assumption.”
“ What about my coat then? Would you take it?”
Why is he so persistent? Does he have to leave one of his things with me as a way to prove I’m doing something wrong to one of the local law officers? Or is this just the way foreign warlocks behave? At least, I’m assuming he’s a foreigner. “Truly, I’m fine.”
“But you’re shivering.”
The cold had left my mind until he pointed it out, but I really am shivering. I don’t remember the last time it was this cold. And sometime while we’ve been talking, my rapid pace has slowed. Though the season is starting to warm, at any time spring could turn even worse than it is now. Tonight. What am I going to do? Whatever it is, I can at least keep from completely freezing.
“I believe I could accept it.”
His grin morphs into a winning one, yet still manages to stay small and warm. It’s a smile like I’ve never seen before. He hands me his umbrella before taking his coat off. I try to keep the umbrella over him, keeping the rain from dripping on him. It’s heavier than I expect, and my arm wavers. The umbrella tilts to the side. Before I can right it, the water pooling on it falls, splashing on his head, drenching him.
I brace myself for a hex that never comes. Perhaps the mistake didn't bother him as much as I expected? Who knows what this strange man thinks. At least his coat was already off and stretched out toward me so it's still fairly dry? Perfect way to treat the person saving me from freezing to death.
“ Sorry.” Did I just apologize to a warlock? One day I’m hexing a warlock, the next I’m apologizing to another. It’s unprecedented. And not to be repeated.
He laughs. “Didn’t really want to stay dry anyway. Rain is refreshing.”
Refreshingly cold. Such an odd male.
He leans away from me and shakes the water from his hair, droplets spotting on the strange framed windows in front of his eyes. The short, dark locks glisten over those now water-sparkled eyes. It’s hard to concentrate as he helps me into his coat, first one sleeve then, after switching the umbrella to his now free hand, the other.
As he reaches out to take the umbrella back from me, our hands brush. I snatch my hand away and pull the coat tighter. It’s warm from being wrapped around him and smells faintly of something sweet and spicy. My shivering abates somewhat only to be replaced by my stomach growling again.
His brows raise again. I glance away, willing my cheeks not to pick this moment to heat and give me away.
“I will be on my way then, miss. Unless there’s something else I can help with?”
Still having a hard time believing the only reason he stopped me was to give his coat, I shake my head.
“Very well then,” he says as if he expected my silent response, and turns.
As he starts to walk away, I call out, “But your coat. How will I return it?”
“Keep it,” he calls over his shoulder and rounds a building.
Keep it? As in, it belongs to me now? I pull it tighter around me savoring its warmth but also trying to decipher what it means to have something of my own. Not just something father purchased, and is letting me use, but something truly mine. Perhaps my first thoughts of him giving it to me to use as some sort of leverage with a law officer were correct. It doesn’t make sense though. A warlock doesn’t need such evidence. The fact I’m out here all alone and claiming to not have an owner is enough for punishment to be dealt.
So then why give me his coat?
Chapter Six
A while later, much past time for lunch, I’m still wandering through the town. I’ve become so turned about; I’m not sure how far I am from where the man gave me his coat. At least I’m warmer, but it only does so much good. What I need is some sort of information and help from someone I can trust. Food, shelter, communication with home. But there’s nothing.
There’s been no tarnished to attempt to get help from. They’re the
“ What about my coat then? Would you take it?”
Why is he so persistent? Does he have to leave one of his things with me as a way to prove I’m doing something wrong to one of the local law officers? Or is this just the way foreign warlocks behave? At least, I’m assuming he’s a foreigner. “Truly, I’m fine.”
“But you’re shivering.”
The cold had left my mind until he pointed it out, but I really am shivering. I don’t remember the last time it was this cold. And sometime while we’ve been talking, my rapid pace has slowed. Though the season is starting to warm, at any time spring could turn even worse than it is now. Tonight. What am I going to do? Whatever it is, I can at least keep from completely freezing.
“I believe I could accept it.”
His grin morphs into a winning one, yet still manages to stay small and warm. It’s a smile like I’ve never seen before. He hands me his umbrella before taking his coat off. I try to keep the umbrella over him, keeping the rain from dripping on him. It’s heavier than I expect, and my arm wavers. The umbrella tilts to the side. Before I can right it, the water pooling on it falls, splashing on his head, drenching him.
I brace myself for a hex that never comes. Perhaps the mistake didn't bother him as much as I expected? Who knows what this strange man thinks. At least his coat was already off and stretched out toward me so it's still fairly dry? Perfect way to treat the person saving me from freezing to death.
“ Sorry.” Did I just apologize to a warlock? One day I’m hexing a warlock, the next I’m apologizing to another. It’s unprecedented. And not to be repeated.
He laughs. “Didn’t really want to stay dry anyway. Rain is refreshing.”
Refreshingly cold. Such an odd male.
He leans away from me and shakes the water from his hair, droplets spotting on the strange framed windows in front of his eyes. The short, dark locks glisten over those now water-sparkled eyes. It’s hard to concentrate as he helps me into his coat, first one sleeve then, after switching the umbrella to his now free hand, the other.
As he reaches out to take the umbrella back from me, our hands brush. I snatch my hand away and pull the coat tighter. It’s warm from being wrapped around him and smells faintly of something sweet and spicy. My shivering abates somewhat only to be replaced by my stomach growling again.
His brows raise again. I glance away, willing my cheeks not to pick this moment to heat and give me away.
“I will be on my way then, miss. Unless there’s something else I can help with?”
Still having a hard time believing the only reason he stopped me was to give his coat, I shake my head.
“Very well then,” he says as if he expected my silent response, and turns.
As he starts to walk away, I call out, “But your coat. How will I return it?”
“Keep it,” he calls over his shoulder and rounds a building.
Keep it? As in, it belongs to me now? I pull it tighter around me savoring its warmth but also trying to decipher what it means to have something of my own. Not just something father purchased, and is letting me use, but something truly mine. Perhaps my first thoughts of him giving it to me to use as some sort of leverage with a law officer were correct. It doesn’t make sense though. A warlock doesn’t need such evidence. The fact I’m out here all alone and claiming to not have an owner is enough for punishment to be dealt.
So then why give me his coat?
Chapter Six
A while later, much past time for lunch, I’m still wandering through the town. I’ve become so turned about; I’m not sure how far I am from where the man gave me his coat. At least I’m warmer, but it only does so much good. What I need is some sort of information and help from someone I can trust. Food, shelter, communication with home. But there’s nothing.
There’s been no tarnished to attempt to get help from. They’re the
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