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“This is a lovely fantasy,” Dessin mocks. “But Skylenna and I aren’t exactly big believers of magic. But you are correct about one thing. I do not trust easily, if ever.”
The woman nods. “We know. But there are things we’d like to give you for your journey. Things we’ve saved in our artifacts for a very long time, locked away until the day you would arrive.”
“Stay the night or as long as you require. We’ll visit you in the morning with what you’ll need for your travels.” The old man to the left sounds like he hasn’t spoken in years. His voice is hoarse, like a buggy sputtering as it has run out of fuel.
Runa shows us out, nodding her head at the cave opening to guide us to our rooms.
~
Not rooms.
Room.
One bed. No changing curtains. No spare cot.
“I should remind you that you are to keep up the ruse you displayed in the tavern when you leave this room. The elders believe the prophecy, but my generation won’t be convinced. They’ll see the two of you as outsiders. Dangerous.” Runa lights a few gaslit globes, revealing the sooty cave walls, a small fireplace with wolf statues, and scattered framed paintings of dark warrior elves.
Dessin and I pretend not to notice the small bed as we take in the details of the room.
“Want me to stay for a nightcap? A lickety-split roll in the hay?” Runa asks, voice feminine and seductive.
I glare at her until she breaks into a mischievous smile and closes the door as she leaves.
“I’d like to nominate Runa for your hit list,” I blurt out.
Dessin’s head lowers as he chuckles. He’s turned his back to me, so I watch his shoulders shake with reluctant laughter.
“Jealous, are we?”
“No,” I scoff. “I just don’t like how crude she is.”
He glances back at me with a raised brow. “You don’t like how crude she is toward me.”
True, but don’t call me on it!
“I don’t care at all.” I shrug, running my fingers along the cave wall. “If you’re into her, help yourself.”
He’s chuckling again. Delight flutters in my chest. I wish that sound didn’t cause such an unwanted response from my body.
“Oh, well, if you don’t care…” Dessin takes three slow steps toward the door.
“Take another step, and you’re sleeping on the cold, hard floor tonight,” I snap.
His head tips back as he barks out another laugh. I turn my head so he doesn’t see my smile. God, what I’d do to hear his laughter more often. Dessin faces me, smirking, devilish and handsome. I can’t blame Runa for looking at him and wanting what she wants.
He’s a masterpiece.
But his stare, although appearing innocent, lingers on me a moment too long. My heart slips from its shelf, falling the way it would when your foot misses a step.
“I should get dressed for bed,” I tell him.
He turns away from me, facing the wall. I throw off my cloak, unlace my boots, and shimmy my way out of the straps and wires I’m dressed in. Runa left a black nightgown that is thinner than tissue paper and shorter than anything I’ve worn.
But it’s all I have.
Before I can slip under the blankets on the small bed, Dessin twists to look at me, his eyes of dynamite and steel tracing over every inch of my skin. His jaw clenches.
“I won’t make you sleep on the floor.” I smile.
