Page 58 of The Silversmith

Once more, I threw my head back and laughed, if only to keep my giddiness—at his voice, at those words—from giving me away.

When we were back inside the stables, I accepted his help dismounting my mare, wholly aware of my stomach’s warm leap at his large, strong hands locked around my ribcage.

As he lowered me to the ground, a small burst of his fresh, subtly sweet breath hit my face at the very same moment that my breasts, peaked from the chill, brushed against his chest. The warmth traveled between my legs, and I inhaled, shocked by the sensation. I wondered if he wished to memorize the feel of our bodies pressed together as badly as I did. My pulse thrashed emphatically in my ears and I let my fingers brush against the hard wall of muscle protecting his heart.

“Believe it or not,” he drawled, touching my feet to the ground, “I’m redirecting all of my energy to not be short with you today.”

I bit my lip to block my smile from growing too large and curled my fingertips around the cloth of his linen shirt. A dark blaze of desire sputtered through his stare. It disappeared as quickly as it came.

“I didn’t know you could be so generous,” I teased.

“I’m generous with many things when I want to be, Ella.”

“Thank—thank you.” I took a step back and cleared my throat—self-preservation, to avoid combusting. His gaze followed my movements as I caressed the mare’s long, sleek neck. “I know you said that wasn’t meant to be a gift, but it was one.”

“A precursor then, to your actual gift.” He picked up his bag, withdrew a thick shawl made of animal fur, and handed it to me. “For you.”

I ran my hand over the thick pelt, gray like the grim skies of fall, speckled with a tawny brown as warm as the fur felt beneath my fingertips.

It had been dark when I’d seen the animal, but…

“Is this—?”

“The wolf that attacked you in the barn,” he confirmed. “I was going to burn the damn thing, but then I thought…” Gavin took a step closer. The cold, empty caverns of my heart reached out for his warmth. He tilted my chin up so I could meet his intent, brown-eyed gaze. “How convenient would it be for you to wear this around your neck? My mark, of sorts.” He took another step closer and brushed over my lips with his thumb. “And a constant reminder of what happens to anyone or anything that tries to harm you.” I exhaled shakily, and a muscle worked in his jaw in response to my quickening breaths. “Because, Ella?” he said cooly, brushing a piece of hair from my face, “I’ll gladly skin them all.”

My breath tightened in my chest. “That—that’s crazy,” I whispered, clenching my thighs together. No, no, no. The thought of him ripping apart my threats should not excite me.

But it did.

Gavin’s mouth widened into a grin. His warm fingers touched my jaw, and he chuckled, not denying my words. With a single movement, he brushed my hair off my neck and held my face in his hands.

As he looked into my eyes with breathtaking clarity, his grin faded, the playfulness gone. “I do have one wish for you, on your birthday.” He worked his thick throat through a swallow and held my gaze. The stroke of his thumbs on my cheeks sent delightful shivers up and down my spine. “May your light blind your nightmares,” he said, “and your love burn away the life that confines you.”

I sucked in a shallow breath when he leaned down and pressed his lips to my forehead. Closed my eyes and memorized how every part of my body was on fire and alive. How my heart was elated. Safe.

“Thank you,” I whispered. Before he could pull away, I lifted up on my toes and pressed my mouth to his bearded cheek—quickly, even though I had the urge to linger.

The sudden, gentle heat of his exhale graced my skin, causing me to dig my fingers into the solid wall of his chest and look up.

My heart breathed a sigh of relief when his smile returned, gentle and soft. Another brush of his thumb on my cheek, and he answered, “Always.”

***

We returned to camp an hour later, just as he’d promised. Despite Gemma’s earlier objection, it turned out the others had had their own motives for sending me off. They’d made a run to town during that hour we were gone, and I was welcomed back with a gift from each of them.

From Finn, my own professionally drawn map of Nyrida with the Caves location and Elias’s army outposts marked in a secret code he’d created. In case it ever got lost.

From Ezra, a history book about Nyrida during the Rexus dynasty—before Simeon and Molochai.

From Caz, a set of knives purposed to skin and cut an animal. Specifically a deer, he said. Or “my own” stag.

I purposely avoided Gavin’s reaction to that one.

And from Gemma, a few pieces of artwork Oliver had made for us both during her time in Warrich. She held me for minutes while I cried into her shoulder.

The day felt surreal. This past time with my new friends felt surreal. I was tired from long days of travel and taxing weather. We all were, but we had otherwise avoided danger and enjoyed each other’s company. They meant the world to me already, all of them. It struck me, sad as it was, that I had never even dreamed of having friends like this.

Maybe, if hope would allow, I could find more friends in the Caves. With Marin Sinclair, Caz’s wife. Maybe even with Elias Winterton. I could start as his friend, and then—