I want to show him the same kind of pleasure he gave me, but he catches my hand. “Not tonight, little bird.”
“Why not?”
He draws the blanket up around me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Because there will be plenty of time for that in the future.”
Gabriel rolls off the bed, strolling into the bathing room and returning with a damp washcloth a moment later. He cleans me, and by the time he’s done, my eyes are heavy. My limbs feel pleasantly weighted as I lift them, and Gabriel helps me into my nightgown before he tucks the blanket under my chin.
There’s a scratching sound at the door, and a soft meow.
“Sleep, Wren,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over my forehead. “I’ll be right back; I’m just going to let Mist in.”
I drift in that space between waking and sleeping until the door opens once more. Mist pads into the cabin on silent paws, followed by Gabriel. He closes our door and locks it, pausing to scratch Mist behind her ears, murmuring something too low for me to hear. The panther’s purr fills the air, and then she settles at the foot of our bed.
The last thing I remember is Gabriel sliding in behind me, curling his arm around my stomach and drawing me against his warmth. That night, I’m not plagued by a single nightmare.
37
SECRETS AND SURPRISES
WREN
“Where are you taking me?” Gabriel asks curiously, fingers laced through mine as I lead him through the camp.
It’s the middle of the day, and other than a few people hurriedly going about their business, we’re all alone. That’s probably because most of the rebels are busy and the children are all in school, but I’m sure the intimidating black panther walking on the Hunter’s other side is a contributing factor.
The ground is soft from the melting snow, and our feet sink into it as we walk. White patches remain under trees and in shadowy spots, but the season is shifting, and winter is giving way to spring.
A week has passed since Gabriel asked for my forgiveness. The days are growing longer, and the snow is disappearing. The air shimmers above our heads, a constant reminder of the net shielding us from the king. Beyond it, the sky is clear, and the suns are bright, promising a warm day ahead.
I glance over my shoulder and smile wryly. “It’s a secret.”
Gabriel lifts a brow. “Does it have something to do with whatever you and Skyler were whispering about this morning after my workout?”
My cheeks heat as I remember the way Gabriel’s muscles rippled while he subjected himself to his daily exercise regime—otherwise known as self-inflicted torture.
This morning after he and I shared a simple breakfast of hardboiled eggs and bread, I had perched in a chair and watched through the cabin window as Gabriel pushed his body to its physical limits. He’d gone through a series of push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, and other stretches I didn’t know the names for but seemed designed to inflict pain. His shirt had been soaked with sweat in no time, clinging to his muscles, and yet, he had pressed onwards.
I’d been happy to watch from inside, petting Mist. After all, seeing as how I already bear a Mark fating me to die, my life is fucked-up enough as it is. As far as I’m concerned, there is no reason to ever subject myself to the abomination some people call exercise. I’ve already resumed my self-defense training with Gabriel—suns forbid I undertake even more physical activities.
This morning, as has been our routine all week, Skyler stopped by while Gabriel was torturing himself. She brought some tea, which we shared while chatting.
Our topics of conversation varied day to day, from our love lives (she’d squealed when I told her about Gabriel getting on his knees for me, and in return, she’d shared about Annika, a fellow guard she was seeing) to our families and the way we’d grown up. It’s been nice getting to know Skyler, and our chats have quickly become one of my favorite parts of the day.
“Wren?” Gabriel prods my side, and I remember his question.
I run my fingers down the fabric of my sky-blue dress, a garment that had been gifted to me by one of the rebel women after the battle.
“No, that was about something... different,” I say, choosing my words carefully.
Before Skyler left this morning, I asked her to put in a request to the healers for me. I hadn’t seen them lately, with how busy Gabriel and I had been. I’d been blushing furiously then, and based on the heat in my cheeks, I’m certain the same thing is happening now.
Not for the first time, I wish I weren’t so gods-damned awkward.
“Are you keeping a secret from me, Wren?” Gabriel asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Possibly.” I definitely am.
He chuckles, and the air between us is light. Easy, even. Things have been this way all week. I’ve slept in Gabriel’s arms every night—he seems back to his normal self—and I haven’t had a single nightmare. It should surprise me I know what the Hunter’s “normal” is, but it doesn’t.
