Her eyes flicked away when the intensity became too much, but she found the courage again a second later and came back to me. Minutes of heavy silence passed, the two of us looking at each other with a depth we’d never shown before.

  I didn’t know where to start. Didn’t know if I should yell at her for the risk she’d taken. Didn’t know if I should thank her for her sacrifice. Didn’t know whether I should praise her for having more bravery than most of the men here.

  Instead, I extended my hand, palm up, and held it between us.

  She glanced down and stared at it, saw it hanging between us like an invitation. She swallowed, her delicate features tightening in quiet emotion as her rare eyes lingered. The fire made one side of her hair bright and blond, while the other was cast in dark shadow. Her slender neck had a few freckles. There was another at the corner of her mouth. The shape of her lips reminded me of the bow she’d drawn for me. Every time I looked upon her, I found something new to appreciate.

  She reached her hand forward and gently placed it in mine.

  I immediately wrapped my fingers around her small hand and squeezed, capturing her like prey that stepped into a trap. My grip was tight, just to the point where the pressure might become too much. I conveyed the emotion that words couldn’t replicate in that touch. Shared my gratitude physically.

  Then I guided her hand to my chest and placed it over my heart.

  She flinched at the touch of my skin and sucked in a quiet breath. Then she relaxed her fingers and flattened them against my flesh.

  I held her hand there, my eyes on hers as she felt the beat of my heart. Felt it slow and steady, strong and growing stronger. It’d been dead and dormant for so long, lost in the darkness of sorrow, beating only to survive but never to live.

  But now, it burned with the brilliance of hope. Sunshine that I’d never seen with my eyes now warmed my heart. The void in my chest was now filled with seeds of her flowers—and I felt her petals bloom in my heart.

  12

  HANNE

  Morco needed days of rest, so I let him recover in peace.

  I expected our time apart to be spent in loneliness, but once the tribe knew that I’d ventured to the Knives to save Morco, I was no longer an outsider. People looked me in the eye and greeted me when they passed. When I finished my stew, someone would bring me another that I didn’t ask for.

  And I didn’t sit alone. Caius and Liam were always there, and sometimes others would join too. They didn’t hit me with questions about where I was from, how I ended up here, how I knew so much about the crops or the flower that saved Morco. Caius or Liam seemed to have told them not to ask.

  I didn’t know anything about woodwork in order to finish the bow, so I focused on the string that would fire the arrows. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving the island without Morco to accompany me, so I harvested all the brush I could find and returned with them to the Gathering to understand my resources.

  I dissected leaves, stems, and branches, looking for something with enough stretch to launch an arrow with speed and distance. The leaves that felt waxy to the touch seemed to be the best candidates, and I harvested everything I could and braided the fibers into a single strand.

  “That was brave, what you did.”

  I stilled when I recognized his voice, the voice that said one thing but meant something completely different. My eyes lifted from my project, and I spotted him in front of me, wearing that same smirk.

  “I like that.”

  My eyes dropped back to my work. “I don’t like you.” I tried to focus on what I was doing and ignore him in the hope he would lose interest and walk away. He was probably courageous, but Morco was still recovering in his cabin and wouldn’t catch him in the act.

  “Get to know me, and I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”

  I stayed quiet, not giving him a response to react to.

  “That’s the kind of woman I want having my baby.”

  My eyes flicked up against their will, disgusted by the threat in his voice.

  He smiled like he’d gotten what he wanted.

  “Leave me alone, or I’ll kill you.”

  He chuckled. “Blue, you’re just making it worse.”

  I jumped to my feet and gripped the dagger tightly in my fist.

  His smile slowly faded once the situation took a dire turn.

  “Watch me stab you in the fucking face.”

  He’d always hid behind his obnoxious smirks, but this was the first time he looked at me that way—like he actually wanted to kill me. The look of a predator, the same look those wolves gave me before they lunged with their sharp teeth.

  I stood my ground. Showed no fear.

  “Krull.” Caius emerged from the background, his body a blurred silhouette because my eyes were so sharply focused on my enemy.

  Krull kept his eyes locked on mine, like the hatred was mutual.

  Caius stepped closer. “Krull⁠—”

  “I was just leaving.” He turned and walked past Caius, never once looking at him, but not before he gave me the most ferocious stare I’d ever seen. As if nothing had happened, he walked off.

  I watched his back until he left the Gathering. Only when he was gone did I loosen my grip on the dagger and toss it onto the table.

  Caius’s gaze softened when he looked at me. “I’ll tell Morco.”

  “Don’t.” I returned to my seat. “He’s got enough on his mind right now.”

  Caius stared at me for a while. “I think you’re the only thing on his mind, Hanne.”

  A flush of heat moved through me, hitting me right in the heart. “It’s fine.”

  Caius continued to stare at me before he dropped the subject. He stepped toward the table and looked at the partially made bow. “Need help?”

  “I’m trying to find something for the string.”

  “What about the bow?” He looked at Morco’s handiwork and tested the wood, which had been expertly carved and sanded down with a rock.

  “Need to figure out how to make the wings bend back for the string.”

  His fingers roamed over the weapon, testing the wood and the flexibility. “Heat releases stiffness in muscles and bones. I bet it’ll do the same with wood. I’ll heat it and bend it into place. Once it cools, it might hold its place.”

  “Worth a shot.”

  He took the bow to the bonfire and constructed a way to heat it over the flames, high enough above the fire so it wouldn’t burn or harden, just absorb the heat.

  I focused on the fibers again, continuing my braiding of strands. Some were stretched farther, while others were hardy, but I knew they each needed a combination of the different attributes to remain strong under tension.

  I weaved it into a long string and secured each with a knot near the end to keep the braid in place. When I looked back at Caius, he reached for the bow then pulled on the wings, bending them back with far more flexibility. He tested the other end before he brought it back to me. “It’s working. Now we need something to keep it bent so it can set into place. Got any ideas?”

  I tied the string to each of the tips, securing them into triple knots before I tested the bow, pulling hard on the string and watching the tips move with it. “We need something to pull this back, and we need something else to keep this side in place. Someone can’t hold it in place for days.”

  Caius stared at the bow as he considered my words, and then a moment later, he was hit with an idea. “Let’s try this.” He left to retrieve other tools, and he came back a moment later and hammered a spike into the surface of the table.

  I had no idea what he was doing.

  He grabbed the bow and set it down with the inside of the string against it. Then he hammered another spike into the table before he gently pulled on the bow and hooked it over the second stake. The bow bent into place, the string holding the tension and the wings bending where they should. “Like that?”

  “Yeah, that’s good.”

  “Alright, then let’s leave it for a couple days. It should set by then.” He took the seat across from me and examined the box between us. “If only we’d had something like this before, I wonder what would have been.”

  I lacked the proper words to respond to that, but I could relate to the sentiment. I’d wondered what could have been many times. If I’d just made a different decision, if my mother had survived childbirth, if my father had died later and I was married when he passed. Morco’s face popped into my mind, and I was suddenly grateful that alternate reality hadn’t come to pass…even if it would have prevented all this suffering. “At least we have it now.”

  Several days passed, and I didn’t see Morco.

  He told me he would come to me when he was healed. I took that to mean he wanted to be alone while he recovered. I respected that request and kept myself busy. Now, I was in my cabin after a long day, the fire burning low because I only put one log into the fireplace. If it burned too bright, the room would get too warm, so I always kept it tame.

  My cabin was a small room. Just a single bed, a fireplace, a tub, and a little table with two chairs. There was a rug on the floor made of wolf skin. It was nice to have the privacy, but I did miss the luxuries of home—the lights from the chandeliers, the windows with spectacular views, the fresh-baked bread from the ovens.

  A knock sounded on my door and shattered my longing.

  I’d bathed and combed my hair, but I was in the clothes I wore when I was alone in my cabin, a loose linen shirt and nothing else. My heart hammered in my chest because only one person would come to visit me at my cabin, especially in the evening. I pulled on my trousers then opened the door—coming face-to-face with dark eyes.

  He looked like himself, his skin dry from the lack of sweat, his hair clean and combed back from his face. Healthy color had returned to his skin, and he’d ditched the long sleeves and wore a short-sleeve dark shirt, exposing the scar on his right arm because the bandage had been removed.

  He was the closest person to me, but I regarded him in silence because I didn’t know what to say. I felt heat anytime he came near, but now that heat was an inferno because of the circumstances.

  Just the two of us…in my cabin.

  He didn’t wait for an explicit invitation before he entered and shut the door behind him. His eyes didn’t scan the contents of my cabin to gauge what I’d been doing before he showed up. His intense eyes were on me, and unlike Krull’s stare, his was welcome.

  My chest was so tight I could barely breathe. All my bones were stiff. My muscles ached for no reason. The person I trusted most made me feel the most uneasy. But it was a discomfort I enjoyed, a thrill that made my heart race in a very special way.

  I finally found words. “I’m glad you’re well.” He was strong again, tall and straight, the muscles in his arms distinct with lines and rivers of veins. When I glanced at his arm, I saw that it had healed. He would carry that scar the rest of his life, but at least he would be alive.

  “I’m angry you disobeyed my wishes and put yourself at risk.”

  I inhaled a slow breath and braced for a lecture.

  “But I respect you for doing it.” His eyes flicked back and forth between mine, his chin dropped slightly to meet my gaze because of our height difference. “And I’m grateful.”

  “I would do it again.”

  “And I would do anything for you.”

  I swallowed, feeling that heat flush through me again. I’d never experienced anything like this, a level of intensity that made me tremble. I’d never wanted something so much that it made me afraid of it.

  “I’m yours.” His powerful stare continued to burn into mine, claiming ownership with just his sight. He burned me without flames, touched me without moving a finger. Breathed air into my lungs but also made me suffocate. “Are you mine?”

  The most powerful sensation struck me, like a shooting star cratered into my heart and sent shocks to every extremity, every toe and finger. My heart danced then toppled straight onto the floor. The surge of fear I’d felt at my proximity to a Knife still didn’t compare to the emotional turmoil he caused me. An earthquake that could crumble a castle, a hurricane that could bring down a flying dragon. I knew the affection in my heart was forged on a foundation of trust, but these streaks of heat in my core came from the appearance of his flesh. The hardness of his jawline, the dark beauty in his eyes, the masculine strength that had captured Allegra’s fascination before it captured mine. I never struggled to express my thoughts, but this man made me lose my grasp on language. “Yes.”

  His eyes sharpened slightly, like that was the answer he wanted and expected. The tension continued to burn between us, and I wondered if it affected him the way it affected me. Or perhaps his experience with others had numbed him to the excitement.

  “I—I’ve never done this before…” I needed to defend my hesitation, to explain why I was easily paralyzed by his stare. Why I didn’t have Allegra’s confidence. Why I didn’t know how to seduce a man like a courtesan.

  “I know.”

  “I kissed someone once…but that’s it.” It was an embarrassing statement, but I felt obligated to tell him he wasn’t taking on an equal partner, but an inexperienced virgin who had only explored sex in stories that shouldn’t have been in the library in the first place.

  The intensity of his eyes didn’t wane in disappointment. “I don’t want you less. Whoever came or didn’t come before me doesn’t matter. My heart ached for you before my body, and now, my body desires you the way a fire yearns for a forest.”

  I lost my breath.

  “I will continue to yearn for you until the time is right—and I know that time is not now.”

  First, there was relief—and then the overwhelming pain of disappointment.

  His stare continued to burn into mine with the flames he’d spoken of. Deep inside me. Touching me in places no one had ever reached. He stepped toward me, his head tilting farther down to maintain eye contact as he moved into me.

  Then he touched me.

  His arm circled the small of my back. A fire against my flesh. A tremble that infected my fingertips. He moved farther in, moving his other hand to my neck, my cheek, and then deep into my hair, like he wanted to grab it.

  I inhaled a sharp breath at the new sensation, being cradled and clutched at the same time, claimed by a man who wanted me to himself. My hand went to his arm, and I felt another rush when I actively touched him, when I felt the hardness of his muscle, the warmth of his flesh. I returned my other hand to his heart, where he’d placed it once before so I could feel it beat…feel it beat when I touched him.

  He looked into my eyes, our mouths so close we could kiss.

  I ached for that mouth, ached for it more as I watched him ache for me. But I was paralyzed by his touch, by his stare.

  He seemed to content just to stare at me, to look into the eyes that sometimes made me self-conscious. I didn’t notice it at the castle, but here in the Depths, I noticed the way people stared at their unusual color. Whenever I spoke to someone, they seemed distracted, like the eyes were too disconcerting.

  But I didn’t feel self-conscious now.

  He cradled me closer, guiding my face into his chest as his chin rested upon my head. His hand stayed fisted in my hair, and he tightened his arm around my back, bringing me flush against him, my chest feeling a hardness that resembled a tree trunk. But it was warm. It was safe. It was right.

  It was him.

  I closed my eyes and felt myself drift off on the high, floating like a cloud in a peaceful sky. I stood upon my feet, but it felt effortless, like I lay in my soft bed in the castle, not a care in the world.

  Fulfilling. Satisfying. Meaningful. I didn’t realize how much I’d wanted this until I had it, when I felt our bodies come together and our souls touch. A bridge formed between us, and our hearts met in the middle.

  We stood that way for a long time, holding each other in the silence, pleasure in an innocent touch.

  He was the one to pull away first, his eyes softer than they’d ever been before. His fingers remained deep in my hair, the strands were the reins and I was the beautiful mare. His touch started to fade as he pulled away.

  In a split second, I acted on impulse and tugged him back in. Tugged him right to my lips.

  His mouth landed on mine and went still in surprise.

  I gave him a soft kiss, pushing through my uncertainty and absent confidence and moving my lips against his in the hope it was good enough.

  Then he smiled against my mouth, not in a cruel joke, but in smitten amusement. His hand returned to my hair, and he kissed me. Really kissed me. Kissed me like…the stories I’d read. With passion and desperation, with roaming hands all over my body, with breaths that filled my lungs.

  His lips parted mine, and he turned slightly, taking my mouth from another angle before he pulled my bottom lip into his mouth for a gentle bite. A move that left me breathless before he kissed me again and made me weak. His hand moved to my ass, and he squeezed it through my pants—I liked it.

  Then he gave me his tongue, something I’d never experienced before. Purposeful and properly executed, the kiss felt so good. My fingers moved into his hair, and I felt the veins up his neck. I mimicked his movements and returned my tongue, and I felt his hand go to my throat and squeeze gently.

  Oh fuck.

  His kiss deepened as his other hand slipped under my shirt up my bare back, his warm fingers exploring my flesh before they returned to my ass. Our embrace turned breathless, the two of us burning hotter than the fire in the stone hearth.

  It was the single most exhilarating moment of my life.

  He was the one who ended it, because if he hadn’t, it would have gone on forever. He looked into my face for a hard moment, that same intensity back, like he wanted to take me to bed right there.