The word hits me low and deep.
"Okay," I say, keeping my voice steady. "So we're stuck together."
His eyes flick to mine, beautiful, golden, and unreadable.
"Yes."
I swallow thickly. "Guess we should make the best of it."
His jaw flexes. Not in annoyance.Restraint.
"I won't harm you," he says, and I know—know down to my bones—he means it.
"I know," I whisper.
He looks away like he's afraid of what I'll see in his eyes, and then crosses to adjust the fire. Sparks drift up, warm and bright.
The storm roars outside.
Inside, my heartbeat is the loudest thing in the world.
Chapter 4
Garruk
Avalookssosmalland delicate in my bed.
But she's not small. Not fragile. She’s fierce and stubborn and bright as firelight. Yet wrapped in my furs, ankle bound, steam curling from the cup in her hands… she looks like something I must shield.
From the storm.
From the cold.
From myself.
The bond hums under my skin. Insistent. Wanting. Reaching.
I ignore it.
She's human. She may not accept.
I won't take what she doesn't freely give.
I busy my hands—tending fire, checking shutters, adjusting herbs hanging from beams. Anything to keep from staring.
But I feel her eyes on me. Curious. Warm. Brave.
"Fire okay?" she asks, trying for casual and missing.
"It’s going strong." My voice sounds rough. "The cabin will stay warm."
"That’s good." She clears her throat. “You have a nice cabin.”
I glance over. She's looking at the wall of tools, jars of dried berries, the carved bowl on the table. My home. Built for me alone.
But now she's here.
"It's simple," I say.
