin he would try and stop the Crows from chasing after them. He wasn’t sure if they would get the two months his Commander promised.
Julius hadn’t known about his full intentions to not force Violet back into the Iron City against her will. On his way here, Gavin had almost convinced himself that if he explained his reasoning to her, she might come back voluntarily. Alas, Violet and him agreed on something. He was a naïve fool.
Nevertheless, Gavin had already accepted his destiny long ago, before finding her in that tavern. He would leave his family behind if it meant allowing Violet to escape a fate she clearly hated. Even if it meant becoming a deserter himself.
The innkeeper he’d met the night before was standing behind the counter downstairs. Her eyes, much like his, looked darkened by a sleepless night. She didn’t notice him approaching immediately, stirring a silver spoon through the teacup resting before her. Hand-painted flowers and leaves decorated its glowing white surface. A woodsy vanilla scent tickled his nostrils as he came closer, bringing a smile to his face. Rooibos, his favorite. “Good morning.”
The woman jumped, raising her wide blue eyes to meet his, and up close he couldn’t miss her drawn, tired face. Did he look the same? “Gods, you scared me!” She reached for a tissue to dab some spilled tea from the surface of the table. “What can I do for you, Mr. Luna?”
“Just call me Gavin.” He tapped his fingers on the counter, and flashed her a smile. “I never got the opportunity to ask for your name last night.”
She rewarded him with the tentative tilt of her lips. “I’m Laura.”
He’d initially thought her swollen red face might be due to lack of rest, but now that she used the same tea stained tissue to dab her glassy eyes dry, he knew something else was off. “Are you well?”
“Oh, I’m…yes.” She brought the shaking cup to her lips and took a sip.
Something was off. Should he dig deeper? He doubted he’d be much help to her with the amount of trouble that continued to pile up on his plate. He needed to focus on getting a larger room for him and Violet to stay in tonight, or else he might end up throwing caution to the wind the next time she rubbed that fine ass of hers into him. Not only would it be disheartening if she pushed him away, but it also meant less rest if she didn’t, and he needed all the energy he could get.
Maybe this once he’d just have to keep his concern to himself. “That’s a nice Rooibos you have brewing there.”
“You can tell what it is? I guess it does have a particular scent…” She looked down at her steaming cup, but then sniffed a shaky breath. “What can I help you with Mr.—Gavin? How is your wife doing this morning?”
“She is better today, thank you, which is why I’m here. I would love to rent a larger room for the day. I need some rest, but our bed is too small with the both of us crammed in there. And I don’t want to disturb her while she is still recovering.”
Laura’s face fell, and she shook her head. “I’m afraid not. We had a few patrons arrive late last night. Must be the storm that forced them away from their travels since we rarely get so many this time of the year.”
He eyed the chairs by the chimney warily. They stood bare by the fire and looked far more appealing than sleeping on the floor in his room.
“… a healer,” Laura said. Gavin looked up and met her eager blue eyes, shining anew like the night before. He blinked with heavy lids and stifled a yawn before attempting to digest her words.
“Pardon?”
“You said yesterday you were a magical healer?”
He froze, alarm bells ringing inside his head. He glanced around the room, but it was a quiet morning, and they were alone. Only the sound of the crackling logs kept them company. “I said I was a healer… but I don’t recall specifying that I was a magical one.”
