Auren kneels beside the crumpled mess. He doesn’t lecture or mock me. He simply begins rebuilding it, fitting poles back into place with practiced ease while I stand there clutching the stake like an idiot.
“Come here,” he says.
When I hesitate, Auren looks up at me, eyes glowing faintly in the dimming light. “Vivienne.”
Something about the way he says my name makes my irritation falter, and I step closer.
He takes the stake from me, then places it back in my palm. His sharp claws brush lightly across my knuckles as he adjusts my grip with his own hand over mine.
“This angle,” he murmurs in my ear. “Not straight down. You drive it in, so the tension holds.”
He shifts behind me, close enough that his chest presses against my back. Heat floods my cheeks, my heart pounding as his breath brushes my neck when he speaks. Every part of me is suddenly aware of him—his warmth, the strength in his arms, the maddening patience with which he guides my hands.
I tell myself it’s practical. That it means nothing, and I would feel this way if any man was this close. But it’s a lie. Because no man has ever been this close to me. And no man has ever made me feel so… steady.
Auren’s voice drops slightly. “Again.”
I force myself to breathe and then drive the stake into the earth with the angle he shows me. I smile as it holds.
Auren’s hand stays over mine a moment before he finally pulls away, and I’m surprised by the faint sense of loss where his touch had been. “Good,” he says.
I swallow, pretending my throat isn’t suddenly dry. “It’s still a flimsy tent.”
His lips curl slightly at the edges. “Of course it is.”
After we set up the second tent, he moves to the firepit, gathering twigs and dry bark from his pack, arranging them with methodical care. He pulls out two rocks. “They’re called firestones. Strike them like this to make them spark.”
He hits them together rather hard, then hands them to me. I try a few times, but only a pitiful spark jumps from the stones, fizzling out before it can land on the kindling. I blow out a frustrated sigh. “What if it doesn’t work?”
“Then we eat cold food.” His eyes flick to mine, full of mirth. “And you complain.”
I scowl. I hate that he has learned me so quickly. “I donotcomplain.”
He arches a teasing brow. “Of course not.”
Gritting my teeth, I strike the stones again. Sparks fly, but nothing catches on the pile. After a few more tries, my pride and patience begin to fray, and I toss the stones to the ground. “This is pointless. Since you’re such an expert, why don’t you do it?”
“I could.”
“Then why don’t you?”
His gaze shifts, growing serious. “Because if I am ever not here, you need to know how to do this.”
The words strike deeper than they should. I don’t like that he said it so calmly, as if it’s simply truth. As if he has already imagined this scenario, and cares enough to prepare me for it.
I don’t know why, but I distinctly dislike the idea of a world where he doesn’t exist. Even if I’m not thrilled at the idea of our marriage, Auren is a good man… when he’s not being insufferable, that is. “That’s a rather dramatic thing to say, isn’t it?”
“I’m a warrior, Vivienne. I would be remiss if I didn’t teach you what you needed to know should anything happen to me.”
An uncomfortable tightness squeezes my chest, but before I can say anything, he offers me the stones. “Now, try again.”
I snatch them from him. “Fine.”
He guides my hands once more, his palms covering mine. “Not force,” he murmurs near my cheek. “Control.”
This time, when I strike them together, a spark catches, turning into a small flame that slowly begins to grow until it finally takes hold, crackling to life in the pit.
A beaming smile lights my face.Idid that. Not a servant, not a guard.Me.
