Page 37 of Stolen Thorn Bride

So he stiffened his knees and did not fall when his feet hit the stones of the bailey, even though it was a close thing. He answered questions, directed messengers, gave orders.

But when his eyes lifted in response to some internal prompting, the first thing he saw was Kasia.

She stood on the far edge of the bailey, eyes stark in her pale face, arms folded tightly. Her distress was a near-physical ache in his chest, and as their gazes locked, her words echoed in his mind—she’d said there was no shame in asking for time to rest. No humiliation should he require a shoulder to lean on.

Hardly knowing why, once he finished giving instructions, he did not follow Garvan to help establish new patrols, nor did he demand to pen the message to Caislan Daire with his own hands. Fionn stood nearby—no doubt angry that Dechlan had battled the wraith with none of his personal guards for protection—but Dechlan brushed him aside. He could argue with his guards later.

Instead, he moved across the bailey to where Kasia waited, and as he drew near, he held out a hand, the ache in him almost demanding that he touch her.

For the space of three breaths, she stared at his outstretched hand, then loosened her arms… and took it. Squeezed his fingers with her own.

“I’m glad you’re well.”

The ache eased. Warmth bloomed in its place, and Dechlan was suddenly able to breathe again.

He didn’t know what was happening, and he wasn’t sure that he cared. His bondmate’s touch somehow chased away the cold that had frozen his heart since long before the wraith marked him with its claws, and for now, that was enough.

Chapter 11

Kasia doubted she would ever fully forget the feeling that had gripped her heart when Dechlan confronted the wraith.

There had been no need to see the truth of it for herself—not when that icy, alien darkness had suddenly invaded her thoughts and threatened to drag her into an abyss of hopelessness.

It was a horror she had never imagined, not in the most fanciful of stories about knights and the monsters they defeated. This monster was real, and it threatened the lives of everyone around her.

How had the elves stood against this for a hundred years? Without aid or thanks. Because if all she had heard was true, the humans owed their very existence—every moment of safety they enjoyed—to the grim determination of defenders like Dechlan. If the elves were ever overcome? The human lands would be next, and there would be no fight at all. After shunning magic for generations, her people would have no defense against the darkness.

She saw the echoes of that darkness in Dechlan's eyes when he returned—saw what it cost him to confront the danger that had so nearly taken his life. And she saw that darkness ease when she accepted the hand he offered her.

A tiny, furtive hope suddenly bloomed within her as they stood in the bailey, gazing at one another with their fingers entwined.

Could she eventually find a place here? Was there some way she could join the fight against this enemy, and find a way to protect her family from afar?

She would still be searching for a way home. Still be looking for a chance to return long enough to ensure that her siblings would be provided for.

But in the meantime, she was not just going to sit on her hands and wait for permission.

"You're looking particularly fierce at the moment," Dechlan observed with weary humor. "Ought I be concerned over whatever you might be planning?"

"Probably," she replied, though she was not yet ready to share the direction of her thoughts with him. Whatever relationship they had was too uncertain for her to admit that she felt a strange urge to protect him—from his memories, from his endless responsibilities, and from the shadows that would end him if they could.

"The wraith is dead," Dechlan assured her, "and we will be planning our defenses in case of any similar occurrences. But I'm hopeful that this will not be repeated. After a hundred years, I find it unlikely that they would change their behavior so drastically."

"Perhaps," Kasia remarked casually. "But I feel like I should be prepared just in case. I think I would like to ask Tiernan to give me some… er, fighting lessons, if that would be acceptable."

Dechlan's answering expression was decidedly odd. "If that is what you wish," he said carefully. "As I said before, I do not intend for you to be burdened by expectations. You are free to establish yourself here in whatever way brings you peace."

"And if I said it brought me peace to redecorate the entire castle, learn to embroider cushions, and have a pet pig in my sitting room?"

"I would assume that you knew best what would make you happy," Dechlan said agreeably, before suddenly leaning closer and murmuring in her ear. "But I would also be wondering whether my bondmate had been replaced by a particularly inept changeling."

Kasia froze. She'd meant to distract him from asking too many questions about her intentions, but instead… He was so close. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her ear and the silken softness of his hair sliding across her cheek.

He had an unexpected sense of humor, this bondmate of hers, and it only made him more attractive. Icy, remote Dechlan was jaw-dropping enough, but teasing Dechlan?

The pang in her heart told her she could easily fall in love with him. That despite their rocky beginnings, she was halfway there already.

But it would be the worst thing she could possibly do. There was nothing but heartache in store should she fall in love with an elf she was doomed to leave eventually—an elf who could never love her back. He was still tied to the memory of his lost love—a woman who'd fought beside him and known him for most of his life.

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