“You don’t,” Thessia said, voice quieter now. “You make me feel…seen.”
She paused. Then stepped closer, leaned one arm on the weapon rack beside them, her grin returning—low and warm.
“You look like you’re made of moonlight,” she said. “But I can hear the flame in your voice.”
“The moon is fierce, in its own way,” Auryn replied, meeting her gaze without hesitation.
Thessia reached forward—not quite touching her cheek, but catching a few strands of Auryn’s silver-streaked hair between her fingers. Her full lips curved into a sure grin, smooth voice lowering.
“You’ll ride with me tomorrow, moonbeam. Any objections?”
Auryn tilted her head thoughtfully. “I usually ride Astenos. He doesn’t like it if I try to ride the other horses.”
Thessia blinked. Then laughed.
“Of course you ride thatthing.”
She brought Auryn’s hair to her lips, not kissing it, but close.
“You can ride beside me too. As long as I can see the wind tussle this unbound starlight, I have no complaints.”
Auryn didn’t answer. She yawned instead.
Thessia nudged her shoulder. “Let me take you back to your tent.”
“I can walk myself,” Auryn protested.
“Your choice,” Thessia said, standing, “but I’ll still escort you. You’re barefoot. Hardly dressed.”
With a flick of her shoulders, she shrugged off her thick fur-lined cloak and threw it over Auryn’s form. She didn’t object. It was quite warm and smelled of strength and safety. The weight of it was novel. So unlikehis. Kailorien wrapped her to shield her from the world. Thessia, to help her walk it. Each a kind of shelter.
“I don’t want to go back yet.”
“You’re clearly tired, moonbeam.”
“Being tired is better than facing the silence. It’s heavier than it should be lately. Painful.”
Thessia didn’t pry, but she did nod. “He’s a complicated man.”
“No,” Auryn said, shaking her head. “Just far too gentle.”
At this, Thessia burst into a helpless laugh. “What did you—? The Shadeslayer?Gentle?”
“He hesitates,” Auryn replied, staring into the night. “As if he thinks his hands will break me.”
Thessia fell quiet. Then, after a long moment: “I can’t speak to it. I’ve only seen his fury. Or his back.”
Auryn was quiet for a time, eyes tracking the jagged horizon of the Spine. “You pressed your lips to his cheek. It seemed like a greeting,” Auryn paused. “But it made my chest hurt.”
Thessia didn’t laugh again. She watched Auryn for a moment.
“I’ve done that with a dozen men. Maybe more. A few women too.” Her voice wasn’t flippant, but honest. “War kisses, I call them. To remember you’re still alive.”
Auryn mulled this over. “Kissing,” she said, tasting the word. “Yes. It might have that effect.”
She touched her lips, then glanced at Thessia. “Here too? Is there something special about kissing here?”
“There can be,” she said at length. “Depends who’s doing it. And why.”
