Page 28 of Vows of Sacrifice

She raised an eyebrow and half a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Even the moon?”

“Yes, for you, I might just have to unpluck it from its bed of stars.”

Ashana laughed. It was a pleasant, gentle sound.

“I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“This isn’t romance.”

I leaned forward so that I could delicately grasp her chin between my fingers and force her to look straight in my eyes:

“I am one of the sons of the dawn of time. The third. The fierce one. I can transform the moon into a shining pearl and set your engagement ring with it if it is my will.”

I knew what was happening. In my eyes now danced the flames of my power. The power of the ash dragon. Ashana opened her mouth, speechless.

“What the . . .” she murmured, unable to finish her sentence.

I leaned in further. At that moment, I was tormented by the powerful desire to kiss her, to unite my mouth with hers and feel her tongue.

“Magic is everywhere,” I repeated before releasing her and straightening up.

“Are you a sorcerer? Like your friend Paivrin?”

How could I explain it to her? It was too soon, but I knew that delaying this conversation wasn’t helping.

“Yes and no. It’s a family physical peculiarity. I’ll tell you about it when we’re settled in at Tarnton Palace.”

“What exactly will you be talking about?”

“In Tarnton,” I repeated.

The tone of my voice alone indicated that I didn’t wish to say more, and Ashana understood this. As soon as she finished her meal, I got up with the idea of accompanying her away from the soldiers so she could do what she had to do. Despite her rather vehement protests, she finally gave in: there was no way I was leaving her alone in this forest. Between the Abyss and its creatures, or the few nomads among the little people, there was plenty to frighten her.

I followed her. For a long time. Until she stopped and turned to me, red as a peony.

“You’re too close.”

Still, it took me a moment to understand.

“Ah.”

Then I drew my sword.

“Stay within earshot.”

Suddenly, I realized how helpless she was without someone capable of protecting her by her side. It was something we would need to work on to find a solution. I wanted my wife to be able to defend her own life if she ever faced danger. Mastery of a close-combat weapon, perhaps? For the bow was a noble art, certainly effective in a long distance attack, but insufficient in my eyes. Magic? Of course. Magic. It was obvious.

Magic could be powerful, destructive, unstoppable. If Ashana was indeed my flame, my stone, as Paivrin believed, magic flowed in her veins. It just needed to be awakened. I wasn’t the most gifted among us, unfortunately. Paivrin seemed the best person to mentor my wife. Or Kynnen. Only, I hadn’t heard from him in ages . . .

“Dovah!”

That cry was Ashana. My blood rushed to my veins and, on instinct, I charged through the forest in the direction of her voice. I was ready to rip to shreds anyone who dared harm her. I burst ferociously towards her, my expression surely transformed. But it was probably me who upset her more than the “things” that were attacking her.

Small creatures surrounded her. Little fairies and goblins amused themselves by tugging at her hair or dress. One cheeky fairy had even dared to stick its nose in her cleavage! I approached the rascal and gently grabbed him by his wings.

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