He shakes his head. “You don’t need to give me an answer right now. All I’m asking is that you think about it.”
And what am I supposed to say to that?No?After everything he’s done for me?
I exhale shakily. “Okay. I’m not promising anything, but I’ll give it some thought.”
“Thank you, Birdie.” He draws in a deep breath, and when he exhales, any hint of vulnerability has been washed from his face. He is all business as he instructs, “Take out your dagger. Your first lesson starts now.”
Gabriel moves behind me, and I draw my blade. His fingers dance across my arms and legs, each touch far too fleeting as he helps me adjust my stance.
Once he seems happy with my posture, he steps back and explains the different parts of the dagger. I do my best to focus on his words and not on the intense way he’s looking at me. After, he shows me how to draw the blade from its sheath without making a sound, and I practice while he feeds Chaos until the movement feels like second nature.
My lips twitch into a smile.
The old Wren who snuck into the temple to watch her friend’s Giving Ceremony would never be here. Neither would Amelia, honestly. This is a choice I’ve made for me, to protect myself. No one else is asking it of me. Not my sisters, not another gods-blessed, not even Gabriel.
Even getting back on Chaos to continue our journey doesn’t dampen my mood, and as Gabriel gets in the saddle behind me, I brush my fingers over the hilt of my dagger.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I’m finally doing something for myself. Right now, I’m not a gods-blessed. I’m not on the run. I’m not even the middle child in a family of five.
I’m just me, and it’s amazing.
14
CAUGHT YOU
GABRIEL
“Come at me again,” Wren demands, passing her blade from one hand to the other. She’s holding the dagger as if she’s been fighting for years, not days, and a proud smile tugs on my lips. “I want to try to block you.”
We stopped in this clearing a few minutes ago, and Wren dismounted on her own. She’s been getting better on the horse, more natural with each passing day. The moons are shining, the skies are clear, and the stars are twinkling as they look down on us. Wren’s braid trails over her left shoulder, and her hood is down.
A week and a half has passed since we left The Ivory Spoon, and we have settled into a new routine. During the day, we hide from prying eyes and try to sleep. At night, we ride hard, our destination growing ever nearer. At least, I think it is.
My plan is simple: find the rebels and ask them to help Wren. She needs to be out of harm’s way, somewhere the king can’t find her, a place where she can learn about her magic. The rebels are her best bet. The problem is that since the king has always crushed rebellions the moment they pop up, I’m working with scraps of information on how to find them.
So far, the only sign of their presence has been a sigil etched in trees—a wilting rose. Small and inconspicuous enough that wandering eyes wouldn’t notice it, they haven’t been easy to find. The sigils are appearing closer together, a sure sign we’re approaching our destination.
I know this is the rebels’ symbol because two years ago I hunted an escaped rebel who had the wilted rose tattooed on his neck. Cedric Stone is etched into my memory, not only because of his tattoo, but because of the curses he spewed as I returned him to the prison he had fled from. He swore that there was more going on, that he was something called an Inherited, but even as he vowed to escape again, I’d given his words little thought.
But now that I know the truth about what happens to the Given, I wonder if there’s something more to what he was saying.
A problem for another time.
“Come on, Gabe,” Wren taunts, pulling my attention back to her. Her knees are bent, her shoulders are back, and even though she hasn’t been training for long, she’s beginning to carry herself like a fighter. “Afraid I’ll hurt you?”
I laugh, palming my own dagger. “Not with that.”
Physically, I don’t think she could hurt me even if she managed to make me bleed. At least, nothing permanent.
But my heart, on the other hand . . .
I’m in danger of losing it to Wren. The longer she and I are together and the more I learn about her, the more pieces of my vital organ she takes. I’m not sure she’s aware she’s doing it, but at this rate, it won’t be long before I’ll have given her every part of it.
I should probably be upset about that, but I’m not.
Wren is beautiful, but her looks aren’t why I’m falling for her. She is loyal, smart, a quick study, and enjoyable to be around.She has a heart for animals and people—that much was made clear when she took care of Mist and me after Hedran’s attack, applying blessed salve to help us heal.
I’m fairly certain Mist likes Wren more than me now. When I woke up earlier, the two of them were cuddling. My familiar has never been domestic, but it’s clear she’s willing to put that aside for a small piece of Wren’s attention.
