He’s been by my side since the ball, and he’s put up with days of riding nonstop forme. And that fills me with a plethora of feelings that I’m not ready to unpack, but I know I won’t be able to ignore them forever.
“He confuses me,” I tell Chaos. “I don’t understand him.”
I’m not sure I ever will. Not when there’s much more to the Hunter than I first thought.
A branch snaps behind me, and I stiffen. My fingers curl around the round brush, and I place my other hand on Chaos’s flank, my spine straightening. A flame burns low in my stomach, and I know without turning around that the Hunter has returned.
This awareness is new.
I’m not sure whether it was born of us sharing the same horse, or from something deeper, but its existence is undeniable. I know he’s back, because my stupid heart is pounding wildly in my chest. Warm breath dances across the back of my neck, and I inhale sharply.
My hood is down, and my hair is tied in a bun with a piece of leather I found in the saddlebags. Putting my hair up seemed like a good idea earlier, but now I’m regretting that decision.
“Ready, Wren?” the Hunter asks, his voice low and deep and sending tingles sweeping down my spine.
The flame in my core burns brighter, as if someone threw a log onto a fire, and my fingers tremble. Suns, it isn’t fair that I am so affected by Gabriel. Life would be so much easier if I felt nothing but platonic, boring things for him. Instead, here I am,enjoying the sound of his voice and the way his presence has my entire body paying attention.
My gaze drops to where Amelia’s bracelet dangles on my wrist, and I swallow. My best friend would know what to do, and I’m sure she would’ve had great advice for how to deal with this type of situation.
But she’s gone, and she’ll never be able to give me advice again.
“Yes, I’m ready,” I lie.
I’ll never be ready, but the sooner we go, the sooner we reach our mysterious destination. Gabriel said he knows where we’re going, but he hasn’t told me any more than that.
Chaos nickers, noticing that I’ve pulled the brush back. I pat his flank affectionately. “Sorry, buddy. That’s all the brushing for today.”
I turn around, intent on asking Gabriel where he’s been, but my words dry up as if I’ve eaten a mouthful of sand. The Hunter is standingrightbehind me. He is cast in shadows, but nothing can hide the shine of his emerald eyes.
My heart jumps. If I took a single step forward, my nose would brush his chest. As it is, on my next inhale, the Hunter’s warm, purely masculine scent fills my lungs.
“He seems to like you,” Gabriel says, flicking his gaze to Chaos, then back to me.
I swallow. Gabriel’s proximity is making it hard to think, let alone form words. “I... I like him, too.”
Animals and I have always gotten along, and I suspect we always will.
Gabriel lifts a brow and lowers his voice. “He doesn’t like many people.”
“Oh? He seems perfectly pleasant to me.”
For all my lack of time around horses, I haven’t had any problems with Chaos. It’s not his fault I’m sore or that I’ve never ridden before.
The Hunter comescloser. How is there room for him to do that?
My breath catches as he rests one hand on the horse’s side, lifting the other. He moves slowly, as if giving me time to pull away, but I... don’t. I just stand there, watching as the Hunter picks up a lock of hair that has fallen out of my bun. He runs my curl through his fingers as if it’s a piece of fine silk and he’s a merchant judging how well it’s made.
Can he hear the thundering of my heart? Sense the way my lungs are struggling to draw breath?
Gabriel studies my hair for several long beats, entranced, before he tucks it behind my ear. His touch is soft. Verging on reverent.
And I . . .
Am a statue. Why the fuck aren’t I moving? Why aren’t I pulling away?
Suns, it’s like my sanity along with my ability to think properly vanish the moment Gabriel gets too close.
His fingers are still touching me, tracing the shell of my ear, and my mouth parts. This would be the moment to tell him to stop and step away, but I don’t do that, either.
