Page 37 of Power of Draken

Integrity, the part of my mind that I really wish would stay silent informs me. Kyrian won’t give up integrity. Because he is too good of a male to lie to Rowan. Even by omission.

“I get leg cramps,” Rowan explains to Kyrian. “A lot. I also trip over things. A lot. Sometimes I trip into the practice sword I’m supposed to be wielding against, well, not me. So, I’m really sorry in advance for you getting stuck with me on this.”

That makes Kyrian freeze for a heartbeat. Then he is in motion, stepping around to crouch in front of Rowan. He is a kind of traditionally beautiful male. Muscular but agile, with a strong jawline, high cheekbones that go on for miles, and blue eyes that pierce through settling darkness. Unlike mine, his scars are on the inside. Oh, and he is Flurry royalty. If he ever gives in to the pull that I know Rowan has on him, he is going to make her forget my existence in the a span of a breath.

Now, Kyrian’s fingers go to Rowan's with possession that makes something uncomfortable twist inside me.

“That is absolute horseshit,” Kyrian tells her. “We aren’t stuck with you. We chose you. You and all the chaos you bring wherever you go. Ye hear me, lass?”

Rowan’s answering smile slices through me. I want her to smile at me like that tonight too. And I’m going to find a way to make that happen.

“Can we build a fire?” Rowan asks.

Kyrian shakes his head as he rises. “We are too close to the main trail. A campfire in the middle of the night would be a plea for an assault.”

“Right.” Rowan agrees readily but her body is tense and she is working hard not to flinch at the same forest melody that I find soothing. I wish there was something I could do to change that.

By the time we are done eating our rations of dried meat, cheese and bread, the darkness is already blanketing us. The temperature has dropped steeply from the day’s hike, proving once again that my shoulder is a bloody reliable barometer. Maybe I will one day thank the alpha who’d dislocated it for me over and over after his pack decimated mine.

Getting ready to bed down, I lay the sleeping pallets out next to each other, tucking Rowan’s roll between mine and Kyrian’s. “Get some sleep, rabbit.” I pat her bedding in enticement.

“Still not a rabbit,” she says but slips off her shoes and crouches on the blanket. Her hair is delightfully unruly, and her attempts to brush it out with her fingers are only making it worse. I’d help if I didn’t think she’d try to break my nose for it. Rowan tucks a lock behind her ear. “Umm. How is this going to work exactly?”

“Define ‘this’,” says Kyrian.

She motions to the bedrolls. “Shouldn’t we be farther apart and all?” Even as she says it, Rowan flinches at an owl call. I’m starting to think she’s not slept outside before.

“Worried you’ll overheat next to Kyr and me?” Coming up behind her, I let my breath tickle the back of her neck while stealing a full lungful of her scent. She’s anxious and uncertain. And, stars, she is freezing cold. I let none of that knowledge seep into my voice though. “That you’ll be a steamed rabbit for breakfast?”

“Seriously Logan?”

I hadn’t meant it that way, but now her indignation is too much to let pass. I drop my voice to a whisper. “For the record, I happen to love eating steamed rabbit. Very… succulent.”

“Oh gods.”

If the sun was still out, I know I’d be seeing her ears turning red now. Even in the darkness, I can feel the heat suddenly crawling up her skin.

“Don’t listen to that arsehole,” Kyrian calls, settling on Rowan's other side. “Except the part about staying warm while you sleep. You’ll be glad for the body heat.”

“I don’t think I have any to share. I’m an icicle,” she says apologetically.

“A very correctable problem.” I pull Rowan against me under the blanket, her back tight to my chest and my knees bending into her. It’s good for her. And if it happens to be good for me too, is that so wrong? “Relax and sleep.”

She squirms.

I tighten my arm around her before that squirming gives my other desires away. She squirms again anyway and it takes me five minutes of imagining myself wading through ice infested water until I can trust myself to not poke her back. Just as I start breathing easier, Rowan breaks the settling silence.

“Kyrian?”

Not the name I wish she’d said.

“Hmm?” he replies.

“I don’t know anything about you.”

Kyrian, who is lying on his back, puts his hand behind his head. “What do you want to know?”

“Umm…” Rowan mulls that over. “Do you have any siblings?”

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