“Hmm,” Alora handed him the cup and pushed the blanket from her lap, rising to her feet. “We should test it first.”
“Alora, wait?—”
She made for the curtain, and he quickly backed away to the furthest corner of the cottage. Taking the curtains in her fingers, she glanced back at him. His jaw ticked, stubbornness warring with centuries of instinct.
She drew them open an inch, and he flinched. A thin stream of light cut between the bed and kitchen, separating them. She held her breath, watching Rune. He stood motionless in the corner. Then after a breath, lifted a hand towards the ray of sunlight.
Nothing happened.
Rune ran his fingers through the dust motes hesitantly. While it wasn’t direct light, it would have at least caused some discomfort if there were any. But he didn’t blister in the slightest.
“There, see? It must be safe.” Alora beamed. Then she got another idea and rushed to her wardrobe to find a change of clothing. “We must go outside.”
Sensing what she wanted, the shadows swirled around her and her nightgown shifted into a soft pink dress. Simple but beautiful. She studied herself wide-eyed in the mirror, finding her hair brushed and falling in soft waves. Even her body was clean, all sweat and stickiness gone.
Convenient and unnervingly intuitive.
Rune blinked, either taken aback by how easily she had done it or what she said. “Why?”
She pinned up a section of her hair. “There’s a pond behind the cottage. It’s the perfect place to test if it’s safe for you to go out during the daylight.”
He didn’t move. Not at first.
His gaze flicked toward the window, where light crept across the floor.
“It’ll be fine, Rune.” Alora came forward holding out Caelum’s cloak, slightly too small for him but lined with soft velvet.
He hesitated to take it.
“Either you are impossibly reckless or you are secretly plotting to have me burn alive,” he said, half-jesting.
She smirked slyly. “I may consider it in the future.”
Shadows curled from her fingertips like black silk, rising to form a shroud over his head like a protective veil.
Rune studied her face as if he wasn’t sure whether to be amused or terrified by her acclimation to his power. “My life is in your hands then, my queen.”
They shared a look, the bond humming. She supposed he was right. Whether it was because of the strange connection between them, or because of how intimate they were last night, she was, Seven help her, growing fond of Rune. She didn’t want to see him harmed.
And she didn’t know how to feel about that.
Rune draped the cloak over his shoulders, the hood falling low over his brow. She took his hand and he willingly followed her out the door.
Their steps were slow, careful. Alora moved with quiet confidence, her bare feet gliding across the dew-slick grass.Rune walked as if the earth might reject him. Her shadows formed a shield overhead, weaving around him like a shield.
Outside, the world had been painted in gold.
The dawn stretched over the hills with lazy grace, the air crisp with the autumn chill. Trees swayed in the breeze, shedding glistening drops from their leaves. The birds sang as if the world was brand new. She led him past the well and the front garden as they went around the cottage, passing the rusted axe she’d forgotten in a tree stump by a pile of firewood.
And there like a jewel at the heart of it all lay the pond. The surface shimmered with molten light, rippling in the gentle wind.
“Ready?” she asked, her voice soft.
Rune huffed a nervous breath, then smiled faintly. “Well, if I do burn, feel free to push me into the pond. You would enjoy that, wouldn’t you.”
“Oh, without question.” She laughed nervously because she could feel it, the tremor beneath his calm.
The shadows peeled back slowly, like a curtain drawn open. Rune exhaled. Then, with deliberate stillness, he lowered the hood of the cloak.
