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“There won’t be anyone else,” Davian reiterated with conviction. “You know my word is my oath. I’ll come for it when you pass.”
“Already thinking of that?” she solemnly asked.
He nodded, knowing his eyes darkened at the thought. “Not in a morbid way, but it is a glaring reality, as you’d stated earlier.”
“Yes, it is. And I’m glad you’ve accepted that fact.”
His jaw clenched. “I haven’t. Not fully.” He kissed her, then crossed the threshold.
“Davian,” she called out before he’d left her patio.
He gazed back at her, his expression likely grim.
“It’s a certainty,” she told him. “Something you absolutely have to accept. Sooner rather than later.”
He said nothing, just continued on his way. He mounted his Arabian in a fluid movement. Then they galloped off, leaving her standing in the doorway.
He hoped she’d simply return to her bed, settle between the sheets with her novel and her introduction to Mr. Darcy. And move on with her life.
* * *
Two weeks passed as October drifted into November. The snow continued to fall and the village remained blanketed by the pristine white Jade looked forward to every year. Although the temperatures were in the low-forties—dipping into the twenties overnight—and the cloud cover rarely dissipated, the crisp air felt invigorating.
She kept to Davian’s order, allowing one of the slayers to escort her to and from the town proper, despite there no longer being a threat against her. The evil she’d sensed with the fire wraith had vanished. No one tracked her and she felt a degree of safety with Toran and Walker always nearby. Plus, she knew Morgan was out there somewhere, on the other side of the border, close at hand to come to her aid if needed.
Her tension eased substantially, though she still felt that gnawing hollowness late at night when she was alone in her cottage. The house seemed emptier than normal since Davian’s departure. It was a familiar feeling, one she’d immediately experienced following her parents’ deaths. One she knew would eventually ebb. To an extent, at any rate.
She played cards with Lisette at the tavern when she wasn’t serving drinks. Lisette had become a regular and Jade suspected that had something to do with the older woman wanting to keep tabs on her, just like everyone else. Even Michael seemed to watch her warily.
Apparently, she gave off a vibe that intrigued or alarmed her friends, she wasn’t sure which. Maybe it was because she wasn’t as uptight as she’d been previously, when she’d realized she was being stalked. Or perhaps it was the occasional smile that crossed her lips for no cause at all—at least none that they knew of. Thoughts of Davian would flit through her mind and she couldn’t help the thrill that chased along her spine. At night, when she was in her own living room, she wore his necklace.
Granted, there was something a bit masochistic about the guilty pleasure she indulged in when half of her heart was elated to know he had such strong feelings for her and the other was shredded by the fact they couldn’t be together. Yet she’d spent so much of her life veiled by a dark shadow that this one significant and sexy secret she kept to herself offered escapism from her otherwise gloomy thoughts.
Davian wanted her. She didn’t doubt that for a second. He couldn’t have her, of course. But still… Just knowing she’d affected him so intensely had its own evocative impact on her.
Near the middle of the month, as Thanksgiving approached, Jade heard horses tramping through the deep snow outside her cottage. Along with what sounded to be a wagon attempting to slog through the thick drifts. She peered out one of the large front windows, looking around the lightweight curtains hanging over the panes. Her curiosity grew as she opened her front door and greeted Morgan.
“In the village for supplies?” she asked, surprised, as she eyed the burlap covering a heap in the wagon. She knew the kingdom had its own suppliers and vendors, so she was at a loss as to what he was up to—until he spoke.
“No. Making a delivery.” He slipped from the bench and signaled the demon who accompanied him. “Why don’t you go back inside with the fire, Jade? We’ll just be a few minutes.”
“Hmm. Planning to be secretive, I see.”
“Do I have permission to enter your home?” he asked. “Just me.”
“Neither you nor the king are required to ask permission, but thank you for doing so. Yes, of course.” She returned to the sofa where she’d been reading Alice in Wonderland, though her focus wasn’t on the text. A flurry of activity ensued around her, in such a lightning-quick way, she couldn’t have kept up with it if she’d tried.
True to his word, Morgan was finished not even ten minutes later and appeared by her side. “Why don’t you come have a look?”
She joined him outside, where his assistant had stacked at least three cords of wood adjacent to the cottage. He’d also erected a canopy to provide shelter so the provisions stayed dried.
“Wow,” she said. “That will last me quite some time. Thank you both.”
Gazing at the large pile caused a long-buried memory to inch toward the front of her mind. She’d received this generous gift before. Years and years ago…
“One more thing,” Morgan said, distracting her. He gestured for her to precede him back into the house and to her bedroom.
She drew up short, her eyes widening. “Oh!”
