Vaelen veers off the road without warning.
I stiffen. “What are you doing?”
“Finding water.”
The way he says it so casually, as if this is something that should be obvious, only irritates me further.
The forest closes in fully now, the air turns damp and cool, and the sounds of the woods grow louder. Dread settles within, but I refuse to show it. If I must endure eating and eventually sleeping out in the open like an Orc or an Ogre, I will do so with composure.
We break into a small clearing beside a narrow river. The water slides over stones in a steady murmur, reflecting the lastthreads of gold in the sky. The ground is uneven, scattered with roots and fallen leaves.
“This should do,” Auren says, pulling lightly on the reins to bring Vaelen to a halt. “We’ll stop here to rest.”
Auren dismounts first and then carefully lifts me off Vaelen’s back, setting me gently onto the ground. My shoes slip on a patch of moss, but he steadies me with a hand at my elbow.
That single touch sends a traitorous flutter through my chest. He’s always so aware of me and everything I’m doing. I’ve never been the object of such intense focus before.It should unsettle me how closely he watches me, but it doesn’t. Instead, it makes me feel safe and protected.
Sunlight spears through the trees. The air is crisp, scented with pine and damp earth, the distant murmur of the stream behind us. I watch from where I sit on a fallen log as Auren arranges food on a wooden platter with a level of care that surprises me. He slices a wedge of sharp cheese, places it beside a few pieces of dried fruit, then carefully folds slices of cured meat before adding them as well.
My stomach does a strange little flip when he hands it to me before he’s even made himself a plate.
Next, he stacks a few branches and kindling, arranging them carefully. When he’s finished, he steps back and with a flick of his wrist sends an arc of blue magic toward the pile, and I watch in wonder as it catches fire.
My mouth drifts open, but I quickly shut it before he can notice.
He then takes a metal pot, dips it into the stream, and sets it over the flames. “What are you boiling water for?”
He looks up at me and flashes his infuriatingly handsome smile. “For your tea.”
I blink. “My tea?”
His mouth lifts at the corner. “Last night, you seemed to enjoy your evening tea, and I thought you might find it comforting.”
A strange warmth curls through my chest that he noticed something so small, but I push it down. “You’re… surprisingly observant.”
“As any good husband should be.” Auren smirks. “Don’t you agree?”
I scowl at him, but he only chuckles.
I turn my attention to the fire. “Why not just heat the water with magic?”
He leans back on his heels, resting his arms on his thighs as he regards me. “I could.”
“But?”
“I wasn’t sure how you’d react if I used too much magic.”
My brows knit together. “Why would I care?”
He looks toward the stream, the reflection of flames dancing in the water. “Many humans find magic unsettling.”
“Why?”
His glowing blue eyes meet mine. “Because it makes them wonder what we’re truly capable of.”
I suppose he’s right to be cautious. There are many who are afraid of the Elves and the Fae for exactly this reason. Perhaps it is human nature to fear the unknown and anything different from them. I nod slowly. “That makes sense.”
Auren watches me for another moment before returning his attention to the fire.
