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CHAPTER 29
In the morning, thebodies of the fenrirs had been dragged away and Vesper was crouched beside the campfire, once again making flapjacks.
He had a stack already waiting, hot and buttered, piled high on a tin plate.
Lancelet was just helping herself to some of the golden cakes as I sat down beside her.
“Shhh,” Vesper said, catching my eye. He grinned so broadly I thought his handsome face would crack. “Don’t wake him.”
He nodded in the direction where Draven had set up his bedroll. I followed his gaze and my eyes widened.
The exmoor was sleeping back to back with the dark haired assassin. I could see the sleek gold-brown fur of the cat-like creature’s massive back, thick black stripes standing out against its massive body as it breathed in and out, slow and steady in its sleep.
As we watched, the exmoor made a mewing sound in its sleep and stretched out its front paws.
“Looks like Draven has a new friend,” Lancelet said, snickering from between mouthfuls of pancakes. “Does he usually sleep this late?”
“No,” I admitted. “We should wake him or he’ll be very annoyed that we let ourselves lose part of the day when we could be riding.”
“Aw, let the little kitten sleep some more,” Vesper cooed, his eyes dancing with playfulness.
I smiled back at him, but marched over to where Draven lay, stopping a good fifteen feet away for safety, then cleared my throat. “Draven? It’s morning. Wake up.”
At first I wasn’t sure he’d heard me. Then he gave a sleepy groan and stretched out his arms, much like the exmoor beside him just had.
Abruptly I was reminded of what a beautiful man he was. His body was honed for pure destruction, all long limbs and sinewed muscles.
I took a step back, glancing at Vesper. He was flipping another flapjack and pushing one stray amber curl from off his forehead as he laughed at something Lancelet had just said. His strong, slender hands drew my attention, reminding me of his talent with the lute and the blade. Among other more delicate skills. My heart skipped a beat as I looked at his finely chiseled features in profile.
Yes, Draven was handsome. Very much so. But he was dangerous. He was trouble and always would be. No matter how gentle and kind he could sometimes seem, no matter how much he surprised me, he would never be anything more than what he was. An assassin. A killer. A man who lied and took what he wanted.
I needed less danger in my life, not more. I needed... I needed someone like Vesper, to remind me what was good in life. To push the horrible memories away.
“I’m up,” Draven growled. I jumped a foot in the air. One of his eyes had opened. The other was still closed. He smirked. He was laughing at me, the bastard.
“Did you have a good sleep?” I asked sweetly. “With your new bedfellow?”
He frowned in confusion, then shifted a little, looking over his shoulder.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said softly. “How the hell did that happen? I’d swear she wandered off last night.”
