Page 49 of The Blade in the Ashes
Everything in me clenched.
It had been a long time since someone had hugged me. Clay was probably the only person in the world that I even would have let hold me close, and, Gods, the feeling of being in another's arms was enough to cripple me.
“We may not have many more opportunities to find happiness, Iris,” he told me softly, pain and grief laced in his words.
“And what if my last opportunity has already passed me by?” The words poured out before I could stop them.
He pulled away, cupped my cheek, and gave me his kindest smile. “It hasn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’m seeing your opportunity standing right in front of us both. If I were you, I’d latch onto it whileyou still can.”
By the time I arrived at the stables, after taking a brief detour to check in with the other members of the Order before I left, Nikolai waited for me, seated atop a boulder tearing off pieces of a loaf of bread. His long hair was combed back and knotted at the base of his skull, but the morning sun still painted streaks of gold in the otherwise reddish sheen.
“You’re late.” He grumbled somewhat unhappily.
“And you’re impatient.”
Our horses were prepared too, properly saddled and tied off to a fence post, both shifting their weight and stomping their hooves as if they were more than ready to leave.
“Eager,” he amended, standing and offering me the rest of the bread, which I accepted with a grateful nod. There hadn’t been time for breakfast between packing and threatening to gut anyone who allowed harm to come to Clay in my absence.
“I’m merely eager to have your attention to myself for a few days.”
I rolled my eyes, moving towards the spotted mare I planned to claim as my own. She was a sturdy horse, cords of muscle visible under her coat, and intelligent based on the all-too-aware gleam in her eyes. I offered her my hand before moving to tie my pack onto her saddle.
“I will be focusing my attention on any threats, not on you, Nikolai.”
I ignored the way his full lips quirked.
I also ignored the way my stomach flipped as they did.
“Good.” He came to my side, extending a hand towards me. “I hold your skills in high regard; it would be terribly disappointing if you were easy to injure.”
That hand lingered in the space between us, an offering—both to help me mount my horse and for something far more meaningful.
For a moment, I actually allowed myself to consider taking it. I pictured the possibility of allowing myself to latch onto whatever happiness he might offer me in the darkness our world had become.
Then, I pushed aside the thought.
Loss and heartbreak always followed happiness like that.
I’d cared for Nikolai once before, and I’d had to say goodbye.
I’d loved Lorelai, and she’d died.
Temporary happiness wasn’t worth another heartbreak.
Turning away from his outstretched palm, I grasped onto the saddle, placed my foot into the stirrup, and pulled myself up on my own, feeling his eyes on my back as I did.
“So, where to?” I asked, rubbing my hands against the frost in the air.
Nikolai stared up at me for a long minute before turning towards his own horse. “Western archives. The librarian there is an expert of mythology and owes me a few favors.”
“Seems like a reasonable place to start.”
“I wasn’t asking for approval.”
