Page 78 of Ironling
Slumping into a seat, Hakon raked his hands through his hair, no doubt spreading soot and grime all over himself. He didn’t care. She hadn’t come today and it was already early evening; she never came too late, not since the first time.
Another day without her, without knowing.
Fates, how did anyone do this? Being lovesick made it sound almost romantic, poetic. This sinking dread and apathy in all else was nothing of the sort.
He’d no desire to go to the dining hall for dinner—nor even to find some scraps in the kitchen. He wasn’t hungry, he could barely sleep. His mind merely kept showing him memories of her, soft and willing on that bale, and how he’d denied her.
Was ever a male so stupid?
He tried reassuring himself that she was busy with her duties. With Lord Merrick gone, full authority over the entire demesne now rested with Aislinn, and it wasn’t a responsibility she tooklightly. He loved that she was devoted to her land and people—and hated it, too.
She would be a wonderful Liege Darrow, but she could be happier as my mate. I’ll make sure of it.
That was, if he ever saw her again.
Fates, what if she didn’t remember what they’d done, what he’d said. His sore fingers went cold with horror at the thought. He didn’t think she’d been too badly affected by the mead—just on the right side of drunk. But then, she was so much smaller than him. Could it be that she didn’t remember his profession and promise of more if she came to him?
Hakon opened and closed his hands nervously, not knowing what to do with the realization.
He had to try again. There was nothing else for it and no turning back now.
Nothing was promised in this world, not a mate, not happiness. Hakon knew this well, knew the dangers of the mate-bond and how it consumed all around it. The bond didn’t care what it left in its wake as it sought fulfillment.
He couldn’t be a mindless beast, lost to his love and desire for her. He had to be smart.
For once, he wanted the mate-bond to do right by him.
Standing so suddenly he startled Wülf, Hakon hurried to collect his bathing sheet and loose linen braies. First, he needed a bath. He wouldn’t woo his lady love dirty from the forge.
Second…well, he hoped he’d have that figured out by the time he returned from the baths. At least, a better plan than scaling the wall outside her balcony.
Aislinn lay awake late into the night, restless yet again. She hadn’t slept well since the wedding, and her exhaustion was beginning to get the better of her. Emotions tumbled like leaves in a gale through her, one quicker than the last, giving her no time to make sense of any of them other thanfrustration.
Grumbling, she rearranged her pillows, wishing her mind would just go quiet long enough to fall asleep. Instead, it ran rampant through everything she needed to do the following day and everything she hadn’t accomplished today and whether Connor Brádaigh would have any luck locating Jerrod and if she could ever forgive Brenna and and and—
Whether she had the courage to return to the smithy.
She wanted to. Oh, she wanted to.
Falling into her duties and preparing for her father’s departure had been an easy distraction. However, now that he was gone with half their company of knights for the south, work was the only distraction.
And it wasn’t the kind she enjoyed.
Aislinn struggled with the realization that she didn’t want to distract herself. She didn’t want duties. She wanted her blacksmith—and to know if he meant everything he’d said to her at the wedding.
Fates, I hope he did.
She’d never hoped for something more.
Aislinn would never go on the adventures Sorcha did with her mate nor get to go to academy like Maeve Brádaigh. She’d neverexperienced the freedoms even Jerrod did.
She couldn’t leave Dundúran, her father, for so long. She couldn’t be selfish. At least not in that.
I want to be selfish about him, though.
And yet…
What if it’s wonderful but then all goes wrong?
