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“I think that’s a good start,” Lorik murmured.
“It’s the only thing I can think to do anymore,” I said. Sighing, I dusted off dirt and shriveled, wrinkled leaves from the pedestal and lay the wreath on top. It must have cost Veras more than I made at the market in three months.
Lorik’s warm hand never left my waist. I shivered when a breeze wound through my hair and turned into him. My emotions were a little raw tonight, but it was nice to have someone near. To be able to lean on someone else, allow them to be my pillar, when I’d never had anyone like that before.
“You have a pure soul, Marion,” Lorik told me gently as he led me from the clearing. “I told you earlier—kind and gentle.There are not many like you in the world, especially here on Allavar. You’re as rare as the creatures you so lovingly keep.”
“But?” I asked, hearing that unspoken word in his voice.
His smile was a half one, not quite reaching his eyes as they scanned the darkness of the Black Veil.
“I’m worried that someone like me isn’t good for someone like you,” he confessed. “I worry for the day when you look at me like you look at Veras.”
I stilled. I hadn’t expected thevulnerabilityI heard in his gruff tone.
I wasn’t a fool. I knew there was a lot lurking beneath the surface of Lorik Ravael. Unspoken, dangerous truths. Even Veras’s guard had been afraid of him. The barbed words edged in warning from Veras told me that even he knew something I didn’t.
There was a suspicion nagging in my mind, but it was too ridiculous to even voice. That Lorik had dealings with the Severs, which was forbidden. Anyone who came across Severs were never seen or heard from again.
Like Merec?I wondered, remembering what Lorik had told me about the old shopkeeper.
“What did Veras mean?” I asked quietly. Lorik’s hand tightened on my waist. “When he said he wasn’t surprised to see you in the Black Veil?”
“I hunt in the forest sometimes,” Lorik replied.
“You two know one another?”
“Not in the way you suspect, little witch,” he replied, cutting me a sharp glance out of the corner of his eye. “We’ve encountered one another in the village at times, nothing more. I didn’t lie to you about my dealings with him. I truly have none.”
“He seems to hold a strong opinion about you,” I commented.
“Most do.”
“And why is that?”
Lorik stilled on the path before turning to face me. We lingered inside the line of trees that wound around my cottage, just outside the protection barrier spell.
“Because most Allavari don’t trust what they don’t understand,” Lorik told me. “And most of them do not understand me. They don’t understand why I don’t kiss the ass of every noble I encounter, why I don’t involve myself with their celebrations and affairs, why I don’t live in Rolara, why they never see me with a lover, a friend, or family. To them, I amother. I always have been and I always will be. It’s not my duty to make them understand me. I simply couldn’t care less.”
My gaze dropped to his lips as he spoke. He must’ve washed while I’d been visiting Aysia’s grave. The ends of his hair were damp, and he smelled of my soap, infused with whitedrop oil.
“But you…” Lorik said. “I care about what you think of me, Marion.”
“You do?”
He nodded. “You’re the only one I can say that about in Rolara.”
“We know so little about one another. How can you say that?”
“Sometimes you just know, little witch. Attraction is fairly easy to ascertain,” Lorik said, his hand sliding up my back, making me shiver. When his hand trailed up my neck and his shorn claws scraped pleasurably against my scalp, I nearly gasped. My throat seemed to tingle with that sweet touch. “And I’m certainly attracted to you. But connection? A true connection? That’s rare. But I have it with you. Do you feel it too?”
My heart was thumping in my chest.
“Yes,” I whispered.
The sound he made was a cross between a purr and a growl. “Mmm, I’m glad.”
The smile that crossed my face was perhaps the first genuine smile since Veras had arrived, and it felt goofy and too wide, stretching my features until I thought they might crack.
