“It was made for a councillor’s wife. One who travels with her husband. She didn’t like the color. The cloak has been hanging on that rack for months.”
“You want me to summon it?”
“It will keep you warm.”
“You want me to steal.” Unlike the dagger, which I returned in perfect condition each time I used it, the cloak would show signs of wear.
He huffed at my pesky morals. “If it makes you feel better, Ipromise to pay for it when we return to the city. Now close your eyes and summon the cloak.”
I might have argued, but the cold was already settling into my bones. I did as he asked. I closed my eyes and imagined the cloak. Fine dark-gray wool. Fur trim around the hood. Fur lining. Deep pockets to keep my hands warm even on the coldest of days.
“That’s right.” Pierce gave my arm an encouraging squeeze. “Picture yourself wrapped in warmth.”
I was already wrapped in warmth, but he meant the cloak, not his strong arms or hard chest.
“You can do it.”
I’d never summoned something I hadn’t already seen, but Pierce’s encouraging tone made me try. I wanted to please him. Wait, what? He’d helped take me from my home. What was I thinking, wanting to please him? Or kissing him? Or allowing butterflies to gather in my stomach like an invading force? I’d lost my mind. My body stiffened, and my eyes flew open. “It’s not working.”
“I have faith in you.” His breath tickled the shell of my ear, and the shiver that ran down my spine had nothing to do with the cold. “Try again. Please, Haven.”
The wind cut straight through the cloak Grandmother gave me. That was the only reason I complied. I pictured the cloak Pierce described. I could almost feel its weight settling upon my shoulders, the softness of fur against my windblown cheek, the comforting warmth. Then I did feel those things.
“You did it!” Pierce sounded almost exuberant. Definitely triumphant.
My cheeks warmed, and I thrust my cold hands into the cloak’s deep, fur-lined pockets. “It was your excellent description.” And his encouragement.
He shook his head, and a strand of his white hair blewacross my cheek. “Not me. You. It was all you.” He drew out the wordyou, giving it more importance than it deserved. “You’re amazing.”
I couldn’t contain my answering smile and was grateful he couldn’t see my reaction to his praise. Thankfully, the unexpected, unwelcome gooey feelings in my chest were entirely invisible. I bit my lower lip. Hard enough to hurt. The sudden pain was a reminder. Letting Pierce past my defenses was insane. Worse than insane. Trusting him could get me killed. The guard wouldn’t protect me. Not Grayson. Not Flynn. Not Teal. Not even Pierce. In their eyes, I was a shield. Expendable.
Grayson and the wyvern.He’d come back to fight the beast. He could have run. He hadn’t.
Then again, the wyvern would have chased them, and without me blocking its poison, they might have died.
And here I was, wrapped in Pierce’s arms while he worried about my warmth. He’d kissed me like I mattered, fought beside me like I was worth saving. He’d claimed me. Maybe he saw past my ability to shield. Perhaps he saw a woman, not a weapon in an unwinnable war. “At the inn …”
“Yes?”
“You said I was yours.”
The arms circling me stiffened. “You’re your own woman, but …”
“But what?” I needed to understand what that possessive claim meant. Especially after he’d jumped away from our kiss. His rejection still stung.
He was quiet for so long I wondered if he’d answer me. When he finally spoke, his voice was a rough whisper. “The mere thought of anyone else touching you makes me want to commit murder.”
Not the answer I was expecting. My mouth opened and closed as I tried to find aresponse.
“Snow!” I was almost grateful that Flynn had broken the tension.
Fat white flakes fell from the night sky. “It’s beautiful.”
“You’ve never seen snow?” asked Pierce. “Hold out your tongue.”
Was he serious? I twisted until I could see his face.
“Do it,” he whispered into my ear. His voice was pure seduction. Warm and rich and growly. Not a single woman in all of Legacia could have ignored his demand.
