Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
He got out of bed and surprisingly saw understanding in her eyes and in her soft smile. She knew there could never be anything between them and she accepted it.
So, why did he feel as if he just lost the most precious thing in his life?
Chapter Twelve
Morning Departure
Skellie’s Inn
How did things return to normal when everything had changed?
Dravic grabbed his cloak off the chair the next morning near the hearth and caught the sweet scent of her hair lingering on the wool. Why did he now only notice how the sweet scent of her hair clung to his cloak? Or the way her lips looked as though the morning dew forever touched them.
He shook his head, refusing such thoughts, and dropped his cloak over her shoulders, and silently ordered himself to remember she was only his trusted companion.
Yet as he watched her turn to face him, he realized one undeniable truth… things between them would never be the same again.
What did not change was that he spoke to her as if she could hear him. “The storm has stopped, though the accumulated snow will make the journey difficult. We have no choice. We must leave and return to the castle.”
She might not be able to hear him, but his actions spoke just as loudly. When his cloak fell over her shoulders, she knew it meant they were leaving.
He opened the door, and cold morning air swept into the cottage. Snow lay deep across the forest, but the sky had cleared and no fresh flakes fell.
Dravic stepped outside, then gestured she was to follow him. She did, his powerful strides clearing a path in the snow as they kept close to the cottage to reach the lean-to where the horse had been sheltered through the storm.
Adira stood aside as he prepared the animal for the journey and could not help but think how awkward it had been from the moment she woke this morning.
The king had kept his distance, careful not to stand too close or allow their arms to brush. He had spoken little, when usually he was talkative upon waking. She had come to understand through his gestures and expressions that he talked about his plans for the day and had come to accept them as her plans as well.
This morning, however, was different. He talked little and his eyes had drifted several times to her lips before he quickly looked away.
She could not forget their kisses. She did not want to since there was a good chance she would never be kissed again.
Her fingers rose to touch her lips before she stopped herself. No matter how hard she tried, she could still feel his mouth on hers and the way his arms had held her close.
She quickly dropped her hand as the king turned toward her.
He slipped his cloak off her and around his shoulders. Then he took firm hold of her waist to lift her onto the horse. He hadn’t noticed until now how his hands fit so perfectly at the gentle curve there and how it seemed that she was meant for him and him alone.
A groan rumbled unbidden in his chest and without a word, he lifted her effortlessly into the saddle, then he mounted behind her.
He tucked her close against him, wrapping his cloak around them both. There was no avoiding it. They had but one cloak to share. Besides, the deep snow demanded the horse pick his way carefully through the forest. Keeping her close against him was the safest way to keep her secure if the horse stumbled.
He settled one arm around her waist and gathered the reins.
The journey would not be an easy one… in more ways than one.
The horse lurched through the deep snow, each careful step sinking nearly to its knees before it fought free to take another.
Dravic kept one arm firmly around Adira while the other guided the reins. More than once the horse slipped beneath them, only to regain its footing before either rider was unseated.
Hours passed, though little distance seemed gained.
The storm had transformed the forest.
Familiar paths lay buried beneath drifts that nearly reached the horse’s belly. Branches, broken beneath the weight of snow, blocked trails he would have otherwise taken, forcing him to search for another way through the towering pines. More than once, he was forced to turn back altogether when fallen trees formed an impassable wall.
The cold settled into his bones despite the steady pace.
He scowled.
They should have reached more familiar ground by now. Instead, the forest appeared endless, each snow-covered ridge giving way to another exactly like it.
He searched for some familiar landmark—a stream, an outcropping of stone, the ancient pines that grew close to the castle—but the storm had erased every point of reference beneath its white blanket.
Perhaps it would have been wiser to remain in the cottage another day. The thought came reluctantly and it was unlike him to question a decision once it had been made. Yet the storm had proven fiercer than he had anticipated.