She placed her hand in mine, and I pulled her closer. The pad of her finger was pinpricked. Tiniest teeth marks welled with blood.
“Hmm.” I pressed against the sides of the wound—ever so gently—and the droplet grew, bright red against white snow. I brought her hand to my mouth. My lips ran along the sensitive skin, salt and iron blooming on my tongue.
“Harkin…” Her lips parted, eyes heavy lidded. We were so close now, our chests brushed.
I dropped her hand with a shake of my head.Fuck.
Her expression was indiscernible as she backed away, and I didn’t follow. I would let her bandage her own wounds this time.
Chapter twenty-three
Harkin
The turn of the season slipped away with little fanfare. Bare limbs of trees made a striking impression on the flat gray sky, and our breath fogged around us in billowing, frosted puffs.
Seren had made excellent progress in her training. She was able to wield her mágik with little instruction now that she had mastered the basics, and we were able to work in tandem. I bolstered the path of her projectiles with a strong gust of wind, nudging them and speeding their flight until their aim struck true and fast. We moved, backs pressed together in a fighting stance. Hands raised and mágik flowing.
We were a sight to behold.
Our formidable tree enemies—having been thoroughly inspected for Tünécris—did not stand a chance between our combined might, and when she didn’t think I was looking, I noticed a small smile creeping across her face.
Seren was beginning to enjoy this feeling, the control she could have over her power. I could see it, and I wondered if she had yet admitted it to herself. It grew more likely by the day.
The weeks whiled away, and I thought she was ready to take on an actual, living opponent. Fortunately for us, the Váracis Erva was not lacking in malevolent creatures. Perhaps we might find anotherSziravit. I was sure Seren would not mind a second chance to face the spirits.
I broached the topic carefully over a shared meal, which was the time she was most often amenable. “I think the trees have grown tired of our antics.”
Seren narrowed her eyes at me. “Speak plainly, please.”
“Please?” I could not help the smirk which curled my lips.
“Harkin.” Her tone held a note of warning, but I could see the way she held back her grin. She pressed her mouth into a frown that was entirely unconvincing.
“I think you’re ready for more. I propose we venture a bit further from our little glade and seek out a more worthy adversary to practice against.” I steepled my hands in front of me as I waited for her answer.
Seren considered this, her supper forgotten on the table before her. A flicker of emotion crossed her face: fear, uncertainty, and then resolve. “You’re right. I am ready.”
“That easy?” I lifted my brows in surprise.
“Shall I change my mind?” She asked around a mouthful of fluffy bread.
“No, no! I couldn’t agree more. Tonight, then.”
She waited beneath the first fall of snow. Flurries drifted down from the darkened sky as if in slow motion. They landed in Seren’s hair, catching on her eyelashes as she blinked up at them in wonder. I watched her for a few moments more, equal parts enraptured by her and proud at the ease with which she summoned her mágik, those subtle silver threads of power winding around her and through the falling snow.
She smiled when she noticed me, and my heart stuttered. I wished it wouldn’t.
I bounded over to her, raising her sword between us. It was the last blade of hers that I still had in my possession, but she had more than earned it back. I knelt before her, presenting the blade with a flourish.
“I believe this belongs to you, Guardian Corso.”
Seren rolled her eyes, but I saw the joy sparkling beneath the surface. I felt it as her fingers brushed mine.
“Guardian Corso is no more,” she reminded me. “But thank you. For the sword and for everything else.”
“You’re welcome, Ren. Now, let’s see what the Váracis Erva has in store for us.”
We traveled on foot through the dark forest paths. Seren lit our way with her mágik, and I was grateful for it. The night was dreadfully quiet under the softening of snowfall.
