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He’d been camped up here in this makeshift shelter for months? Watching out for me?
“Why couldn’t you keep an eye on me from afar like your father did?”
He clamped his jaw tight and stood. “We should get moving.”
I finished my tea in one last gulp then handed him the cup. While he set about emptying the portable pit of blue-coal and packing it away, I found my brush at the bottom of my bag.
Gwenda perched on a branch and watched me with a contented smile as I untangled and unwound the small braids at my temples.
“It must look like a mess.”
She shook her head. “So pretty.”
I brushed through my mass of hair several times, very aware of Vallon moving around, stealing glances at me while he packed.
By the time he was done, I’d managed to braid my hair into one long rope. I thought it more practical for travel, to keep it out of my way. Once I’d stored my brush in my bag, I turned to find him waiting with his own rucksack slung over one shoulder.
“Ready?” he asked.
I was, of course, but then I realized I was about to be in his arms, flying high above the ground. When my pulse rocketed,I wasn’t sure if it was at the thought of flying again or being pressed so close to his body.
I nodded, and he closed the space between us, staring down at me with that enigmatic, cool expression. His crimson gaze was so intense I had to bite my lip to keep a whimper of pleasure from escaping. His nearness made me dizzy with an unquestionable desire. Heat crawled up my chest and neck, flushing my cheeks.
His gaze wandered over my face. “Don’t be nervous,” he said in that deep timbre of his.
“I’m not.”
When a sudden wind rustled the leaves, a strand of my hair I’d missed crossed my face and caught on my lip. He lifted his hand, and I didn’t move as he slowly removed the lock with one finger and tucked it behind my ear. His claw gently scraped my scalp, the pad of his finger gliding along the shell of my ear.
He watched me with careful scrutiny. Then he scooped me into his arms. I sucked in a breath and quickly wrapped my arms around his neck.
“Comfortable?” he asked.
As comfortable as I could be in a shadow fae’s arms. I wanted to laugh, but I simply nodded.
He looked up, revealing the line of his thick, masculine throat. I was shocked at my sudden desire to bury my face there and inhale deeply of his scent.
Some madness must have come over me. I didn’t even know this male, and my entire being—heart, soul, and body—was wholly entranced by him.
So what if he’d saved me from being gambled away to that disgusting ambassador? I would’ve run away from Rukard if he’d won me in the game. And sure, Vallon had also had enough care to grab my necklace for me. He had honor in heeding hisfather’s dying wish. But I’d admired many similar males before and not had this visceral, aroused reaction to them.
He was a foreigner. A dark fae. By all accounts, an enemy to our kind.
Then why did he feel like the opposite to me, like a trusted friend I’ve been waiting for all my life?
He flew north, the sun slowly rising to the east and glazing the world in gold. Yet again, I became fascinated by the way the landscape looked from up here.
“Are you warmer in the new clothes?” His chest rumbled, his voice close and intimate even while the wind rushed over us.
“Yes.” I hadn’t realized how drafty and uncomfortable my dress had been from this height until he asked. “Thank you for the clothes.”
“You’re welcome.”
Down below, I could see a cluster of small buildings spread out in a curving line. “That’s the Borderlands?”
The Borderlands weren’t a village of any particular kind. And it was home to many different kinds of fae—light and dark. It was literally a string of sporadic inns, houses, and shops selling wares to anyone who passed between Lumeria and Northgall.
“Yes,” he answered.
