Page 67 of The Scribe (Irin Chronicles 1)

“Rhys.” His friend froze halfway to the door. “I’m not backing away again.”

The scribe shook his head and grimaced. “You changeable bastard.”

“She doesn’t feel that way for you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do.” Malachi rose and walked toward him. “The same way I know she’s for me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Rhys’s eyes met his in challenge.

“Absolutely sure.”

The three metin the garden as the sky took on the deep, midnight blue of the evening. It was late, but Malachi had already called the restaurant, reserving his favorite table in a corner of the balcony. They walked toward town, Ava between them, and Malachi forced himself to remain casual, even when the scent of her perfume drifted to him on the breeze. It held notes of jasmine and smoke, a sweet fragrance with hidden depths he knew would be even stronger at the curve of her neck where he had kissed her before. Kissed her neck. Her mouth. He imagined nibbling on the skin that peeked from above her waistband when she wore the green shirt he liked.

Malachi let his mind wander down sensuous paths, knowing she would hear the tone of his thoughts even if she couldn’t understand them. Ava turned around, eyes wide and color high. He simply smiled before he shrugged and kept walking, letting their hands brush casually on the uneven sidewalk.

“What kind of food does this restaurant serve?” she asked, obviously trying to ignore him.

“Turkish, along with some Cappadocian dishes that are very good. There is a lamb dish I think you would like.”

“I love lamb,” Rhys said. “Quite the delicious fluffy animal, don’t you think?”

Ava gave him a mock scowl. “Do you dine on kitten, too?”

“Only if they’re prepared with the right sauce, love.”

The two joked all the way to the restaurant. Malachi tried not to let it bother him, but they had obviously become familiar over the past week. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Ava to like Rhys. He was one of Malachi’s closest friends, after all. But he also knew the look on Rhys’s face, and it was one he hadn’t seen in two hundred years. The Irin was infatuated with the woman. And Malachi had thrown them together.

He really was an idiot. He could only hope that his gut feeling was correct, that Ava didn’t feel for Rhys the same way she felt for him. They had none of the electricity that charged the air between her and Malachi. When Ava gave Rhys’s shoulder a friendly jab, Malachi tried to hide his smug expression.

The restaurant was bustling that night, but Malachi nodded to a waiter he recognized and they were shown to a private balcony looking out over the town. Low lights and candles flickered. It was an unmistakably romantic setting that he hoped would impress her.

It did.

“Oh! This is so beautiful. Look at that view!” Ava’s eyes glittered with delight as the waiter held her chair for her. Rhys gave him a dirty look.

The table where they were sitting was private enough that he knew they didn’t have to worry about being overheard, which let him relax as Rhys and Ava began chatting about Irin history in the region.

“You were born near here, weren’t you?” Ava asked him. “I’m sure it’s changed a lot over the years.

He smiled. “This area? No, but I remember visiting here with my father as a child. The cities change more, of course. Cappadocia can almost feel like a time capsule. I was born west of here. It’s still a very rural area. The village where I was born in is no longer there.”

Malachi thought he saw a troubled look filter across her face. He wondered if she was thinking about the Rending.

“I have many happy memories from that retreat and the one in Germany,” he added, hoping to ease her mind. “Both were wonderful places to grow up.”

Rhys distracted her with a joke about Malachi, and within moments, the troubled look left her face. He would have been resentful if he wasn’t so grateful.

Malachi watched them at dinner, trying to discover her feelings. It was clear she liked Rhys, but Malachi was still convinced that his and Ava’s connection was unique. It had to be. Even when he was young, he didn’t remember being drawn to one woman the way Ava drew him. Of course, he’d had his flirtations and even a few brief relationships with suitable Irina when he’d been young, but nothing like this. He could spend hours just watching the subtle play of emotions across her face.

They’d been eating for over an hour, and the wine had brought a flush to her cheeks, and then she asked the question.

“Hey guys, I’ve been wondering. There’s this phrase I hear repeated a lot in people’s minds. It sounds kind of like…Vasha—”

Rhys slapped a panicked hand over her mouth as Ava’s eyes widened. In the next second, it disappeared as Rhys’s arm was twisted away and shoved to the side. Malachi bared his teeth as Ava gasped.

“You do not silence her. Ever.”

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