Page 84 of Of Sword & Silver

“I didn’t realize you were making this.” I sniff it cautiously.

“Well, you were pretty busy making the most of the poison you found in the cellar.”

I cough again, and she tips some into my mouth, causing me to sputter.

The coughing fit immediately ceases, and I make myself swallow the foul mixture.

“She’s getting worse,” Caedia tells the Sword.

“She can hear you,” I slur, grumpy and slightly drunk.

But gods, I’m alive. I’m alive, despite the white-out blizzard, despite the curse, despite the manticore, and to spite Sola her fucking self.

“You should sleep,” Caedia says with a smile. “You need rest.”

“I can’t sleep while they’re making all that noise—” I gesture at Morrow and Lara, but they’ve stopped making noise.

My jaw drops open. She’s kissing him. Oh.

“Come on,” the Sword says, a hint of amusement in his deep voice. “We can give them some privacy.”

“Don’t tell me you’re taking me down to the cellar again,” I say. The Sword’s been in and out of there, hauling up barrels and other things he’s found beneath. How the hells he’s able to see down there, I guess I’ll just have to blame on his Fae heritage or his allegiance to Hrakan or, if that fails, maybe he’s conned some spirits into being his eyes and ears in the dark.

“It’s not so bad,” the Sword says, and when his dimple flashes, I shrug one shoulder.

Hard to argue with that dimple.

I follow him down the dark steps on my own this time, warm and fuzzy from the liquor, from being safe from the storm outside, and from… whatever the hells is going on between me and this huge male I thought hated me.

When I reach the bottom, the Sword flips the door overhead closed, and I gasp in surprise.

He’s set up a little room down here.

“I didn’t notice you doing this,” I say slowly, turning around and taking it all in. The stone cellar walls are hung with sconces I didn’t notice before, but now they’re lit, fire dancing merrily in their iron basins. Shadows chase each other across the small underground room, and the dirt floors are covered in our sleeping supplies.

I chug the rest of the scalding tea, even though it makes my eyes water worse.

He’s watching me carefully, his dark eyes narrowed as he scrutinizes every expression that passes over my face.

“Sword,” I say quietly, tearing my gaze away from the pallet he’s set up on the floor… for us.

I swallow hard.

“I thought you might sleep better away from everyone. Lara and her snoring in particular,” he says roughly, scratching the scruff on his jaw. “Caedia said you need rest, and I don’t want you wandering outside tonight in these conditions.”

“Sword,” I say again, this time grinning up at him. Gods, he’s so huge, he eats up nearly all the air in the room. I step closer, poking his chest. “I would almost say you’re worried about me. Are you going soft on me?”

A muscle in his temple twitches, and I keep my finger on him for a moment before placing my palm in its place over his heart.

“Would you rather I be hard for you?”

My eyes widen. Are we going to—is he… confusion tangles my thoughts.

I really thought he hated me.

You’re my punishment, he told me.

That’s not how he’s looking at me now. No, I was mistaken. It’s not hate—maybe it never was. I shift closer to him, watching him so, so carefully.

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