After the fire’s lit, I move through the cottage, exploring the small rooms and lighting candles as I go. I find the kitchen stocked with food and a couple bottles of wine and immediately know it’s Alina’s doing. I’ll have to give her an extra big hug for this the next time I see her.
Once I’m finished on the ground floor, I head up the creaking stairs to the second floor. And I find Severin standing in the bedroom, his gaze moving slowly over the space, taking it in one measured inch at a time.
He looks larger here, somehow. The cottage is small, cozy, and Severin looks at odds with it, like a lion pretending to be a house cat.
“You’re tense,” I say, crossing my arms as I lean against the doorframe.
His gaze slides to me, and his fingers curl at his sides.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. “Do you not like the surprise?”
Immediately, he says, “It’s not that. I...” He swallows, his throat bobbing. Once again, his gaze brushes the room, and when it lands on the bed, he goes very still. Without looking at me, he says, “The surprise is wonderful. But I’m...”
I’ve never known Severin to struggle with his words, and seeing him like this makes me warm inside. I cross the room to him, my socks whispering across the creaky wooden floor.
“What are you afraid of?” I ask, easing up beside him and taking his cold hands in mine. “You can tell me. Is this too much?”
He meets my eyes and gives a small shake of his head. “It’s perfect. That’s what I’m afraid of.” Slowly, he lifts one hand and uses it to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I feel like you’re showing me a fantasy world, Maeve. And I fear I’m never going to want to leave it.”
I turn my face into his palm, my eyelids fluttering closed as he cups my cheek.
“We have this place all to ourselves for the next few days. Let’s enjoy the fantasy for a while, then talk about what comesafter.” I open my eyes and look up into his dark gaze. “Can we do that?”
He strokes my cheek with his thumb, the caress making me melt further into his touch. Then he gives me a small nod. “I can do that.”
I smile. “Good.” Turning my face, I kiss his palm, then pull away. “Are you hungry?” His eyes widen, just slightly, and I laugh at the implication. “I mean for food.”
He shifts, as if trying to roll the tension from his shoulders, then nods once. “I could eat.”
“I’ll make us something. Alina stocked the place for us.” I move away from Severin, back toward the door. But halfway through the doorway, I glance back at him and say, “We can talk about yourotherhunger later.” Then I smile and head down the stairs, delighting in the trembling pulse that goes through our bond.
Chapter 62
Maeve
FINALLY, THE COTTAGE HAS HEATED up, and even the floorboards are warm as I move through the tiny sitting room, a big platter of crunchy bread held in my hands.
Severin looks up from where he’s sitting on the rug before the fire, a glass of red wine held in one hand. When I set the platter down next to the bowls of butternut squash soup I already served, his eyes widen.
“That looks amazing,” he says, leaning forward just a bit to breathe in the steam rising off the loaf. His dark eyes flick to me as I settle onto the rug across from him, tucking my legs beneath me. “I didn’t know you could bake.”
I rip a chunk off the bread, not bothering with the bread knife, and dip it into my soup. “My parents are terrible at cooking,” I say. “So my stepbrother and I had to learn.” I take a bite and sigh. The bread is perfect, and the soup is rich and creamy. After swallowing, I take a sip of the wine Severin poured for me and ask, “Are you any good at cooking?”
He lifts one shoulder in a subtle shrug. “Not particularly.”
My lips curl up on one side. “Three hundred years and you still can’t cook?”
This garners a small smile from him. “I didn’t say Ican’tcook—only that I’m not skilled at it. I spent my time on other pursuits.”
Arching a brow, I ask, “Such as?”
He takes a piece of bread for himself, and I watch his teeth sink into it, his fangs catching the firelight. He chews thoughtfully for a moment before saying, “Books, mostly. Traveling. Learning.”
My smile slips away, and I take a few spoonfuls of soup. “Where have you traveled?”
In all the time we’ve spent together, Severin still feels like a mystery to me, like he’s a book I’ve only just begun reading. And I want to cherish every word on every single page.
His gaze goes to the fire, and he takes a sip of wine. “Many places. I’ve traveled through the snowcapped peaks of Norwyth, and I’ve walked the sands of Dunmara. I’ve sailed with pirates on the Charmed Sea.”
