Page 27 of Garlands and Gauntlets

Vaelin

Morning comes softly, slippingthrough the cracks in the curtains like it’s trying not to wake us. The fire in the hearth has burned low, embers glowing faintly from the other side of the bookshelf, and the world outside feels muted, muffled by snow.

I blink against the pale light. For a moment, I forget where I am–why the bed feels so cozy and warm.

But then I look up and see Theo.

He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, his broad shoulders hunched as he quietly gathers his things. He’s already dressed–much tomy chagrin–and he seems like he’s ready to go. The sight of him, so steady and purposeful, stirs something in me.

Oh–a feeling I’m not really used to.

Panic.

“You’re leaving,” I say, my voice rough with sleep.

He glances back, hurt in his amber eyes. “I have to,” he says. “If I wait any longer, I might not go at all.”

I sit up, running a hand through my hair to tidy it–at least a little. “So that’s it?” I ask. “You’re just going to walk out and start chasing shadows?”

“Not shadows,” he says. “My dad–my real father. I need to know who he is, Vaelin. I need to understand where I come from.”

I can’t argue with him. I’ve seen how much this matters to him. But the thought of him leaving…it’s unbearable.

“Last night I told you you don’t have to go alone,” I say quietly.

He frowns. “You mean…”

“I’m coming with you.”

For a second, it looks like he’s too stunned to speak.

“You are?”

I cross my arms, jaw set. “Yeah. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

A grin spreads across his face. “You’re serious?”

“Completely,” I nod.

Before I can give him any more shit, he’s lunging toward me, knocking me over in a big bear hug. I laugh in surprise as he peppers my throat with kisses, then takes my lips, kissing me hard.

He pulls away, stroking my hair back from my face. “Are you sure?” he asks. “This is going to be dangerous. And probably miserable. And–”

“And I’ll be with you,” I interrupt. “So I’ll enjoy every second of it.”

He stiffens slightly, face going rigid like he’s trying not to cry…then he softens, kisses me again. “You don’t know how much this means to me,” he says, his voice cracking just slightly.

“Hey,” I shrug. “I don’t have anything else going on.”

By the time we step outside, packs on our backs, the snow has blanketed the streets in a soft layer of white. The air is crisp, the kind that stings your lungs–but I try to think of it as bracing. Besides, we’ll swing by my folks’ place and get some better traveling gear, more blankets and winter clothes.

We’re really doing this.

Together.

Theo walks beside me, his pack slung over one shoulder, strides slow and steady. I can feel his energy radiating over me, warm and brighter than the sun, and I have to fight the urge to look over at him every five seconds.

I’m going to spend this journey getting to know him, protecting him…

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