The mare gave a great, shuddering heave. A murmur of despair rippled through the stable hands, but Fawn only pressed closer, guiding, urging, refusing to yield.
“One more, Bella,” she whispered fiercely. “Just one more.”
With a final straining push, the foal slid free onto the straw, limp for a terrible heartbeat, then shook, gave a thin, wet whicker, and drew his first breath.
Relief broke like thunder. Stable hands cheered, Bella hurried to her feet to nuzzle and tend her newborn, and Fawn sank back on her heels, tears brightening her eyes though her lips curved in a trembling smile.
Rhodes stepped forward, Sprig nestled against his chest, his dark gaze fixed on her—not the mare, not the foal, but Fawn. The firelight caught her curls, damp with sweat, her skin flushed, her hands tender as she helped the foal and his mother. She looked radiant, fierce, and alive.
“You saved them both,” he said, his voice low and roughened with something he hadn’t meant to reveal.
Fawn looked up at him, her chest still rising fast. “Because you let me.”
His gaze lingered on her, the kitten’s steady purr vibrating against him, and for the first time in longer than he could remember, Rhodes felt the stir of something gentler than power. He reached out to help her to her feet.
Fawn waited for him to thank her and when he remained silent, she went to a bucket filled with clean water and scrubbed her hands, her fingers trembling faintly from the strain of thework. Behind her, she caught the whispers of the stable hands, soft and awed.
“She saved them both.”
“Aye, never seen the like.”
“Brave lass, that one.”
Their words warmed her as she dried her hands on a cloth and slipped her cloak back around her shoulders.
Sprig was curled, sound asleep, against Rhodes’s chest, the small rise and fall of his breathing at odds with the hard, insistent man whose plaid cradled him. Fawn stepped forward to take him, but Rhodes’s hand closed around her arm before she could reach him.
Without a word, he steered her out of the stables, his stride long and unrelenting. She matched his pace, annoyance prickling under her skin.
For the briefest moment, as torchlight brushed his face, she thought she saw a softening in his dark eyes, a flare of something unguarded. But he said nothing, and he had yet to offer her a grain of thanks.
Her temper flared. “You owe me, Rhodes. Bella and her foal live because of me. If you wish to repay me, allow Elune to remain and make her home here.”
He halted abruptly, turning toward her. His grip on her arm tightened, not in cruelty but in conflict. Gratitude stirred within him, fierce and unfamiliar, tangled with something deeper he could not name. Yet her demand pierced it like a blade.
His jaw hardened. “You have until tomorrow morning to decide if the old woman stays or goes.”
Fawn’s eyes widened, fury and disbelief colliding. But before she could speak, he released her and turned away, toward the keep.
A few paces on, he stopped. Turning back, he held Sprig out to her, the kitten drowsy and limp with sleep. His hand brushed hers briefly as she took him, the warmth of the touch lingering.
Then Rhodes walked away, his voice low, barely more than a growl of words meant only for himself.
CHAPTER 7
The fire burned strong in the hearth, keeping the cottage snug with warmth. Fawn sat on the edge of her bed, her cloak still around her shoulders, her thoughts circling like restless crows. Sprig lay curled in a ball on the blankets, his tiny body rising and falling in deep sleep, his soft purr a faint comfort against the storm raging in her mind.
Rhodes’s words echoed still.“You have until tomorrow.”
Her fingers twisted in the folds of her tunic as she whispered aloud, “What am I to do?”
The door creaked open.
Fawn’s head snapped up, startled, then stilled when she saw who entered.
Her mum.
The woman stood framed in the doorway, the hood of her dark cloak drawn back, her eyes sharp and determined. She closed the door behind her and stepped into the glow of the fire, her presence filling the small cottage as surely as Rhodes’s had filled the Great Hall.
