Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
The word children struck him silent. For a moment, all he could do was stare at her, the image rising unbidden—fiery-haired little ones with her green eyes and his stubborn chin, chasing through the corridors, laughter echoing. His heart thudded hard in his chest, an ache he did not expect, nor know how to name.
Fawn studied him, and for the first time she saw the hardness in his gaze falter.
He spoke slowly, his jaw unclenching. “We’ll not have beasts ruling my keep.”
She waited to see if he would say more, offer balance to the problem.
The bite left this voice. “But… we’ll find a way.”
Relief flickered in her chest, though she kept her chin high, unwilling to give him all the victory. “A way that honors both of us,” she said firmly.
Rhodes leaned back in his chair, his dark gaze never leaving hers. Good Lord, help me, he thought, his heart twisting, she’ll be the end of me. And yet… I cannot imagine life without her.
Fawn lowered her eyes to her stew, hiding the small smile that tugged at her lips. Stubborn brute, she thought, her chest warm despite herself. I’ll not lose him. Not now.
The storm rattled the shutters, the fire hissed, and for the first time since their vows had been spoken, they both felt the fragile beginnings of something neither dared name… a true marriage.
Later, with the stew finished and the fire banked low, they settled beneath the furs on her bed. The storm howled outside, wind lashing against the shutters, but the small room held its own pocket of warmth.
Fawn lay curled against him, her head on his shoulder, his arm heavy around her. For a while she listened to the steady beat of his heart, letting the sound soothe her even as her thoughts churned.
At last, she lifted her head slightly. “Rhodes?”
He grunted in reply, already half-drifting in sleep, his fingers tracing idle patterns along her arm.
“Do you have any notion of who might have set the hounds on the sheep?”
His eyes opened, the weight of his gaze anchoring her. In the silence that followed, his hand stilled on her arm, and his thoughts turned inward.
She thought his silence was meant to dismiss the question altogether. Then his voice came low, taut with thought.
“Aye. Someone bold enough to challenge me. Someone who wishes to see me questioned in the eyes of my clan.”
Fawn saw how the slight scowl on his face made the few lines appear sharper in the firelight. “An enemy of yours.”
He gave a humorless grunt. “Every powerful leader has enemies, Fawn. Most often it is those once thought to be friends.”
“And you? Do you have friends you trust?”
He was silent long enough for her to know the answer before he spoke.
“I have men who serve me loyally.”
“Not the same,” she murmured, realizing that if he had to think on it, if he had to reach for names, then he had no true friends at all.
Before he could reply, the blankets stirred at their feet. Sprig scrambled up the bed, his tiny paws pressing against Rhodes’s side as he wormed his way between them.
Rhodes let out a sharp growl of annoyance. “Not in our bed, wife.”
She smiled, stroking the kitten’s back. “He’s only a tiny bairn. He wants warmth and safety, same as we do.”
“Not for long,” Rhodes muttered, glaring down at the small intruder. “He’ll grow fast enough, and then what?”
As if in answer, Sprig circled once and curled against Rhodes’s side, a small, contented purr rumbling.
Fawn bit back her laughter. “Then he’ll still want warmth and safety.”
Rhodes stared down at the scrap of fur nestled against him. His jaw flexed, but at last he let out an annoyed huff, pulling Fawn closer with his free arm.
“One night,” he warned, though the sternness in his voice lacked bite.
Fawn rested her cheek on his chest, hiding the smile that tugged at her lips, and whispered, “One night.”
Fawn’s breathing softened against his chest, her lashes fluttering once before settling still. Sprig purred at his side, the tiny sound oddly soothing in the storm’s howl. Rhodes lay unmoving, his arm wrapped around her, holding her more tightly than he meant to.
He should have been at ease, his wife safe in his arms, the fire holding back the cold, the storm keeping enemies at bay. Yet his thoughts churned.
Enemies.
He had spoken truthfully, every powerful leader had them. But this attack on the sheep was no random strike. It had been crafted, deliberate, meant to expose weakness. Someone sought to test him. Someone dared to believe he could be toppled.
His gaze drifted to the shuttered window, the snow seeping white around its edges. A darker thought crept in, one he had tried to ignore but kept poking at him. Had the witch kept her word? Had she ended the wish as she threatened?