Page 38 of The Blacksmith’s Wish

He could endure many things but not that.

So, for this one afternoon, or perhaps even until tomorrow, he would allow himself the selfish comfort of believing she had wanted him as much as he had wanted her.

His heart felt impossibly full. For the first time in years, happiness settled inside him without reservation. The memory of Effie’s laughter, the tenderness in her touch, and the fierce certainty in her voice when she’d declared she wanted him. Heat stirred low in his belly, arousal becoming evident, and he let out a rueful chuckle.

“’Tis a good thing I’ve only ye to witness this,” he muttered to his horse.

The gelding flicked an ear as if in agreement. Then, without warning, the animal slowed. Its ears pricked forward. The horse snorted softly and lifted its head, staring into the dense forest to their left.

“What is it, lad?”

The gelding shifted beneath him but made no move to continue. Instead, it stood unnaturally still, nostrils flaring as though catching a scent carried upon the breeze.

A strange sensation crept over Gowan. Not fear but a sort of recognition. Somewhere among the ancient oaks, beyond the veil of gathering twilight, a pale silver glow shimmered between the trunks.

His breath caught. Is the stone back?

A light pulsed once. Then again. An odd warmth spread through his chest, as if invisible fingers had wrapped around his chest and given the gentlest tug.

He had heard the stories all his life. Men claimed the stone called only to those meant to find it. He had dismissed the tales as little more than village lore meant to entertain children around winter fires. But this was not the first time he’d seen it. And this time he found it impossible to look away. The glow reached for him, whispering across the quiet forest in a language beyond words.

Come closer.

The command echoed not in his ears, but somewhere deep within his soul.

Rook gave another low snort before lowering its head, as though accepting a path already chosen. Gowan slid from the saddle almost without realizing he’d made the decision. He looped the reins loosely over a nearby branch, though instinct told him the faithful beast would not wander.

Unable to resist whatever unseen force beckoned him, he stepped between the towering trees.

With every stride, the silver light grew brighter and the forest around him fell strangely silent. Even the breeze seemed to hold its breath.

Only the steady beat of his heart accompanied him as he walked toward the miracle that had waited, perhaps, for this very moment.

The silver glow spilled into a small clearing, bathing the ancient standing stone in an otherworldly light. Though no larger than a man’s chest, it commanded the forest as though it had stood there since the dawn of time. Veins of pale blue shimmered beneath its smooth surface, pulsing gently like the beat of a living heart.

Gowan stopped several paces away. His pulse thundered in his ears as he stared at the stone. All the tales whispered around winter fires came rushing back. Wishes granted. Lives forever changed. Fortunes found. Hearts healed.

His throat tightened.

“What am I to do?” he murmured into the stillness.

The stone answered only with another slow pulse of light, and a strange peace settled over him. Slowly, with caution, he stepped closer until he could rest a rough hand against the cool, smooth surface.

Closing his eyes, he bowed his head.

“I wish…” his voice faltered. The words lodged painfully in his chest.

“I wish…” he tried again, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I wish my scars would disappear.”

Nothing but silence was the reply.

He almost laughed at himself. How foolish was he to think it would work. He was an utter idiot. A full-grown man standing alone in the middle of a forest, speaking to a rock.

Then the stone flared. He held out his right hand as a brilliant white light exploded beneath his palm. Heat surged through his arm, racing across his shoulders and down his spine until every inch of him burned. It wasn’t the savage heat of the forge or the searing agony of the fire that had scarred him years before.

This warmth soothed. It seeped into muscles long knotted with pain, into flesh that had remained stiff for years, into places he’d forgotten could feel anything but discomfort.

Then there was a flash of light akin to lightning and the stone went dark.