Rowan didn’t say anything, but his expression said plenty. Briar went to grab the gift he’d made from under the tree, wrapped like origami with mistletoe tucked in the folds. “Remember, you have to pretend to be surprised.”
“I told you, I didn’t see anything.”
He unwrapped it one corner at a time, lifted the lid. Inside lay a necklace of leather twine. At the end, one of Vatii’s feathers was tied with a gold Christmas bell that didn’t ring when Rowan picked it up.
“It’s charmed,” Briar said. “I’ve enchanted it so if you ever find yourself wandering into the forest again, the bell will ring, and it will alert me that something’s happened to you. See?” He pulled on the neck of his jumper. A rune in the shape of a diamond with a dot in the center sat in the middle of his chest.
Rowan didn’t respond for long enough that Briar wondered if he’d miscalculated, if this gift served only to remind Rowan of something terrible rather than expressing how badly Briar wanted to protect him.
Then Rowan put the necklace over his head and whispered, “Thank you.” He made the two words sound grand.
They spent the rest of the evening playing board games until Ciara had to go to bed. Basking in good food, drink, and company, Briar caught himself reminiscing over nights spent like this with his mother before she’d gotten ill. Watching old black-and-white films. Making elaborate cheese boards. Sharing a box of chocolates, his mother always leaving his favorite caramels. He hadn’t felt like that in a long time. The only thing tarnishing his good mood was the flicker of a muscle in his hand.
Rowan made motions to depart, and it was another fifteen minutes of saying goodbyes and thank-yous, then lapsing into conversation, then goodbyes again. They finally made it out the door and into the chill night. Snow fluttered down in big fluffy flakes.
“I have something to show you,” Rowan said.
He led Briar into the alley behind Maebh’s pub. There, under a blanket of snow, was a long wooden sledge. Rowan picked up the rope tied to its front.
“Asked Sorcha if we could borrow it. Have you ever been?”
Briar grinned. He hadn’t.
They traipsed through town, snow crunching underfoot, the sledge dragging behind them. Rowan took him to the fields where they’d hadtheir second kiss. At the top of a steep hill, he set the sledge facing the incline and instructed Briar to hop on. It had been made for more than one, but Rowan stood behind it and shoved.
Briar let out a yell. The nose of the sledge angled downward, and he got a good look at how steep the ground went and how far down the bottom was as gravity took hold. Cold stung his cheeks, a laugh stolen by the wind. He hit a bump that sent him swerving, but he managed to swing his body sideways as counterbalance. He wobbled and slid the rest of the way, coming to a sudden stop in a drift at the bottom. Vatii winged after him, cawing joyously.
He turned around to see Rowan, a faraway waving shape on the hilltop.
Euphoric and dizzy, Briar grabbed the sledge rope and started up the hill again. Rowan came to meet him halfway.
Briar insisted they both go. Rowan didn’t think they’d both fit, but Briar was determined. He sat in the front, Rowan wedged behind him with both legs stuck out to either side.
“It’s going to crash,” he said in Briar’s ear.
They did crash.
As they sped down the slope, Rowan’s weight dragged the sledge leeway. They tipped out, rolled and skidded down the hill, snow rucking up under their clothes. They came to a stop with Rowan half atop him, breath frosting the air in silver puffs. Briar shuddered, laughing, teeth chattering. Rowan had snow in his hair and all over his face. With mittened hands, Briar wiped it away.
Cheeks glowing red, Briar moved to kiss him at the same time Rowan did. They knocked foreheads, burst out laughing and groaning. Rowan kissed the throbbing spot where Briar would have a goose egg later, and then kissed his mouth. Briar’s entire body felt heavy, drunk on the desire tasted between them. Rowan pulled off his mittens to put hands as hot as irons under Briar’s clothes, making him gasp. He broke away to apologize, only for Briar to chase his mouth and drag him into the snowbank.
It was the sort of joyous moment Briar thought only happened to people with richer, luckier lives than his.
Rowan’s heart was a hearth, the circle of his arms a home, and Briar felt sick with the longing to stay there forever.
He realized, with a drop in his stomach, that he was falling in love.
This wasn’t casual.
He wasn’t sure it ever had been.
Rowan drew away, panting. His nervousness from earlier returned. With one hand, he reached for his pocket. At the same time, splintering white light formed a halo in Briar’s vision.
Rowan said, “Briar, I—Briar?”
Briar tried to answer but choked. The lights in his vision spidered and spread. His body jerked. For the second time that week, the curse took him.
CHAPTER 17
