Page 97 of A Reflection of Dusk and Dawn

She shouldn’t be doing common work, but I know this is exactly where she needs to be. These simple acts of kindness and service—they’re as much a part of her as breathing.

Aleksander nearly broke that beautiful spirit of hers. The thought sends a surge of rage through me, but I push it down. What matters now is protecting that light inside her and nurturing it back to its full brilliance.

I grab an armful of firewood from the nearby pile and make my way over. The cook’s helpers straighten when they see me, but Annora just lifts those solemn blue eyes to mine. A tiny smile touches her lips—small, but real.

It hits me in the chest, that smile. How many times had I feared I’d never see it again?

“The fire could use more wood,” I say, dropping the logs beside her.

She nods, that slight smile still in place. “Thank you, Jasce.”

I grab another armload of wood, and when I set it down beside Annora, her eyes meet mine again. Love shimmers there, but clouds still lurk beneath—the ones that make her hands tremble when she thinks no one’s watching.

Aleksander should die for what he did to her, but that path leads straight to my father’s footsteps. I spent my life watching him destroy everything beautiful, starting with my mother. Yet, even after all that, my mother never lost her way. She saw what Lyra’s death could mean. Not just an end, but a beginning.

Something tells me she knew exactly what she was doing when she linked Annora and Lyra’s souls. She gave me a chance at love, and she gave our people a chance at peace.

Annora’s knife pauses over a carrot. “Jasce, you don’t have to stay here. I know you have important things to do.”

I stop beside her. “More important than watching my wife massacre vegetables?”

“I am not massacring them.”

“No?” I pick up a mangled carrot piece. “This poor fellow might disagree.”

A flash of indignation crosses her face. “That is a perfectly acceptable size for soup.”

“If you say so.” I lean closer, dropping my voice. “Though, I’ve seen you be much more precise with your hands.”

Pink blooms across her cheeks as she bumps her shoulder against mine. “Jasce…”

“What?” I ask, feigning innocence. “I was talking about your drawings.”

Her eyes narrow, but that smile refuses to fade. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly charming?”

She gasps as I scoop her into my arms. “Put me down.”

A grin tugs at the corners of my mouth as I carry her away from the cook’s tent. “I can’t do that.”

She squirms, trying to wiggle free. “People are staring at us.”

“Let them stare,” I say as I tighten my hold around her and carry her across the camp.

“You’re making a scene.”

“And you’re making it difficult to carry you,” I tease as I adjust my grip again.

She holds up the carrot and knife. “I have weapons.”

“I’m very afraid,” I say with a laugh.

We weave through the camp, drawing a few amused glances from passing warriors. I ignore them, focused solely on the fiery woman in my arms.

“You should be.”

“You wouldn’t harm your beloved husband, would you?” We reach our tent, and I nudge the flap aside with my boot.

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