Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
He reached for her hand, his voice rougher than he intended. “Do not lie to me, Fawn. If danger circles us, I need to know. How else can I keep you safe?”
Her heart squeezed at the rawness in his tone. He worried for her, yet she wondered about him. What if her truth was uncovered? What if fear turned the clan against him for wedding a witch? The thought chilled her more than the winter wind ever could.
She gave thought to his question, her gaze turning toward the shuttered window. “The ravens…” Her voice softened. “They may not be of the wild. Their gathering could be the work of dark forces.”
Rhodes’s eyes narrowed. “Dark forces… is it possible they followed Cander here?”
Fawn nodded slowly. “It could be. Whoever rules the ravens may not have liked that he slipped away. If so, it’s not just him who’s in danger, Rhodes. It could mean danger for the whole clan.”
The fire snapped in the hearth, the only sound her words that hung between them.
Rhodes took her hand, his grip firm but not unkind, and guided her toward the pair of chairs drawn close to the hearth. He lowered himself into one and eased her onto his lap, his arms wrapping around her as if by sheer strength he could bar the darkness from touching her.
The firelight bathed her hair in glints of copper and gold, the scent of herbs and woodsmoke clinging to her shift. He pressed his face briefly against her curls, breathing her in, needing the steadiness she alone gave him.
His thoughts were a storm, ravens circling, whispers of witches, shadows thickening around the clan. But beneath it all lay the sharper fear, the one he could not give voice to… losing her. Losing the only woman he could ever love.
“You shouldn’t have to bear this,” he murmured, his voice rough against her temple.
Her arms slipped around his shoulders, holding him as tightly as he held her. “I’ll bear whatever comes,” she whispered back. “So long as I bear it with you.”
Something in him gave way at her words, the knot in his chest loosening. He tipped her chin up, his gaze locking with hers, firelight dancing in the green depths. Slowly, he pressed his mouth to hers, a tender kiss but threaded with urgency, as though sealing a vow neither of them had spoken aloud.
When they drew apart, foreheads resting together, the world beyond the shuttered windows seemed distant. For that moment, there were only them, two hearts, bound together against the gathering dark.
From his nest near the window, Rook shifted, his black eyes gleaming in the firelight. His head cocked, unblinking, as though he weighed what he saw—guardian or harbinger, none could tell.
CHAPTER 23
Two days passed. Two days of ravens perched in the bare trees near the keep, their black wings a shadow against the winter sky. Two days of murmurs rippling through the village, fear growing as steady as the snow that drifted across the ground.
Fawn had heard nothing from her mother. Each morning, she woke with hope, each night she went to bed with unease pressing heavier against her heart. Though her husband quickly changed that with his intimate touches or a heated look that fired her passion and had them tumbling into bed to put out the blaze or linger in it until the fire consumed them.
Making love with Rhodes was magical, each and every time. The intimate act brought them closer together as if each time they came together, they became part of each other, forever bound together.
Fawn walked through the village, Sprig nestled snugly in the pouch of her cloak, his little head poking out to peer at the bustle around them. Yet there was little cheer in the air. Men kept their heads low, their work quick and clipped. Women muttered to one another while keeping wary eyes on the sky. Children, usually quick to laugh and play even in the snow, lingered closer to their mothers.
She came upon Sara and Elune near the weaving shed, both women speaking in low tones. They greeted her warmly, but even Sara’s smile did not reach her eyes.
“The people are uneasy,” Elune said softly, her wrinkled hands clasped around a basket she had yet to fill. “They see those birds and think of witches and the danger they bring.”
Fawn looked at the trees close to the keep. Ravens filled many of the branches and their numbers grew by the day.
Sara nodded. “Aye, they’ve whispered of it since dawn. None will pass beneath the trees where they sit.”
Before Fawn could answer, a harsh squawk split the air. Heads turned upward. A flurry of black wings rose as the ravens swooped, chasing two doves through the sky. The doves darted frantically, then veered toward the keep. Hearts clenched as the birds flew straight through the open turret window, vanishing inside.