Page 30 of Stolen Thorn Bride

Dechlan struggled to free himself from the memories, belatedly recalling that he’d asked her a question.

“When your magic first appeared?”

She nodded, with a sideways glance that said she’d interrupted his thoughts on purpose. As if she’d known they were about to sweep him into unwanted reminiscences.

“And you’ve never been taught or encouraged to develop your gift?”

“Curse, remember?” she said dryly.

“I hope that you will believe no such prejudice exists among elves,” he pointed out. “Magic is a part of what binds us to each other and to our land. It is the only way we can defend ourselves against the wraiths. We would no more punish you for possessing it than we would cut off our own arms.”

His bondmate shifted in her saddle and winced, probably sore and exhausted from the unaccustomed exercise.

“Then…” She hesitated. “Would you… Could someone here teach me how to control it? I know elf magic is probably different, but anything you can tell me is better than nothing.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Whatever we can do to aid you. I believe your gift is different from ours, but no less valuable.”

Using generalized terms and with much backtracking, Dechlan spent the next hour explaining his own magic as simply as he could. He then asked numerous questions about how Kasia’s magic manifested until he thought perhaps he understood some of the differences.

As best he could tell, her magic was drawn from the energy of life—the energy all living things exuded as they grew or changed. She could grasp it, harness it, and channel it with her will, although thus far, it seemed she had mostly done so by accident, producing only heat and light.

Elves, by contrast, generated their own magic. Their power was attuned to nature and could only affect the natural world. That was why the wraiths could not be defeated with raw magic—wherever the hell-spawned creatures came from, they were not native to the same world as elves and humans.

Instead, elven smiths had learned to craft blades that could hold magic—blades that burned even the wraiths’ barely substantial forms.

There was a great deal he could have said on that subject, but Dechlan chose not to share too much about the wraiths or their dangers. He had no wish to frighten Kasia when they finally seemed to be making progress. There would be time enough later for her to learn the truth of what they faced, but not now. Not when the tension between them had eased until it felt almost natural to be riding beside her.

His bondmate, too, seemed to feel the change, and spoke more freely, without discernible hostility or self-consciousness. She even laughed once or twice, and the sound was like a shaft of sunlight in the midst of a wraith-spawned night.

When they stopped to rest at midday, Dechlan was surprised to find himself exhausted. He hesitated before sliding from the saddle, looking down at the ground with a grimace as he calculated the odds of dismounting without falling.

“I’m so sorry.” Kasia appeared beside his mount looking both remorseful and hesitant. “I’d forgotten you’re still recovering. You know”—she bit her lip and looked down at the ground—“there’s no shame in asking for more time to rest if you need it. And I promise no one else will ever know if you require a shoulder to lean on once in a while.”

His first impulse was to reject the idea that he might need a human’s help. How could he have grown so weak that he could not do something as simple as dismounting from his wolf without aid?

But some instinct told him that this moment had the power to change their relationship forever. How he chose to respond to his bondmate’s tentative overtures could potentially destroy the fragile trust they’d begun to build between them.

So he smothered his shame and offered her a nod instead. “I would be grateful,” he said, and allowed himself to lean on Kasia as he eased his way out of the saddle and waited for his knees to decide whether to hold him up.

They grumbled but cooperated. After a few moments, Dechlan was able to release his bondmate’s shoulder, reluctantly surprised by the strength that had not wavered when she took his weight.

“Thank you,” he said, without stepping away. Instead, he looked down into Kasia’s suddenly shy hazel eyes and spoke with all the sincerity he was capable of. “It is only thanks to you that I am alive to be concerned with such ridiculous things as my dignity. I hope you will forgive me for rewarding you with bitterness. That you will grant me the opportunity to do better in the future.”

For a moment, it seemed she was too overwhelmed to answer.

“I… um… yes.” She blinked and appeared strangely flustered. But through their bond, he could feel happiness start to rise, like the first flowers of spring raising their heads slowly through the earth after a long winter.

Perhaps, despite their painful beginnings, there was hope for their future after all.

Chapter 9

Kasia had never realized there could be so much pain in the world. At least not from something as simple asriding.

“Why don’t people justwalk?” she muttered under her breath, giving a quick laugh when Aral tilted his head to eye her reproachfully. “No, it’s not your fault, love,” she said, giving him a quick hug. “I’m just sore, that’s all.”

From where he stood beside her, Dechlan smiled down sympathetically. “I swear it will get better. Eventually.”

Kasia took a firm grip on her heart as she smiled back, reminding herself for the thousandth time in the past nine days that nothing had really changed.

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