Forged by Magic (Falling for Fables, #1)(26)

A low, simmering anger swept through me. Fisting my hands, I took a step toward him. “Are you threatening her?”

He tsked. “She was the one threatening me.”

“Stay away from Daella.”

Gregor shook his head. “You know she’s one of Isveig’s murks, don’t you? Surely her ass isn’t sweet enough to make you forget that, although…” His eyes drifted toward the dance floor, and an eager glint lit his golden eyes. “I did ask for Freya to gift me with a new lover. Interesting how the lass showed up right in time for Midsummer.”

“I said stay away from her.” My hand went to my dagger hilt. “And if you make me say it a third time, you’ll sorely regret it.”

Tension curdled the air between us. He stared at me, and I stared at him, and I couldn’t be sure which way this would end. He’d either back down, or I’d make my move. Gregor had been here for a few years longer than I had, but at the end of the day, I protected this island. I’d gladly protect it from him, if need be.

After a long, excruciating moment, he loosed a breath and stepped back. “Speak of the fucking devil.” And then he wandered off.

A body collided into me before I could turn, but somehow I knew—I felt—it was her. I turned and caught her arms just in time. Her knees buckled, and her flushed face aimed for the ground. A hiss went through the air as I held her up, pulling her against my chest.

“Think I drank. Too much,” she slurred as she looked up at me with bleary eyes.

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You downed two pints in the space of ten minutes when you’ve never had a drink before.”

She nodded. “In hindsight. Bad idea.”

“Let’s get you home.”

“Mmmm. Far. Legs no work.”

A pause. “I’ll carry you.”

“What?”

“Don’t overreact.” Before she could try to talk me out of it, I looped my arms under her legs and hauled her from the ground. Her head dropped against my chest, and she sighed.

“Embarrassing.”

“Don’t be. It happens to everyone at least once.”

“Not you, I bet.”

“You’d be surprised.”

She lifted her head for a moment to pin her narrowed gaze on me. “But. Grouchy and brooding.”

Shaking my head, I carried her away from the dance floor and toward the road that led back to my shop. The laughter and music and buzz of conversation faded into a dull roar, and shadows crept around the corners of the buildings to replace the lantern light. Daella relaxed into me, closing her eyes.

I carried her up the steps and through the door, and then went straight to the bedroom. When I lowered her onto the bed after pulling back the quilt, she grabbed my hand. Steam whorled between us.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

My heart clenched. “You’re welcome, Daella.”

Almost instantly, she fell asleep. I pulled the covers across her body, and then grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen. I tried not to think too much on what I’d done—that I’d spent my evening looking after someone who worked for the enemy, and that I didn’t regret a single moment of it.

In fact, for the first time in a very long while, I didn’t spend my midnight hours on the roof glaring at the stars. I went straight to the sofa, and I slept. Perhaps it was because I might have my enemy right where I wanted her.





12




DAELLA





M y head felt as if it had been sawed in half, like the logs I’d spent all yesterday collecting. Blearily, I cracked open my eyes and squinted up at the ceiling. Wooden beams crisscrossed overhead, illuminated by the orange glow spilling in through the windows. Ouch. The light hurt, too.

Last night…it had been achingly brief, thanks to my drinking a measly two pints too quickly. But my heart swelled when I thought of the market square. All those lanterns filling everyone’s faces with light. The bard and his silly song about Isveig. The taste of Lilia’s brew on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating. And Rivelin…

My heart beat a little faster. He’d carried me home and tucked me into bed, and there, on the bedside table, he’d left water.

The irritable, angry elf who hated everything I was and everything about where I came from. He’d taken care of me. Obviously, it hadn’t been an entirely selfless move. I was his assistant for the Games, and he needed my help to build the boat. If he’d left me there to down a few more pints, I’d be nothing short of useless for the entire day. I’d never been drunk myself, but I’d seen plenty of the castle denizens back in Fafnir vomiting up their lungs after a particularly raucous feast.

It was the only explanation that made sense—he didn’t want me to be a burden when he needed my help. Only hours earlier, he’d trapped me against a tree and put a dagger to my throat. And then he’d decided to carry me.

With a steadying breath, I threw aside the quilt and put my bare feet on the floor. I didn’t remember taking my shoes off last night. Had he done that, too? I blinked at the water on the bedside table, my mind struggling to make sense of the past few days. It all suddenly felt too real—too big to comprehend.

I’d spent so long in captivity or traipsing through the empire doing Isveig’s bidding that freedom always felt like an impossibility—even a brief moment of it. And now I was here in a strange land surrounded by strange people, and I’d never felt more light, like a heavy weight had finally fallen from my shoulders. I hadn’t seen it coming. I’d never even dreamed something like this could happen to me, and since being here, a part of me had tried to avoid thinking about what this could mean.