Arguably, the second time was a situation of her own making, since she admitted to poisoning me, but this isn’t the moment for semantics.
A spark enters her eye, and the smallest of smiles dances on her lips. “I did, didn’t I?”
I nod, and the movement sends a sharp jolt of pain down my arm. I’d successfully ignored the injuries Hedran bestowed upon me until now, but it appears that will no longer be possible.
Wren seems to come to the same conclusion. She digs through the bag once more, pulling out a small jar that fits neatly in the palm of her hand, then looks up at me, her cheeks beautifully reddened.
“Better make that three times.” She opens the lid of the blessed salve. “Take your shirt off, Hunter.”
I’ve never obeyed a command faster.
The air between Wren and me has shifted. I noticed it back in the woods and again when we left Hedran’s body behind. The ground was hard, and burying Hunter Erlet would’ve taken several hours, so we didn’t. Chaos and Mist were anxious to go, especially after Wren applied healing salve to Mist’s wounds, and I agreed with their sentiments.
I couldn’t leave him exposed, though. More for our sake than his, I covered the fallen Hunter’s body in leaves to hide the evidence of his death. Maybe if we’re lucky, it will keep my father and his soldiers off our trail. One can only hope.
Before Wren and I departed, I relieved Hedran of his weapons and the spare tunic in his pack since he didn’t need them anymore. The tunic fits well enough, and it’s far better than the torn and bloody garment I’d been wearing. His sword is sheathed on my back, and his dagger rests against my thigh.
My attention isn’t on my new weapons, though. How can it be when Wren is sitting in front of me?
Tonight, space between us is nonexistent. From the moment we mounted, she nestled against my chest, making herself comfortable. Her back is relaxed, and her head rests below my shoulder.
I’m not sure whether it was our brush with death or what came after that brought about the change, but Wren seems to have softened towards me. Gods fucking help me but knowing that makes me far happier than it should. I’ve been smiling for hours, a wholly inappropriate reaction after having killed someone earlier. I can’t help myself.
Who is this man that I’m becoming? A few months ago, I didn’t need anyone. I was perfectly happy being on my own withMist as my only companion. We were a pair. A Hunter and his familiar against the rest of the world.
But now my chest is warm, and there’s a strange sensation that’s almost like peace inside me, all because Wren is leaning against me. Trusting me, at least enough to relax and let her barriers down.
“Gabriel?” The little bird’s voice is soft, and I can barely hear her over the steady rhythm of Chaos’s hooves against the ground.
It started snowing a few hours ago, and while the thin white layer muffles the sound, it doesn’t absorb it.
“Gabe,” I murmur before I can think twice about it.
She peers at me over her shoulder. “What?”
“Most people call me Gabe. My friends, and... You can call me that. If you want.”
She makes me feel like a bumbling teenager, barely able to talk to his first crush. I’m not sure what we are, but I know I don’t want to be Wren’sfriend. The way she looks at me, the way her mouth felt beneath mine...
Gods, no. Idefinitelydon’t want to be friends.
Her breath catches as the meaning of my words settle in.
“Okay, then. Gabe.” She smiles, and Esyn fucking help me, I want to bottle that up and hold it close for the rest of my days. “My friends and family call me Birdie. I realize you know that, but things are...”
Her voice trails off, and her cheeks color beautifully.
“Changing,” I offer, filling the silence, pleased to hear her acknowledge the shift between us.
“Yes, exactly.”
“So canIcall you Birdie?” I ask, remembering the way she bit my head off for using the nickname after we left her sisters behind.
There’s a moment’s pause, and then she shifts, burrowing her head against my chest. “If you’d like.”
My heart soars as though she plucked one of the moons out of the sky and handed it to me. “I would like that very much,” I murmur, tightening my arm around her and brushing a kiss across the top of her head because I can’t help myself. “Thank you, Birdie.”
“You’re welcome, Gabe.”
