But he wasn’t that man. She couldn’t trust him. She hated him for the way he’d treated Val, for hunting her down, for planning to hand her back to Grendel.
A small voice inside her whispered that he hadn’t known the truth. Somehow, he’d been lied to. That maybe, just maybe, she could genuinely convince him. And, at that moment, sitting next to his big warm body, feeling his fingers sweep so very gently down her face, she felt safe for the first time in weeks. More than safe. She was with Tristan. And for the first time ever, he was genuinely, truly looking at her.
“How did you find me, anyway?” she asked softly, curious and wanting to change the subject, to shake off the confusing mix of emotions he was causing.
Tristan gave the kind of grunt that she was starting to recognize as reluctant amusement. “Sheer luck. We lost your trail over the forest in the middle of nowhere. We had no idea which way to go, but one of the men remembered a town a few hours’ ride away, so we thought we might as well start there. At the very least, we might find somewhere warm to sleep. We got there late evening and showed your picture around after dinner. A woman in a pawn shop remembered you.”
“Bloody broker,” Nim muttered. “I knew I couldn’t trust her.”
His chuckle sounded genuine. “We didn’t find you in the town, so we took a chance and spread out along the road. We were told that you were conspiring with Val, so we assumed you’d head north toward Kaerlud. Mathos calculated how far he expected you to get and then predicted you’d sleep, and that we’d easily spot you on the empty road in the morning. He was right.”
Sheer luck for them, maybe. The worst kind of luck for her.
“I’m glad we found you, Nim. That you’re not out here alone anymore,” he admitted quietly.
Gods. He sounded so genuine. Tristan was sitting with her, listening to her, promising to protect her. His half-grin reminding her so much of the boy she’d known that it physically hurt.
She was about to ask him what he was going to do with her when he sat up to reach into his pocket. He opened her fingers gently and placed something warm and heavy in the center of her palm.
She looked down and let out a strangled sob. It was Val’s signet ring.
“Oh, gods.” Tristan looked deeply unsettled. “Now I made you cry again.”
“No,” she tried to explain, clutching Val’s ring tightly against her chest, “I’m crying because I thought it was gone forever, along with everything else. Everyone else. Thank you.”
A thought struck her. “But it must have cost you a lot. I’ll pay you back, I promise. As soon as I can.”
Tristan looked even more uncomfortable, shifting where he sat. “Please, don’t. It’s yours. Your family’s. It should never have been taken from you.”
He looked so serious and honorable, so much like she remembered him. And she was so relieved, so glad to have Val’s ring back in her hand, that she acted without thinking. Simply leaned over and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into the warm skin at his throat where his pulse beat strong and steady.
His whole body went stiff, and she felt her face blaze with embarrassment. She started to pull away, wishing she hadn’t done such a stupid thing. But before she could, his arms enclosed her in a tight band, holding her firmly.
She froze, confused and unsettled, but he just held her patiently. Slowly, she relaxed again, enjoying his scent of warm leather and male skin, the sound of his heartbeat thudding in her ear. Enjoying being cared for in a way that she had thought she may never feel again.
He turned, then, using his strong arms to lift her sideways and onto his lap, where her head could nestle against his chest, her body surrounded and protected by his, sheltered and safe.
Slowly, she let go of all the thoughts of Grendel, of being hunted and alone, of whether or not she could trust Tristan or any of his squad, slipping into the peace of knowing that he was holding her.
They stayed like that, breathing quietly in the dappled sunlight as birds called and sang around them. She felt a soft pressure on her hair and wondered if he had kissed her.
Eventually she looked up to see him staring down at her, eyes intent. She couldn’t help her answering smile or the tiny thrill as his eyes flickered to her lips.
How many times had she dreamed of exactly this moment?
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“What for?” His voice rumbled against her ear.
“For believing me. For making me feel safe.”
“Mmm.” The rumble felt soft and contented.
She felt the same. But that didn’t change how little time they had.
“So,” she asked against his chest, “what do you think would be the best way to rescue Val?”
“What?” he asked roughly, his face going hard.
