Page 94 of Silverbow
“Probably?” Aiden asked, craning his neck to get a better look at the knight.
“I…spurned his affections.”
“I would have thought your lord father had better judgment,” the fire wielder mused.
Enya rubbed her thumb over a scar in the table. “I think he was rather desperate for any I did not scare away,” she admitted.
“Do we stay or go?” Colm asked.
“We finish our meal and go,” Oryn said quietly.
Every muscle in Enya’s body went taught as a bowstring when he draped a casual arm around the back of her chair and leaned close, physically shielding her from view. She clutched her fork like she might have to stab someone with it and tried to ignore the unwelcome warmth that bloomed in her middle. She could feel the heat of his skin and smell the scent of cedar clinging to him.Oh, gods.
“Don’t look up. He’s looking this way.”
Her heart went skittering wildly at the caress of his breath in her ear. It was utterly ridiculous. She had a bounty on her head, but the only thing she could think about was the way he looked without a shirt.
Light, get a grip. You’re his captive.
“I’ll ready the horses. Aiden, bags,” Colm ordered. He rose from his chair and stretched lazily, sauntering across the common room to the door. He moved without hurry, but a few heads turned his way, noticing the fluid grace he couldn’t quite hide.
“I’m always left with the bags,” Aiden muttered sulkily.
“When you’re a blademaster, I’ll carry the bags,” Bade breathed.
Another time, Enya may have marveled that Bade had seemingly made a joke, but not now. Now she was anxiously tapping her foot trying to look at everything while staring at her plate and trying not to think about the very tall, very stony man sitting beside her. The familiar panic jumbled with that blasted heat.
“Ansel?” Oryn asked.
She squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s a bit warm in here.”
“Hold on,” he said levelly. “We’ll be out soon.”
Hold on. Hold on.
His thumb made small circles on her upper arm and every thought scattered.
Oh, light.
“Just like Analuz,” he murmured to Bade over her head.
“Which time?”
“The widow.”
“Is now really the time to reminisce?” She hissed, trying to focus on some thread of anger to keep the panic at bay.
“Is there something you would prefer to talk about while we wait, Ansel? Perhaps what it was that was just going through your head?”
Oh, gods.Enya wanted to melt into the floorboards.
Oryn chuckled darkly. “Or perhaps your penchant for setting fires or your inexplicable disregard for your own life?”
Enya slid her eyes from the fork in her hand to Oryn’s throat. “And what about yours?”
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this,” he mumbled, his eyes cast upward.
Enya didn’t think he was talking to her.Probably talking to his bloody gods.
