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The thought of the dark sorcerer turning his attention to the sacredness kept safe here was a horror that made Cedric’s stomach turn.
No, he admonished himself. Elderglade is safe. The sanctuary is safe, the mixedborns who live here are safe.
She is safe.
Perhaps if he repeated it enough times, he could will it true.
Cedric’s grip tightened on the railing as he took another breath, inhaling more of Elderglade’s clean scent. But there was something else there now too—a whisper of tart cherry and almond and the faintest hint of blossoming merryleaf.
He turned.
Elyria stood in the doorway, wrapped in one of the soft green blankets from their bed. Her hair was braided down one shoulder, the damp ends curling against the simple shift she wore, leaving a wet circle that clung to the delicate ridge of her collarbone. She’d clearly washed up while Cedric had been brooding.
She looked good. There was still exhaustion in her jewel-toned gaze, a sluggishness to the way her bare feet shuffled across the porch. But there was color in her cheeks and a mischievous half-tipped grin playing at her lips.
The sight of her made his chest ache.
Soft white linen fell to her knees, the neckline loose, slouching off her other shoulder. Cedric’s eyes widened at the sight of her bondmark, once again looking like it was nearly gleaming in the pale moonlight.
Elyria came up beside him, bumping his shoulder with hers and taking in the picturesque nighttime scene. The girl by the stream had finished her washing and was walking away with her basket balanced on her head, short green wings fluttering behind her. The elderly woman three houses down laid out her cards with a victorious whoop. Her partner simply shook his head, smiling all the while.
“Beautiful,” Elyria said.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes never leaving her face. “It really is.”
“Now, less beautiful was waking up in that bed alone.” She turned, lifting a single finger to wag it back and forth in his face. “Not very knightly of you, Sir Thorne.” She paused. “Then again, you have a bit of a different role to fill now, don’t you?”
“Stars above,” Cedric muttered, but it came out sounding more like a groan.
“Am I wrong, Your Highness?”
He wanted to say how much he hated it when she called him that, but the rush of blood that went directly south at the sound of her voice in his head begged to differ.
The smile that graced her perfect face was all too knowing.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he managed to say back down the bond. He straightened, suddenly self-conscious about what she might have heard while he was out here lost in his thoughts. He didn’t think that speaking mind-to-mind worked that way. He did remember Elyria telling him it was the same as conversing with someone, it just so happened that they were the only two able to participate in the conversation. But then, it wasn’t as though he’d been able to test it too thoroughly. They hadn’t exactly had long to get used to it. They’d had so little time together after their bonding, really. So little time before they were separated.
Before she was taken.
That primal rage stirred in Cedric’s chest again at the thought, at the unbidden memories. And before he knew it, her cherry-almond scent was replaced with that of burning wood.
“Hey.” Elyria covered Cedric’s hand with hers, prying it away from the singed railing. She placed it over her heart instead, and the gentle thump of her heartbeat beneath his palm provided Cedric with a whole new kind of peace.
Safe.
Safe.
Safe.
“I’m fine. Everything’s going to be fine,” she said, and from the way her own uncertainty flickered across their bond, Cedric could tell she didn’t know if she believed that. But she was trying, for him. And he would try for her too.
He shifted so he faced her, his foot brushing against the blanket that was now pooled at their feet. Elyria must have dropped it when she reached for him. He stooped down to pick it up, then draped it around her shoulders when he stood, drawing her into his arms.
Everything in him sighed at the feel of her body lined up against his—his hands going to her waist, his chin resting in the hair on the side of her head. For a few moments, they simply stood like that, breathing in sync, their bond humming with contentment.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he finally said, offering a sheepish smile. “Tried extra hard to be quiet.”
She tipped her head back to look at him. “Hard to be quiet when it’s so loud in here.” She tapped her fingers gently against the center of his chest. “And here.” The pad of her thumb swept over his temple.
