He closed the book and set it aside for good this time. He would not become involved. He would not let himself care. When the storm passed, he would show them the safe path back to their village and return to his solitary existence.
It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do.
He just had to survive the night first.
The hours crept towards dawn.
He dozed fitfully in his chair, never quite sleeping, always aware of every sound from the other room. Twice more he rose to check on them, and twice more he found them sleeping peacefully. Dani hadn’t kicked off her blanket again. Jessa had curled onto her side, one hand reaching out to rest on her sister’s arm even in sleep.
Protector,his beast murmured.Like us.
The storm began to ease as the first grey light of dawn seeped through the shutters covering his windows. The rain softened from a torrent to a steady patter, and the wind’s howldiminished to something almost gentle. Soon the clouds would break and the sun would rise, and his guests would wake to a new day.
And then what?
He didn’t have an answer. He couldn’t see past the conversation he knew was coming. Jessa had fled her village for a reason. She’d brought her sick sister into the mountains during a storm because she was desperate. The problem wasn’t going to resolve itself overnight.
Not your problem, he told himself.Help them get back on their feet and send them on their way.
But even as he thought it, he knew it was a lie. The bond wouldn’t let him walk away—not when his beast had already decided that these two females belonged under his protection. The best he could hope for was to maintain some distance. To help without getting entangled, protect without claiming, care without…
Without what? Without caring?
It was already too late for that.
He rose as the light grew stronger and began to prepare for the day. He would make breakfast, something more substantial than broth, and tend to his guests’ needs. He would ask Jessa about her situation, assess the threat, determine what assistance he could reasonably provide. And then…
Then he would figure out how to survive the storm he could feel building inside him. The one that had nothing to do with weather and everything to do with a dark-haired weaver and her blue-eyed sister.
CHAPTER 11
The first thing Jessa noticed was warmth, a bone-deep warmth that seemed to have seeped into every part of her, loosening muscles she hadn’t realized were tight. The furs beneath her were impossibly soft, and the ones draped over her smelled of woodsmoke and something musky and comforting that she couldn’t quite identify.
For a long, drowsy moment, she simply lay there with her eyes closed, savoring the sensation of being warm. When was the last time she’d felt this comfortable? Not in months, certainly. Maybe not in years. Between Dani’s illness and Gerhard’s scheming and the constant grind of work, comfort had become a luxury she couldn’t afford.
Then memory crashed back, and her eyes flew open.
The mountain. The storm. Tarek.
She was in his den. In his bed.
She sat up carefully, heart pounding, and looked around. The sleeping chamber was small but not cramped, its stone walls softened by woven hangings in muted colors—browns andgreens and a deep rust red that reminded her of autumn leaves. A carved wooden shelf held a few personal items: a bone-handled brush, a small clay pot, and a stack of what looked like handwritten notes tied with leather cord. A window on the outer wall was covered with thick curtains in a brown and rust weave.
Dani was curled up in a tight ball beneath the furs next to her.
Her hand trembled as she reached out and brushed a strand of dark hair from her sister’s face, studying her in the pale morning light that filtered through the cracks around the curtains.
Dani’s breathing was soft and steady, not the labored wheeze that had become so familiar over the past months or the rattling cough that haunted her nightmares. She was just… breathing, peaceful and even, like a child who wasn’t fighting for every breath.
The greyish pallor from the night before had faded, replaced by something closer to normal. She was still too pale and too thin, but she no longer looked like she was fading away before Jessa’s eyes.
A sob caught in her throat and she pressed her hand to her mouth, muffling the sound as she let the tears come—tears of relief and gratitude. In spite of the storm, in spite of everything, the medicine had worked.
For a long moment, she simply sat there watching her sister sleep and memorizing the steady rise and fall of her chest. Letting herself believe, for the first time in longer than she could remember, that things might actually work out.
Then her stomach growled, loud and insistent, and she remembered that other than the broth she hadn’t eaten since… yesterday morning? The day before? She’d been too anxious toeat before they fled, and there hadn’t exactly been time for a meal during their desperate climb up the mountain.
Moving as quietly as she could to avoid disturbing Dani, she slipped out from beneath the furs. The stone floor was cold against her bare feet, and she became suddenly, acutely aware that she was wearing one of Tarek’s shirts, its hem falling to just above her knees and the shoulders so wide they kept slipping down her arms.
