Page 34 of The Frost Witch (The Covenants of Velora #1)

“Where have you left your little witch?” Despite the query, Alize’s tone was bored, each word punctuated by the rhythmic thwap of a blade being sharpened across a leather strop.

“Somewhere safe,” Garrick bit out. I was coming to recognize his tones of voice, I realized. Especially the annoyed ones.

Alize kept sharpening. “Learned to set wards, have you?”

No response.

The magic of ward-weaving had left Velora along with the fae.

But Garrick was not from Velora. Garrick the Red had only been a name of note here for the past fifteen, perhaps twenty, years.

I’d never heard the name of his land of origin.

Perhaps he came from a place still rife with magic, where the fae still ruled on high.

Maybe he’d bartered for some of their secrets before coming to seek his fortune in Velora.

“You went to all the trouble to track me up the mountain. I assume you have something to say or do other than glower at me.”

“You know what I am going to say.” This tone was similar to the one he’d used when urging me to eat. I pictured his face in my mind—jaw locked, a slight flicker in the vein by his temple.

“Then save us both the time, and yourself the wasted exertion, and say something else.” Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. She repeated the movement again and again. How much sharpening could her fancy fae-made blade really need? Unless she was honing more than one.

“Walk away.”

Alize sighed. “Sticking with that, are we?”

“I am not telling you to return to Balar Shan, Ali,” Garrick said. Heavy footsteps moved through the snow. He approached her as he spoke. “I know what awaits you there. I understand your reticence to return. But you can walk away from the Seven Gates without going back.”

For a time, my mind added.

Even as another part of me screamed.

She was more than an acquaintance. If the content of his words had not revealed it, the emotion behind them did. That was a tone of voice Garrick had never directed at me.

Metal sang in the air, the unmistakable sound of a blade leaving its sheath. “I pledged my life to the Seven Gates, just as you did. I cannot walk away.”

Whatever emotion lined Garrick’s voice, there was no mistaking the anger in Alize’s. It had not ended well between them.

Had Garrick entered the temple to protect her? Had he come to Velora… and fallen in love with a fae? I dug my fingernails into the tree bark that held me upright. No wonder he was so surly and annoyed with me. He’d come for a beautiful fae female and ended up saddled with a witch.

The tree behind me shook violently, suddenly, a sharp thud reverberating through the forest and echoing off of the sheer stone cliffs that rose overhead. Someone had driven a blade deep into the wood.

“You cannot be here,” Garrick growled behind me.

The blood in my veins turned to ice.

Following him had been a mistake. He may be human, but he was still Garrick the fucking Red. He’d killed witches and fae alike, if the stories were true. The longer I knew him, the less I doubted. He could not kill me for following him and learning his weakness, but he could make my life torture?—

“It is my birthright!” Alize yelled.

Garrick was not the only one whose impenetrable composure had cracked.

The ice in my veins thawed. They did not know I was there.

It was past time to go. I needed a significant head start on Garrick, plus time to cover my tracks. I did not need to hear any more of their lovers’ spat. I slipped away as silently as I’d arrived, frost power cushioning my footsteps.

Garrick had banked the fire before he left. The embers still glowed to welcome me back just under an hour later.

My power buzzed beneath my skin, but my muscles nearly gave out at the sight of my cloak and bedroll.

Exhaustion was my only excuse. My eyes were already half closed as I dropped down into my makeshift bed. That was the only way I could have failed to realize.

“Eavesdropping is rude, Koryn.”

Dark God fucking spare me. How had Garrick beaten me back?

How had I failed to notice him passing me in the snow?

I’d underestimated his skill and cleverness, taken in by the sarcasm and ever-present smirk.

They were facets of his personality, but they conveniently obscured the other parts.

The quiet observation, the random acts of caregiving.

He’d noticed me lost in my own thoughts and tried to draw me out through fighting.

He’d given me his cloak when I shivered and cooked for me when he noticed I had not eaten.

He’d risked my life, and his own by extension, to trek up the mountain and try to convince Alize to abandon the gates for her own safety.

I was not the only beneficiary of his attention.

“So is abandoning your bonded in the middle of the woods on a mountainside so you can go argue with your fae lover.” As usual, the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them. But I was too fucking tired and hungry to moderate myself.

The expression on Garrick’s face was worth the embarrassment from what those words revealed.

For one second, his face went totally blank.

Devoid of feeling, maybe even understanding.

Then his brows shot up—panic, maybe. The firelight reflected the turquoise as he pushed to sit up from where he’d reclined on the other side of the fire.

Then that mysterious glow was gone, and his features settled into a smirk I wanted to slap right off of his handsome face.

Or kiss.

One or the other.

One was definitely more disastrous than the other. Especially given the quarrel I’d just witnessed.

I’d been a burden my whole life. First, as the youngest sister always tagging behind my elders.

Then, as the youngest, most intractable member of my coven.

And now, bonded to Garrick the Red. Continent-famous bounty hunter.

Lover of a fae female who looked like something out of a faerietale.

Who represented everything I hated in the world.

“You were perfectly safe.”

“I do not need you to be responsible for my safety.” I dug down into my furs, pulling them over my shoulder and rolling away. Even if for a few hours, I’d allowed myself to think that maybe, just maybe, I was worth protecting.

“So I am learning. But that doesn’t mean I do not want to be.”

My head jerked back over my shoulder, certain I’d imagined that last sentence. But Garrick had already laid back down, his back to the fire and to me.