Page 132 of The Dark Mage

“I can’t breathe with my damned stuffed nose,” he muttered.

She rested her face against his chest, smiling despite herself.

Fael took a moment to gather himself while Ren’wyn nestled deeper, relishing his warmth.

She ached from what he had been and the pain he carried from his choices.What he had done made her stomach turn, but his honesty—his deep, soul-deep regret—only reinforced the man he was striving to become.

Her chest ached with love andhope.

Eventually, she sat up.Their eyesmet.

Fael’s gaze brimmed with sadness and pain—but alsolove.

Her heart squeezed.

There was so much hope and possibility in their future.

His expression softened, and he refilled their wine glasses.

“You’ve told me so much about Peria,” he said, voice lighter now.“Is there anything else interesting you’ve heard about Anduan?”

“There are a number of rare flowers I’d love to see or collect,” she said, smiling as she sipped her wine, grateful for the shift in conversation—the reminder that all could bewell.

“Would you like to see something?”she asked suddenly, feeling inexplicablyshy.

“Always,” he replied.

Rooting through the top of her pack, she pulled out a worn, leather-bound journal.

Ren’wyn opened it on her lap, and Fael leaned in close, peering over her shoulder.

Each page contained precise, detailed illustrations of plants.Some leaves or flowers were drawn separately on the following pages, rendered with careful strokes.Tiny, meticulous handwriting filled the margins, noting habitats and instructions for use.The parchment had been oiled for water resistance.

She handed him the journal, and he leafed through it with wide-eyed wonder.

A quiet, reverent sound escaped him, making her heart stutter.

“It’s not much,” she murmured.“I’d love to add more, and I wish I was better at drawing, but I’m not much of an artist—”

“This is beautiful, Ren’wyn,” Fael interrupted, his voice soft with awe.“You are a wonder.You never give yourself enough credit.”

The compliment teased a heated blush to her cheeks.

“I started it at Spyre,” she explained, smoothing a hand over the worn leather cover.“All those years, I hoped for a different future—one where I’d get the chance to travel and learn, to see new places.Maybe even find love.”She looked up at him as she spoke, filled with unspoken emotion.

Understanding flickered in Fael’s hazel eyes.He pulled her close, setting the journal carefully on the side table beside the oil lamp.Then, after a moment, he picked it back up and carried it to herpack.

She chuckled, and he frowned in confusion.

“Worried you’ll set it on fire?”she teased.

“This journal isveryimportant,” he groused.“I’m treating it with respect.I don’t think I deserve your teasing.”

He made a face of exaggerated indignation, which only made Ren’wyn laugh harder.

Fael leapt onto the bed and grabbed her around the waist, drawing a surprised squeal from her before she dissolved into breathless laughter.

“Your laugh is its own kind of magic,” he murmured, pressing her back against the mattress.“Like rushing water, birdsong, and sunlight through leaves.”