Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 205(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
And that was the danger, wasn’t it?
Because she didn’t know if he meant to stay.
He was a man with a past and a secret he had yet to share. She could see it in the quiet storm always held just behind his eyes. He could be gone come winter, chasing the wind or whatever burden he carried. She’d seen enough men like that. Rootless. Wounded. And she’d promised herself long ago she wouldn’t let herself ache for someone who was already halfway gone.
But then he looked at her the way he did, and it made her feel as if she was the place where he might stop running.
She wiped her hands on her apron and crossed to the door. When she opened it, Raff stood there, wind-tossed and steady, his gaze searching hers.
“I heard there’s talk about who will take you to market,” he said, his voice strong. “I came to make it clear… it’s me. I’ll be taking you.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, her hand still on the door. She could see the tension in his shoulders, but also something else… resolve. Not the kind that came from pride, but the kind that came from meaning it.
“You said you would,” she said softly.
“Aye,” he replied. “And I meant it.”
She nodded slowly, stepping back just enough to let him in if he chose. “Folks are always quick to make arrangements for others. Especially when a woman’s involved.”
“I’m not here because of what they said,” he told her. “I’m here because I don’t want you riding out alone and because I gave you my word. But also…” He hesitated, then stepped closer. “I want to take you.”
Her breath caught.
She searched his face, still shadowed by whatever haunted him but opened in a way she hadn’t seen before. It warmed something inside her, something careful and hidden. Something she hadn’t let stir in a long time.
“You’re not a man who says things lightly, are you?” she asked.
“Nay,” he said. “And I won’t make promises I can’t keep.”
She nodded again. “Then I’d be glad to have you ride with me.”
For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
Then her smile came, quiet and real.
And in that small, shared silence, something stirred between them, making itself known… and there was no stopping it now.
CHAPTER 8
The fire in the hearth had burned low, its glow reduced to a soft amber that cast long shadows across the walls of the small cottage. Raff sat at the edge of the bed, shirtless, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly as if prayer might come to a man who had never been good at such things.
Sleep refused him, again.
He had long grown used to uneasy nights, but this place… this village… it was different. It gnawed at him in strange ways.
In every village he’d passed through since the cursed wish, people had turned from him. Some with suspicion, some with indifference, but most had simply ignored him. As though he wasn’t truly there. He’d spoken, offered a coin for food or a place to sleep, only to be met with blank stares or doors closed in his face.
But here… here they saw him. Spoke his name. Smiled even. Greeted him like he was one of their own.
Why?
He rose and paced the floor, the cold boards creaking beneath his bare feet. He hadn’t changed. The curse still clung to him. He could feel it, that invisible weight pressed between his shoulders. So why did it seem thinner here? Like the air wasn’t so heavy. Like the wish had no teeth.
Magic.
The thought came unbidden, but he didn’t dismiss it.
He’d seen too much not to believe in strange things. Had wished himself into a life not his own with nothing but a foolish longing and a few careless words. So, if magic had a place in this world, and he knew now that it did, then perhaps there was something working here as well. Something stronger.
But what?
His eyes drifted to the small window. The moon had risen behind a veil of clouds, its pale light painting the fields beyond gray and silver. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked once, then fell silent.
What made this village different?
Was it Ingrid? Or something she was tied to?
He had felt the pull toward her from the start, as if drawn by something just beyond understanding. Was that fate? Or some working of the very power that had cursed him?
And if that power was present here, could it be the same that had twisted his path?
Could the witch Latham had whispered about be real?
Could she be watching him even now?
He moved to the window, arms crossed tight upon his chest as he stared into the dark. There had to be answers. There had to be a reason why his curse was dulled here, and why this place hadn’t turned him out like the rest of the world.