Gabriel raises a brow. “As much as I enjoy getting to spend time with you, what are we doing here, Wren?”
I had a whole speech planned, but suddenly, the words don’t seem right. “Well, as you know, the winter is ending.”
He taps his fingers on his thigh. “Yes, I noticed.”
“And we’ve done a lot of reading.” So much that I’m not sure I can look at another book for a very long time.
“That’s true.” Gabriel steps towards me, trailing his thumb down my cheek. Gods, it’s hard to think when he does things like that. “But why are wehere?”
“I thought this would be a good place to?—”
A shadow darkens the window, and the low sound of voices comes from outside.
Gabriel stiffens, and his shoulders tense. He drops his hand and turns quickly, blocking my view of the door with his body.
“Stay behind me, little bird,” he says sternly.
It’s not like I have much of a choice. Between the Hunter at my front and the shelves at my back, I’m trapped.
“Okay, but?—”
“We’ll talk about it after,” he says, his tone leaving no room for discussion.
Gone is the lighthearted man from earlier, and in his place is the Hunter. His fists are curled at his sides, his stance is wide, and tension is radiating off him. Being on this side of things feels different. Something inside me is thrilled at the knowledge that Gabriel is willing to fight for me, even if it’s not always necessary.
Another shadow passes by the window, and then the doorknob turns. A growl rumbles through Gabriel, reminding me of the noises Mist makes. The sound is a threat and a warning, bundled together.
Worried about what the Hunter might do before I can explain, I place my hand on his arm. “Gabe, I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me, but it’s unnecessary.”
“It is necessary,” he says without looking away from the door.
“No, it’s not.” I duck out from under his arm as the door opens and two men walk inside.
One, pale and gangly, has turquoise hair in a half bun, while the other has warm brown skin and a stockier build. Both wear tunics and pants, the regular garb of the community here.
The Hunter’s hand falls to the hilt of his sword, the threat clear, and I hurriedly add, “You see, I asked them to meet us here.”
Well, technically, Skyler asked them, but she was passing on the request for me.
Gabriel’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
I point to the man on our left, the pale orange glow coming from beneath the collar of his black tunic contrasting with his turquoise hair.
“This is Soren, and he’s here with his...” My voice trails off. Actually, I’m not sure what their connection is.
“My adopted brother, Jasper,” Soren fills in.
That makes sense, considering that the men don’t look anything alike. Jasper scratches his neck. “My family raised Soren after... Well, he needed somewhere to go, and we were able to take him in.”
The brothers exchange a look, and I’m sure there’s more to the story, but I don’t want to pry.
The air is tense, and Gabriel is still looking at the brothers like he might hurt them. Which definitely wouldn’t bode well for the reason I asked them here.
I step towards them, hoping to relieve the tension.
“It’s nice to officially meet you”—I extend my hand, shaking Jasper’s, then Soren’s—“in a quiet environment, without our lives being threatened.”
The brothers had been present on the day of the battle, but everything had been too chaotic for proper introductions, and then after...
