Page 95 of Under Gorse and Stone
I lie for a while, listening to his soft breaths, and even when I fall asleep, he follows me into my dreams—his golden eyes and red-blond hair, and his warm hand guiding me through the mist. I think we're back in that strange corridor halfway between the Mer court and freedom, and I hold on tighter, but then he’s gone, and I’m cold. I cry out for him, but all I hear is the roar of the sea and the beating of his wings.
When I awake, the desolation is still in my heart. Warm light floods the room, and I’m alone in his big bed.
Chapter Fourteen
When I walk into the kitchen, I find Sigurd leaning against the sink and staring out of the big window at the cold, grey sky. His expression is hard to read. I think I see sadness, but also a hint of determination and a resolution that I’d like to know more about.
“Looking for the sunshine?” I say, and he spins to face me.
His face immediately lights up when he sees me, his golden eyes warm, and his full lips crease into a smile. He holds out his arms, and I walk straight into them, wrapping my arms around his slender waist. He squeezes me tight, and I make a pleased sound I couldn’t help if I wanted to.
He kisses my temple, nosing amongst the strands of hair. “You are alright, my Cary?”
I realise what he’s alluding to, and my cheeks burn, but I make myself say steadily, “Never better.” It’s the truth. I feel relaxed, limber, and sleek, as if my body is finally how it should be. I no longer feel awkward in my skin—just an overwhelming sense of lightness and surety.
“’Tis Christmas Eve,” he says.
“And I have to go home.”
He pushes me back slightly. “I would that you do not go,elsklingen, min, but I know you must.” He glances over at my bag sitting by the door and grimaces. “I want to ask you to stay.”
I gasp as joy floods through me. “Really? I wouldlovethat.”
“But I cannot ask it.”
My smile fades as his own expression remains… guilty?
“What have you done?” I say slowly.
He takes my hand and ushers me into a chair at the big table. I trace my finger over the worn oak as I watch him bustle about the kitchen. He sets a cup of tea in front of me, and I grab his hand. “Tell me. No more time wasting.”
His sigh is so dramatically tragic that I want to smile, but I resist and point at the chair opposite me. “Sit down and tell me.”
He obeys, running a hand through his hair and dislodging the thick ponytail so that strands fall around his sharp-boned face. He’s wearing jeans and a black turtleneck jumper and looks far more like a uni student than a centuries-old dragon.
“Oh, Cary. I have beenbad,” he says in a mournful voice.
I’d expect words like that to evoke dread, but instead, I just fight the urge to laugh. He’s such a big, gentle man that I know deep in my soul he wouldn’t hurt me. Not intentionally.
“Go on,” I say steadily.
He runs his finger along the table’s edge. He takes a deep breath, and the following words come out in a rush. “I made the car hire staff say that there were no cars available to you.”
I stare at him, unable to work out what he’s saying, and then realisation dawns. “When I was trying to go home?”
He nods miserably.
I bite my lip hard to hide a smile. “How?”
“I may have the ability to manipulate humans’ minds.” He grimaces.
“Have you done that to me?” I ask sharply. But I relax when I see the incredulity in his face.
“Nay,” he says immediately. “Never. It had been many centuries since I used that power, but I could never use it on you anyway.”
“But you did it to others.” I have a sudden thought. “You didn’t hurt them, did you?”
His eyes warm. “My Cary. Always a thought for other people. Nay. It was a gentle nudge, so that all the cars they had on their computers suddenly looked unavailable.”
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