Page 9 of The Thief’s Lord (Catkin Trilogy #3)

There, cradled in the shadows, secrets flitted in the night.

I spoke of my earliest memories as a child.

He shared stories of his family. I talked about the gods, the tales I had heard and treasured.

Gareth spoke about the Battle of Marrasol and a lost love.

A Munni. Gareth dreamed of a world that I had barely allowed myself to consider—a world where Sunna and Munni lived and worked alongside one another in mutual respect and unity.

It was a dream that the King shared with Lord Gareth and many others, supposedly.

I had thought the King’s proclamations some passing fancy, a symptom of his infatuation with his Munni guard.

The dream that drove the young king, I realized, ran deeper.

That night, I stopped trying to run away.

Instead of getting caught up in a never-ending spiral of thoughts, I released my fears and allowed myself to simply be.

Whatever this was, I would embrace it. After all, it could not last forever, and what damage that had been done, had been done.

Mourn and Shade hovered on the edges of my mind, but they could not pierce the web of contentment that now lured me in.

Gareth is a good tom , I mused. He could have hurt me. He could have tortured me. He could have given me to his soldiers. Responsibility weighs on him, but he has never wavered in holding to his convictions.

As the days passed by, I found myself staring at him more and more as though I were were closer to solving the enigma.

I traced the lines of his jaw, the curve of those lips, and the arch of his nose more times than I would like to admit, wishing that I could touch him once more.

When he stripped to the waist to cut some wood for our fire, I could scarcely tear my eyes away.

He glanced my way, caught me ogling the curves of his ass in his breeches, and flicked his tail lazily while simultaneously raising a single eyebrow in silent question. A smirk flitted across his face.

“Enjoying the show, Little Mouse?”

“I-I’m not little,” I stammered. My face was on fire.

“Mhm…”

My ears flicked down at the quiet taunt in his satisfied hum.

Crack! The wood split apart. I nearly jumped when his hand landed on my shoulder.

He bent over me to toss a piece of wood into the fire, causing a spray of red sparks to rise.

At the same time, my skin prickled beneath his warm touch.

I clenched my eyes closed as sparks lit up my mind’s eye.

“The fish done yet?” asked Gareth. His breath on my ears made them flick. “Do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” I said gruffly.

Forcing my eyes open, I looked down at the fish I had slit open and prepared for grilling. They were almost done. Silver scales covered my fingers.

“It’s practically done,” I added, pushing myself to my feet unsteadily, grabbing the knife, and heading to the nearby stream to wash up.

After washing my hands, I splashed my face with the freezing spring water in an effort to cool down.

Returning to the fire, I avoided Gareth’s gaze.

However, I could not ignore him. Seated as we were on the log, I felt every movement, every breath as though my entire body were attuned to his presence.

I glanced up at him. In the falling dusk, his light tan skin had turned gold under the glow of the fire.

“You stopped trying to run,” Gareth noted absently. “Perhaps you will change your mind?”

“Maybe it’s just despair,” I noted mildly. “You lock me up at night still, though.”

“A tom has to sleep.”

“Hm.” I gazed down at the fish that now gently sizzled over the fire on the iron grating of the grill Gareth had set up. “You can’t keep me here forever.”

“I wish I could.” There was a shade of sadness in his words that felt heavier than it should.

“I want to keep you safe, Dorset. Sounds like madness, I know, given that you are… well, you are an enemy to the crown, but I sense that you are unhappy with your lot in life. If you let me help you, perhaps we could change what your future could look like.”

“My future?” I stared at him wide-eyed and laughed cynically.

“My future was destroyed the day you captured me. Even if you somehow… eradicated most of the Night Blades, there would always be a Blade out there, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. And if I joined you… How would I be perceived by your kind?” I wrapped my arms around my knees.

“My future is nothing but darkness, as far as I can see.”

Have faith, little one…

“I can only imagine what you face, what crossroads lies before you,” Gareth said slowly, “but I do know that sometimes the most important decisions—the ones that change your life—are the hardest. They are the riskiest. But when you follow what is right, what you know is best, things have a way of sorting themselves out. Especially when you are not alone.”

“I am alone.” I turned my head away from the fire and gazed into the falling shadows of dusk, refusing to meet his gaze. “I barely know you. You hardly count as a friend.”

“Friend or no,” Gareth said, “I wish to help you. Here.”

Warm fingers nudged at my hand. I glanced down as he placed a silver ring inset with black stone.

“What is this?”

“My signet.” Gareth closed my fingers over it, pressing the ring into the palm of my hand. “May it provide you with a measure of protection in the future, whatever you choose.”

I stared down at my lap where the dark stone now glimmered in the fire’s orange-red light. Etched into the broad stone, the Wright crest faintly glimmered. A seal. I now held one of the seals of the Wright family. Turning it over, I could hardly breathe from the shock.

“A promise, whatever happens,” Gareth said. “Keep it safe.”

“Gareth.” I glanced at him, suddenly clutching the ring as though it were a lifeline. I didn’t know how helpful this would actually be, but the thought, the concern and care behind the action, warmed my heart. I found myself smiling. “Thank you.”