Page 112 of Feathers and Thorns

He no longer wanted to be a shut-in, unwilling to open himself up to the world for fear of rejection. He had spent his entire life in cold, dark places and wanted to run directly into the sun, into the warmth that was Soren’s heart, and stay there until they were old and gray, reading side-by-side until the final embers of the hearth burned out. And when their bodies finally gave out, they would join each other in the after, finding peace among the stars.

Soren cleared her throat, and he realized he had yet to respond to her question.

“Yeah,” he replied, “let’s go home.”

Soren stood in the kitchen of her father’s home, breathing it all in. The smell of wood and parchment, clay and sand, filled her nostrils. She was elated to be back, though she had to admit it was slightly surreal to see Rook in a place that was so close to her heart.

Enara had decided to stay with Laraline and Alondra for a while after they had broken the news of Baztien’s death. Soren was still coming to terms with it and wanted to be there for her but hadn’t wanted to argue when Enara had packed up her things, gave Soren a teary-eyed hug, and then hopped onto Ellie’s back, trotting back toward town.

The old man had stayed true to his word and had taken care of Ellie, Obsidian, and Enara’s riding companion over the last two months and had been happy to trade Ellie back for the war horse she had been riding in exchange for his lost canoe.

“This one gave me quite a shock,” he’d said, giving Obie a fond pat. “Never had an issue, almost as if he were waiting for something. Then, about a week ago, he just vanished! I searched high and low for him, but his tracks stopped mid-stride. It was the darnedest thing.”

Soren and Enara had shared conspiratory smiles, not wanting to spread the news about a flying horse.

“Well, thank you for taking care of them both,” Enara had said, tracing her hand down Ellie’s strong neck.

“It was my pleasure. This one, in particular, is such a sweet girl.”

“She is, isn’t she?” Enara had responded.

They had bid the man goodbye, promising to visit again if they were in the area, and had taken Ellie home. Soren knew Baz had been smiling down on them, watching over their journey.

In the short time they had been away, Baz’s mothers, along with the other townsfolk, had rebuilt the main strip in town and had been working their way outward. Luckily for Laraline and Alondra, that meant their house had been one of the first to have been mended. There had not been much left, but somehow, Baz’s room had remained largely untouched by the flames. The townspeople had stopped the fire before it had spread all the way through their home.

Her heart broke for Enara, and for herself, and as she looked at Rook, she couldn’t help but feel guilty that the man she loved had survived when Enara’s had not.

“You okay?” Rook asked, his soft tenor breaking through her mind spiral.

“Yeah,” she said, picking at her fingernails. “Just feels weird to be here again.” She shifted back and forth on her feet, avoiding his eyes.

She had spent plenty of time with Rook alone but, for some reason, having him in this house—her house—seemed more intimate. She suddenly felt even more vulnerable as his glacier gaze slipped over her. Her skin felt hot and tight against her clothes, the leather vest seeming to cinch a few inches closer to her chest.

He held out a hand to her, and the warmth of it fought off the last of the autumn chill. Winter was coming, and the yard was filled with leaves of all shades—orange, red, and yellow. They had crunched and crackled as they’d made their way inside after their long journey.

Soren shook off the thought as Rook pulled her into his chest and nuzzled his face into her hair.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, pressing a kiss in the soft place just under her jaw.

“Like I want to crawl into bed and not come out for the foreseeable future,” she answered honestly.

“I think I could arrange that for you.” His voice hummed against her neck as his fingers undid the laces on her vest, his breath whispering across the shell of her ear, causing her to giggle.

“That tickles,” she said.

“Good,” he replied, his voice rumbling low in his chest as their lips met.

“Rook?” Soren asked against his mouth.

“Yes, little bird?” he responded between kisses, pushing the vest off her shoulders and letting it clatter to the floor.

“I hate you.”

She could feel the smile that formed on his lips and pressed her body closer to him.

“I know,” he replied. His skin tingled as the mating bond lit up all of his senses, urging him forward.

“Rook?” she asked again, her face flushed with desire.

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