Page 70 of Fate

She did not know these rules. Knew only that she liked it best when she was with him. When they touched, and he said sweet things to her. About devotion. Commitment.

And maybe that made her greedy and a bit too possessive.

She didn’t know that either.

But when she settled back onto her own stool, she kept hold of his hand. She watched him drink lukewarm tea from one of the mugs she’d used since childhood.

“So, you’ll go to the Hall, and I’ll...” She hesitated, not knowing what she might do with herself. Help Da with his craft? Or maybe visit Eris?

She’d need to find her own things. Ways to keep busy. To contribute.

“I’ll do something productive,” she declared after a moment’s hesitation. And watched Lucian smile ever so slightly. “And we can supper together?”

He squeezed her hand. “Yes.”

And her heart had no business warming as it did. For the bond to hum and be so distracting when they had things to do that did not include returning to their cots and assuaging it with more of their delightful congress.

But they could.

Later.

Which was rather a pleasing thought.

7. Stay

Firen yelped—a distinctly unfeminine sound, most particularly when it accompanied the lurch and wriggle as she fought both the quilt surrounding her and the arm that was suddenly around her waist.

Lucian loomed over her, and there was a distinct tug of happiness through the bond that thrilled her.

“You jumped on me!” she protested, because that seemed the right sort of thing to do when she’d taken a moment to herself, only to be accosted with her eyes closed and her body almost ready to drift into an afternoon nap.

“Which would not have been possible if you were conscious,” Lucian argued, still keeping most of his weight on her. Which she should really fuss about, but didn’t. Yet. “Are you sick?” His eyes narrowed as he looked down at her, and she rolled her eyes.

“Hardly. My eyes got tired, that’s all. Chains are fiddly work, but people do like to wear them.” Necklaces, anklets. Even the bracelets that dripped down daintily toward long fingers. Trinkets and gifts for special occasions. They sold well, even if she did not always care for the tediousness of making them.

Rings must be sized, making it all the harder for the buyer. But chains...

She shifted so that she could place both hands about his neck, smiling at him tiredly. “And what has you home early?”

If he minded she called the loft home, he did not complain. They were to leave tomorrow. Or... the week was ending. Shewouldn’t pretend she hadn’t fallen asleep with an ache in her stomach the last two nights in trepidation of it.

Which had woken Lucian. And he’d grumbled and rolled back over to her, and rubbed at her skin until she warmed all over, and if they’d kissed and loved again, that was hardly her fault.

“You should not work so hard that it hurts you.” He smoothed at the line he must have found between her brows where the strain settled.

She smiled and nodded, all the while thinking of how many coins it could fetch her at the next market.

Fetch them.

“Forget about that. Tell me, is your good mood upon finding me already in bed and awaiting you, or is there something else that pleased you?”

He rolled to his side of their joined cots, and there probably should have been some sort of scolding about outerwear and boots and bedding—but she noted his feet were already off the end of the cot and she needn’t have thought otherwise.

“I finally met with Vandran.”

Firen did not so much as twitch, but she’d hoped one of the faceless names from the list would have caused his sudden shift in mood.

“Oh, yes?”

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