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The half-giant has to be over seven feet tall. Even from here, I can tell he’s hunched slightly over the forge, the ceiling forcing him to duck whenever he moves too quickly. His long brown hair is tied back with a leather cord, exposing a rugged face framed by a thick beard and glacier‑blue eyes.
The furnace paints his tan skin in warm amber light, catching on old scars that disappear beneath the rolled sleeves of his tunic. Every swing of his hammer ripples through broad shoulders and forearms built from years of shaping steel.
We’ve never actually spoken, but I’ve admired him from afar ever since he moved here a few years ago.
He’s quiet. Keeps to himself. The whispers around town say he has a troubled past and spent his childhood in an orphanage. No one seems to know much more than that.
Honestly, the goddesses have a wicked sense of humor.
They put the most attractive man in Thistle Grove directly across the street from me… and apparently forgot to give me the courage to walk over and introduce myself.
After a moment, I ease the front door shut and lean back against it, letting out a slow, steadying breath.
“You ogling the blacksmith again, Doc?”
My eyes fly open.
Elowen strolls in from their lunch break carrying a paper sack tucked beneath one arm, a knowing grin already spreading across their face.
My veterinary apprentice has impeccable timing.
They’re training under me to become a licensed healer, and despite being one of the smallest fae I’ve ever met, they possess enough confidence to intimidate a mountain troll. Somewhere over the course of their apprenticeship, their relentless determination—and complete lack of a filter—has earned my respect.
I’d never tell them that, of course. It’d go straight to their head.
“I wasn’t—”
“Doc, please.” They roll their eyes, tucking a strand of platinum-blond hair behind a pointed ear adorned with tiny gold cuffs and mismatched piercings. “I’ve caught you staring at Lucan Bloodstone through that window at least twice a day for the past year.”
I groan. “That’s an exaggeration.”
“It really isn’t.” A mischievous grin spreads across their face. “You’ve got drool on your chin.”
“I do not!”
Even as I protest, I instinctively swipe the sleeve of my white coat across my mouth.
Just to be safe.
Elowen doubles over laughing. “Oh, you’re hopeless, Doc.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “Shut up.”
“I’ll stop teasing you when you finally work up the nerve to introduce yourself.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Still chuckling, they jerk their head toward the exam rooms. “Come on. We’ve got a raven coming in at two with a cracked beak, and unless you’re planning to march across the street and ask the handsome blacksmith on a date, I’d suggest you stop daydreaming and get back to work.”
I sneak one last glance through the front window.
Lucan is still at his forge, hammer ringing against glowing steel, completely oblivious to my existence.
Maybe that’s for the best.
With a quiet sigh, I tear my eyes away from the window and follow Elowen deeper into the clinic.
