Page 13 of Forgiving a Fae Warrior

Sylvie cut him a sideways look and rolled her eyes. “I can tell you’re not yourself. Rest. It will help. Besides, I rested earlier today. I’d wager you haven’t.”

Galen set his jaw, ready to argue.

“Do it for me,” she continued quickly.

The request slipped right between his ribs and planted itself in his heart.

“Then I can rest later while you take watch, and I won’t have to worry about you falling asleep on me.” She winked.

Galen huffed a breath through his nose. “Like I would.”

“Did you forget our training already? Always be prepared. Take precautions. Don’t make foolish assumptions.” She wagged a finger, whispering the last part in a deep, gruff voice that could only be an impression of Ambrose.

“What if I have?” he teased.

She rolled her eyes again. “You’re better than that. The Galen I know would never slack off on his duties.”

Just betray his king, his friend, a little voice whispered in the back of his mind. All the humor died from his expression.

“Sleep.” Sylvie pointed at the ground. “Or at least try to.”

“Fine,” he mumbled before digging around in his pack for the blanket Sylvie had thought to stow there for him. It wasn’t much, but it would be a better pillow than a rock.

Chapter 7

Sometimeinthemiddleof the dark hours of the night, Galen woke. For a blessed moment, he forgot where he was and why. A rock dug into his side, and all he could think was that he’d rolled out of bed and onto something. But then, he blinked against the darkness and saw Sylvie sitting just where he’d left her, peering out between the rocks, and everything rushed back. Galen barely stifled a groan as he pushed off the hard ground.

“You’re awake. Good,” Sylvie whispered.

“Any change?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. If there had been, she would have woken him.

“Nothing.” Sylvie turned away from the rocks to face him fully. “Though I did feel a strong presence earlier, from above.” She pointed toward the dark, cloud-strewn night sky.

“Sigurd?” Galen asked. Few in the Court of Air could summon wings like his to drift among the clouds. Even some Unseelie they’d spotted with winged features seemed to lack the ability to fly for more than short distances.

“Possibly,” Sylvie replied.

He still searched for Wren then. Did he ever stop to sleep? To rest?

“He cares for her that much? This human, Wren?”

“Yes,” Galen replied. “I believe he truly does.”

Sylvie tsked and shook her head. “She must not know all of what he’s done.”

“All? No, I’m sure not. But she knows enough. I told her as much.”

She sat a little straighter. “And yet she bore his mark.”

Galen sighed. “She did.” Wren was smart, strong, and brave. Whatever she saw in the King of Air, he couldn’t quite understand. But somewhere within him, she’d found something to admire, to love possibly.

“Let’s switch.” Galen offered Sylvie the rolled-up blanket. “It’s your turn to rest.”

Quiet as they could, the two switched spots, though Sylvie didn’t lay down, just sat with the blanket in her lap next to Galen.

“You like Wren, right? Not just because she’s human, but something about her?” Sylvie asked.

“Not the way Sigurd does,” Galen replied quickly before Sylvie could get the wrong idea. “I met her in the competition. I wanted to be free of my vow to Sigurd, and that was the fastest way I could think to do it. She wanted something similar, to go home.” From the corner of his eye, he saw Sylvie nod along. Galen turned toward her. “Actually, she reminded me a lot of you.”

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