Page 49 of The Frost Witch (The Covenants of Velora #1)

He held a stack of flattened stones, the altars that Varian had referred to. Four were already in place in even circular intervals around the fire in the small clearing where Varian and Tomin were making camp.

“What is… is that a dragon?” His throat slid as he said the last word, as if he was not sure he should have said it at all.

Isanara snapped her wings closed, the sound echoing through the trees.

I rolled my eyes again, but they paused halfway to the sky.

Tomin jumped backward, the stones in his hands toppling.

They slid to the ground, vertical missiles.

One hit his foot before bouncing to the ground.

He hopped sideways, biting down on a cry, only to slip on one of the others and tumble in the opposite direction.

A gargling sound filtered up from Isanara’s throat. It sounded suspiciously like the dragon version of laughter.

A thousand sarcastic comments jumped to my own mind, but after how I’d treated Tomin, I forced myself to swallow them down.

Varian ignored her acolyte entirely. I was not surprised, exactly.

The first time we’d met at the Mercy Gate, Tomin had rushed to perform the Oath of Atonement with one eye fixed over his shoulder, watching for her.

The relationship between priestess and acolyte could hardly be characterized as warm.

But the complete lack of regard was also unnerving.

Tomin had been an acolyte for nearly twenty years.

I’d assumed that meant he’d forged relationships within the temple.

But maybe he was as lonely as me.

Which made my treatment of him even more abominable.

Varian finally lifted her gaze away from Isanara. “You have taken a familiar.”

“As if I had any choice in the matter.”

“You did not, and that is precisely how it is meant to be.” Isanara did not snap her wings again, but she did that strange serpentine thing with her head as she returned Varian’s stare in force.

“Yes,” I said aloud.

“That is a dragon,” Tomin exhaled, his voice still disbelieving. He’d collected the altar stones he’d dropped, but unlike Varian, who held her ground, he’d retreated several steps.

“The beasts that roam this continent are older than some of the gods themselves,” the priestess said. She made no move to come closer. “You need not fear them, Tomin, only respect them.”

Then she bowed her head to Isanara.

My eyebrows shot up. Beside me, Garrick made a low hum in his throat.

Varian merely turned back to her fire, withdrawing a small leather pouch from within her cloak and sprinkling herbs over the flames. Another pulse of frankincense and palmarosa filled the air.

“You are welcome to share our evening meal and make camp here,” she said without looking up again.

Tomin managed to tear his eyes away from Isanara, but when they landed on me, they clouded instantly. He turned back to placing the altar stones.

Garrick moved again, angling his back so that neither Varian nor Tomin could see his face as he leaned in to speak.

His mouth lingered near my temple as he spoke. “You decide.”

I snorted. “Trusting my judgment? I knew humans had short memories, but?—”

“What is your point, witch?” My blood surged in my veins. My movement had brought his mouth even closer. I could feel the caress of his lips against the fine hairs on my skin.

“Mere weeks ago you called me na?ve.” My breath caught in my throat, but I managed to get the words out.

Garrick’s low chuckle knocked loose the strands of hair that I’d tucked behind my ear. “And you will never let me forget it.”

“The privileges of being female,” I sassed back. “And having the memory of an immortal.” The sass covered the panic that bloomed in my stomach at being given yet another choice to make, another opportunity to direct events. Another chance to fuck everything up.

He drew back enough that he could look down into my eyes. My body mourned the loss of him, of the closeness. But his open hand brushed against my fisted one. My fingers uncurled instantly.

“You do not trust the priestess,” he breathed, his voice pitching even lower than before.

I swallowed, keeping my eyes on his instead of darting over his shoulder. It was easier than it should have been. “Do you?”

The corner of his too-luscious lips curved. “I do not trust anyone.”

I rolled my eyes. “She helped me. At the Mercy Gate, first to hide my coven mark and then when I lost control of my power during the procession.”

The half-moon scar beside his eye crinkled. “And I thought Seraxa had truly blessed us all. How dare you spoil my faith.” I recalled his low chuckle when I’d extinguished all of the candles and torches in the temple in a single breath.

I scraped my teeth over my lower lip. “I don’t know why.”

Garrick did not ask for clarification. “Could it have been an act of mercy?”

It was the easiest explanation. Varian had made every demonstration of being a devout priestess of the Seven Gods.

But now it was my turn to smirk up at him. “You don’t believe that, and neither do I.”

The clover green flecks around his pupil seemed to shimmer, contrasting sharply against the outer ring of cerulean. But then he nodded. “Then we go.”

My tongue darted out between my lips. A shaft of evening light broke through the trees above, gilding the green in Garrick’s eyes to a shade so bright it almost glowed. His fingers curved around mine.

“No, we stay,” I said. “We find out more about her.”

We’d drifted closer together as we spoke.

Our hands were the only part that touched, but a long exhale was all that it would take to bring our bodies together.

His cinnamon and wine scent had long since faded from the cloak he’d given me, but here it was renewed again by how dangerously close we stood.

Dangerously close to giving in to the pull between us.

Nothing like the instant connection I’d felt to Isanara.

This current between Garrick and me was not rooted in power, but something else. Something that felt just as dangerous.

Something that I wanted just as much.

“You won’t find out much about anyone else if you’re busy staring into each other’s eyes.”

I jerked back, the little dragon weaving between my legs as I did. It was a miracle from the gods that we did not go tumbling as Tomin had moments before.

Tomin, who jerked his gaze away the instant my eyes found him. He nudged the last altar stone into place and then gave me his back.

I managed not to cringe, but cool power swirled in my veins.

“We will stay,” I announced.

“Good. Maybe they have something I can actually eat.”