PATIENCE, LITTLE BIRD
GABRIEL
If someone had asked me before I met Wren if I got nervous easily, I would have laughed. I had never experienced nerves, not really.
But now?
Now my fingers are laced through Wren’s, and the light pink butterflies flitting around us—a sure sign spring is well underway—aren’t the only ones present. My stomach is filled with them, and the nerves are getting worse as I lead Wren deep into the woods.
My gods-blessed has been peppering me with questions about our destination since we left the camp, but other than my reassurance that we are, in fact, staying within the net’s boundaries—a requirement for everyone save a few guards who are authorized to leave the protective barrier for short periods of time—I’ve kept it a secret.
I wouldn’t say Ideriveenjoyment from torturing Wren in this way, but she does make the most adorable sounds of frustration when she’s annoyed. I keep having to bite back a smile every time she huffs, and I’m fairly certain she’s noticed.
“Where are we going, Gabriel?” Wren asks again as we come up to a stream.
The water is high, reaching the tops of the banks thanks to the rain that has steadily been falling all week. My arm had been bothering me, the rain prodding at my old injury and reminding me that blessed salve, though helpful, isn’t an instant cure for anything.
Daily thunderstorms started the night after Wren added her magic to Grandmother’s amulet, and today is the first dry day since then.
“Patience, little bird.” I kiss our joined fingers before untangling them. “We’re almost there. I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.”
Her gaze sweeps over me for a long moment before she dips her head. “I do trust you, Gabe, but let me warn you”—she pins me with a glare that has me wanting to kiss her—“if this involves running in any way, shape, or form, I’ll be very upset.”
I chuckle, unable to help myself. “No running, I promise.”
“Good. I’d hate to be angry with you.”
“I certainly wouldn’t enjoy it, either.” Turning my attention back to the water, I scan the surface. There’s no bridge, but we need to get to the other side, so we walk across a series of stepping stones.
The crossing is perilous, and Wren almost falls in, but I catch her, and we make it to the opposing shore.
“Come on, Wren.” I squeeze her fingers once we’ve found our footing. “We need to go, or we’ll be late.”
She pauses. “Late for what?” I can feel her curious gaze on me. “What’s going on, Gabe?”
I pause long enough to kiss her and murmur “Patience” against her lips before we continue. I didn’t keep this surprise for days only to spoil it now.
Mist meets up with us a short while later, rubbing against Wren’s leg in greeting. She pulls her hand out of mine andcrouches, lavishing my familiar with love. I watch on, bemused that Mist has a new favorite.
I don’t blame her—Wren has stolen my heart, too.
After a few minutes, we continue through the forest until we physically can’t anymore. A glistening blue-green wall stands in our path, blocking us from going further.
The net, I’ve learned, is actually a half dome. On the other side of the barrier, the forest is thick. Emerald leaves dangle from lush, moss-covered trees. Evergreens mingle with oaks and bushes covered in unripe berries. Flowers sprout from the ground. A rabbit runs past, and squirrels hop across branches.
They are so close, and yet so far.
Wren peers at the net, then back to me. “Why are we here, Gabe?”
Those butterflies have returned, and they are fluttering in my stomach. I swallow, my mouth dry, and lead Wren over to a stump. She sits, and I perch on the edge beside her.
“Little bird.” I graze my thumb across the back of her hand. “Wren. We’ve been through a lot together.”
We’ve tackled issues that some couples who have been together for years never have to deal with.
She nods slowly, and it’s almost as if I can see the cogs turning in her mind. “Yes, we have.”
“And we got off to a rocky start.”
