Page 26 of Bound By Blood
He glanced back into the sky, his brow furrowing.
That storm was going to be a big one. Especially with how hot it had been recently. The overhang beyond the window would not shield him much.
"Would you like to join me in here?" she asked.
Her stomach tightened, but she brushed the fear aside. If he was going to be dangerous, he had had ample opportunities already.
He froze, then turned his head, his amethyst eyes wide. "You said I could—I can come in?"
"If you want. It's going to storm."
More thunder grumbled as if in agreement. Lightning flashed in the dark clouds as he moved from the window to the door.
Her heart beat a little faster, her hands sweating. This might be the most foolish thing she'd done.
But she didn't care about that any more.
She picked up a green vial of marking oil and made a sign on the door, then opened it. He stood on the other side, still eyeing her with caution. "Give me your hand," she said.
He hesitated, then obeyed, turning his palm up. "You're sure?"
With swift strokes, she marked the symbol across his hand in a fluid motion. "I'm sure. Come inside before you get struck by lightning or worse."
He ducked his head to avoid the low beam of the doorjamb and then crossed over the threshold with an almost tentative glance at her as if to ensure she really meant this.
She nodded. Heat coiled within her. Why? It was just a simple act of kindness.
After setting the oil aside, she picked up one of the radishes for the night's soup, focusing on its bright coloration and the bit of green at the top. It had been a good year for radishes.
Buttons barked and scampered about. He jumped up on his hind legs and practically danced. Ryul smiled a little as he stooped and rubbed the dog's short folded ears.
Buttons lapped at Ryul's hand and nuzzled him.
Ryul whispered as if there was some chance she might not hear him. "Oh, yes, such a good one, aren't you? Not a garm, but such a good boy." As he continued to scratch Buttons' ears, he glanced around. "You're getting low on supplies, aren't you? Or do you have another store room?"
"Oh." His observation startled her. Before she could concoct a lie, the truth slipped out. "No. They're just getting low."
She was going through supplies faster than usual.
"It's almost autumn though. Are you planning on returning to the city for winter? Or will you start preparing soon?" He stood. Somehow, the concern that radiated from his pinched expression seemed…sincere.
She trimmed the tops from the radishes and dropped them into the bowl for composting. It was suddenly a more painful question than it should have been.
"I'll be fine. I always am. And I'm very aware of my situation."
He strode around the cottage, brow still furrowed and hands on his trim waist as he took it all in. "There is a big difference here now compared to what it was—" He turned to face her, his eyes widening. "I'm eating all your supplies, aren't I?"
"We made a trade," she said evenly. Not that she had expected him to devour the entire pot of soup each night. This blood fae could eat for twelve. "If I went to the city and bought a dog, do you think they would let me pay in soup? Of course not. So don't worry about it."
His brow smoothed. "The only reason they wouldn't is because they haven't tried your soup."
"My very non-magical soup." She tossed him a head of garlic. "Make yourself useful and start peeling."
"Hmmm." He wrinkled his nose. "Garlic skin is…like paper you can't get off your fingers."
"Now you know why I don't like to peel it. Unfortunately, it's an integral ingredient to most of the recipes I know. Both healing and pleasurable."
"Pleasurable?" He raised an eyebrow, a smile quirking up. "I don't think they put garlic in the passion chocolates or the love cakes."
