Page 32 of Heir of the Autumn Queen

“Gods… and you think I’m stubborn.”

We stand facing each other, and even amidst all the teasing, I feel the intense urge to reach out and touch him, but remind myself that even if being with him is easy and feels good, he’s still a stranger. We search each other’s eyes, and even without touching this time, I feel the heat of that ever-present energy swelling between us. In the name of self preservation, I’ve convinced myself that it’s only an intense, physical attraction, which I’ve never really felt with anyone. Before I can act on the impulse to throw myselfat him, an urge that only seems to be growing every second I’m in his presence, I take a step away from him. A flash of disappointment crosses his features but is replaced almost instantly with his usual, broad smile.

“Shall we?” Finn bows and gestures back toward the road.

Chapter Fifteen

We walk until sundown and make camp in the woods, several miles from civilization. I make a small fire and Finn disappears for a while before returning to our campsite with two pheasants, holding them by the talons and giving me an impish grin. We quickly pluck and clean the small game, and I hear Finn whispering something under his breath while he works.

“What are you whispering over there?” I eye him curiously.

“Dafina’s Benediction.”

Deep in the back of my mind, I remember some semblance of a prayer that I learned in school that one could say upon making a kill, but it’s been years since I’ve heard the words spoken out loud.“Will you recite it for me?”

He closes his eyes briefly before quoting some of the invocation.“In this solemn moment, as I take this life to sustain my own, I express my gratitude and seek your blessing. I acknowledge the profound sacrifice of this animal, which has given its life so that I may nourish my body. I pledge to strive for compassion and stewardship in all my actions, seeking harmony with nature and all manner of creature.”

His words flow over me like honey, and I gain a newfound appreciation for the pheasant in my hands.“Do you say that every time you make a kill?” I ask, shocked that he would take the time to recite the same prayer every time he hunts.

“I try to, yes.” He skewers the now-clean bird with a stick to roast over the fire.

“That’s beautiful.” The fact that this powerful male takes the time to thank whatever creature he’d killed to sustain him… maybe he’s not as arrogant as I thought.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.” He reaches for my bird and I hand it to him, and he skewers it just as he had done the first.

“You don’t really strike me as the kind of male who does his own hunting very often.” I cock an eyebrow.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyebrows furrow slightly in offense.

I shrug.“Just that you look like you’re used to being served, rather than serving.” It’s not that he seems incapable in any way, he just gives off an air of privilege that oftentimes only accompanies the wealthy.

“Ah.” He doesn’t bother returning the slight jab, making me feel bad for assuming anything about his upbringing or social status.

“Who taught you how to hunt?” I ask, trying to recover from the awkwardness I created with my ill-spoken comment.

Finn rotates the birds above the fire to ensure they cook evenly.“No one.”

“Impressive.”

Finn laughs dryly.“You didn’t sound all that impressed just now when you called me a pompous prick.”

“I never said that.”

“You’re not wrong,” he concedes, staring into the fire.“I’ve spent a good chunk of my life being waited on, but only because I had nothing better to do with my time. Between tutoring and training, my existence was planned out to the second. Hunting is how I escaped the pressures of my father’s ever-present expectations.” His usual cocky attitude is nowhere to be seen, replaced by solemnity as those dark, power-laced shadows seep out and swirl around him.

I’m surprised at his blatant honesty, and my heart pangs for the young boy who was always trying to impress his father, only to have it never be enough. Before I can think better of it, I reach out and touch his forearm. His muscles tense under my touch, that zip of power radiating through me where we’re connected.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize for any pain I might’ve caused with my ignorant words, and for the childhood that made him feel unworthy of his father’s attention and affection.

I remove my hand as Finn shrugs again, before he rotates the birds another time, checking to see if they’re done. We sit in silence and watch our dinner roast for several minutes until Finn deems them edible. They smell heavenly, and my stomach grumbles in anticipation of the juicy meat after a long day of travel. He pulls a hunting knife out from his pocket and cuts into one of the pheasants, satisfied with the cook. He hands me one of the birds, and I take out my own dagger to cut into the juicy breast. I eat a chunk of meat off the tip of my knife and moan, closing my eyes as I chew.“Gods, this is good.”

“Good to know I’m more than just a pretty face.” Finn finally returns my dig from earlier.

The return of his self-assuredness brings me more joy than it probably should, and I smile at him unabashedly.“I never said you have a pretty face.”

“Well, not as pretty as yours, anyway.” He winks at me as he takes another bite.

“You really don’t give up, do you?” I roll my eyes at his incessant complimenting.

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