Page 124 of Rogue Elves of Ardani

It was hard to believe she was looking at the same person she’d pulled out of that prison so recently.

Abruptly, out of nowhere, she thought of how he’d leave to go back to Kuda Varai soon. The thought of it made her chest ache. It was an unfamiliar feeling. She wasn’t the type to get attached to people. Getting attached to someone was usually a mistake.

She’d had romantic partners before, if you could even call them that. More like acquaintances whom she occasionally slept with. They never stuck around long. The novelty of being with an Ashara wore off quickly. None of them had made her heart ache. Nor she theirs, she was sure.

Love was something that happened to other people. And maybe that was for the best. She knew that what she and Vaara had was temporary—because it had to be, because even if Vaara had felt the same way about her, how could the two of them really be together? They both knew it. But she couldn’t bring herself not to cling to him. Slowly, she was realizing that what she felt for him was not like what she’d felt for anyone else before.

Her throat was dry as she swallowed. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

She watched his lips move as he spoke, tracing their shape with her eyes. His hands went to her second boot, and his palm gently held her calf as he pulled it off. He reached for the clasp of her cloak next. She moved to allow him to pull it off her and hang it on a chair to dry.

She pulled her tunic and leggings off on her own, leaving her underclothes beneath. Vaara watched her silently. He kept pretending to be annoyed with her, but when he smiled right then, he looked more relaxed, more himself, than Crow had ever seen him.

“Come here,” she said.

He obeyed, stepping between her legs. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down to touch her lips to his. She felt him smile again before he pulled away an inch.

“Drunkenness isn’t attractive,” he murmured against her lips.

She gave him an offended look. “I’malwaysattractive.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he said. “And yet…” He shrugged.

She slumped into the pillows, closing her eyes. Immediately she felt sleep trying to take her. She curled up, trying to conserve warmth in the cold room. She heard fabric shifting as Vaara shed his clothes. The mattress sank as he lay down beside her.

She peered up at him in the dark, suddenly thinking of how he’d looked when he’d been about to die by her hand.

The feeling of standing over him, brandishing that knife, had been indescribably awful. The mere memory made her feel sick, made her breath come faster and tighter, as if their escape had all been a hopeful dream and she might actually still be there in that room, about to kill one of the only people in the world she cared about.

But then she thought of Patros. She remembered Vaara kneeling over him, sword in hand, blood on his hands and his sleeves.

Did he know what he’d done for her? Did he understand what this meant to her?

“Thank you,” she said again.

She heard him take a breath. Then he leaned down to kiss her again. His hand curled around her neck and her cheek as his lips touched hers.

“Thank you,” she repeated. This time, she was holding back tears.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him, stroking her hair.

“Thank you,” she whispered against his chest.

After twenty years in his service, Patros was finally dead.

Chapter 35

Crow awoke with a pounding headache. Vaara had already vacated the bed. She found she was disappointed not to wake up beside him, and she tried not to analyze that reaction too deeply.

She found him downstairs, in the mostly empty bar, sitting alone at a table. He was bent over a sheet of paper lined with scattered notes and little diagrams. The writing was all curving Varai script.

“What’s that?” she asked, massaging her temple as she came to stand beside him. Gods, her head felt like there was a creature inside of it trying to get out.

He set down the pencil he’d been holding. He didn’t speak at first, and the air between them felt heavy. She wasn’t certain whether that was a good or bad thing.

Instead of answering, he pushed a cup of dark liquid across the table. “Nero brought this for you.”

---