Slowly, realization dawns.
The marketplace.
I think of all the times I’d wandered slightly ahead of Merak, utterly captivated by Ellonnar. The floating ice clouds. The musicians. The snowy streets and strange new sights. The glimmering, ussha-blessed frost that covered the vegetation within the settlement and beyond.
Gods.
While I’d been gawking at everything like a bewildered child, Merak had apparently been secretly buying me gifts.
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
The sneaky fae male.
I truly had no idea.
Whenever he’d asked if I wished for him to purchase a particular item for me, I had declined every time. How could I have accepted? I was still feeling overwhelmed by the clothes and shoes he’d given me earlier that morning.
Suspecting Merak wants to give me these items on his own time, I rush to put everything back in place, not wanting him to know what I discovered. But I can’t keep the smile from my face.
I carefully close the rucksack and rise to my feet. My eyes drift toward the floor-length mirror near the windows, and for a moment, I simply gaze at my reflection.
The woman staring back at me hardly looks familiar. The dark circles that are usually present beneath my eyes have faded, and my cheeks hold a touch of color for the first time in a long time. The green gown fits me beautifully, and after everything that’s happened over the last month, starting with the attack on Braemar, I scarcely recognize myself looking so healthy. So alive. And yes, even happy.
I smooth my palms over the fur-lined skirt of the gown, then lift a hand to tame a few stubborn strands of hair. The ribbons in Merak’s rucksack would come in handy right now, though I don’t feel bold enough to take one. I pick up the brush from the vanity and try to coax my wavy locks into place as best I can.
I have no idea why I suddenly care so much about looking presentable.
Well, that isn’t quite true.
I know exactly why.
Heat sears my cheeks.
After setting the brush aside, I draw in a slow breath and make my way toward the bedroom door. I emerge into the hallway and glance around the open areas of the suite, but I don’t immediately spot my mate.
I expect to find Merak waiting near the balcony doors, perhaps staring out at the ussha-blessed landscape and the ice clouds. Or seated at the desk in the library writing a letter to King Theron or Commander Ashvale. But he’s in neither of those places.
Instead, I find him in the sitting room.
Utterly shocked, I stare.
He is asleep.
He lies stretched across the sofa near the fire, and the bird is curled contentedly in the crook of his arm, nestled in the folded blanket I made into a nest yesterday. The bird is awake, its beady black eyes taking me in as I stand in the doorway, but it seems perfectly calm.
For a long moment, I simply stand there.
I always like it when I awake before Merak so I can watch him as he sleeps. He looks different in sleep. Peaceful. Even a bit younger.
And as I watch him sleeping now, with the bird tucked safely against him and firelight dancing across his face, I suddenly cannot imagine a future where I do not fall hopelessly in love with him.
My savage lord.
Gods help me. I think I already am.
CHAPTER 16
MERAK
