I felt a glimmer of Col’s discomfort through our bond. I suppose that’s why I like you too, I said.

That’s the only reason?

There might be one or two more.

Col wore his power with ease and no true arrogance. Confidence, yes. His humility was just part of who he was, despite his upbringing and despite the people surrounding him.

Or perhaps because of them.

I had rarely known the kind of acceptance Col and his friends had shown me. Except for Flint and his wife, anyone who found out my status shunned me for it. Or tried to kill me.

We lapsed into silence for the rest of the evening, and I thought we were going to camp among the rocks and cliffs, but we turned the corner and came upon a small, high grove. It was full of trees turned white, but not with snow. Grieving trees.

Killian dismounted as soon as we entered the trees, and the rest of us followed. I couldn’t help wondering why so many of them were here.

“What happened here? Was it an ancient battle?”

“No,” Col said somberly. “It’s where my mother was buried, along with the men who tried to defend her. Her allies snuck her body out of the castle and brought her here after she died. So that The Harrow could no longer touch her.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I grabbed Col’s hand and squeezed it. I thought about my family’s graves, scattered in distant lands, and the bog that I would likely never visit again.

The emptiness that I’d tried to ignore all day pushed in on me, a void of feeling that was almost as bad as the grief and sorrow that had threatened to drown me earlier in the day.

It will come in waves, Col said. Let it consume your thoughts as much as you want. It’s the only way to survive.

I leaned into Col, shoulder-to-shoulder. He was right. I had already experienced enough loss to understand the strange workings of grief. Only now, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to survive. Only Col’s warmth at my side gave me a reason to keep going, a reminder that I still had a purpose on the earth, and I would pursue it or die trying.

As if sensing my dark mood, or perhaps hearing my dark thoughts, Col placed a kiss on my forehead and held me until it passed.

A tether of pain linked Col and me as we made camp, protected from the wind that had begun to howl and the snowfall that was rapidly turning into a storm.

We ate a cold supper from dwindling, stale rations, but a fire was allowed. The trees, mountains, and the storm would protect us from unfriendly eyes. I sat next to Col, listening to the men’s quiet banter and conversation, the sound of old friends catching up as if they’d never been apart.

I’d only ever had that with Flint. The pain of his loss still ached in my heart, and I hoped that one day when this was over, that I would have time to properly mourn him and my family. I was glad Col had such friends around him, though.

Finally, Magnus took a risk and began singing a bawdy tavern song. Despite what he had claimed earlier in the day, he had a fine, deep singing voice.

The monster hunter kept his voice low, and though I turned bright red at the lyrics, I laughed along with everyone else when he finished.

“Do you sing as well, Killian?” I asked, wiping tears from my eyes.

The mage laughed humorlessly. “Truly, no one wants to hear that, my lady. Magnus is bad enough.” He didn’t follow up, but instead seemed to drift away in thought, his dark gaze staring into the fire while everyone else talked around him.

Everyone had been tired from the day’s journey, but the mood had lifted around the fire and no one seemed to want to go to sleep.

Personally, I attributed the contented feeling to sitting so close to Col. I put my hand on top of his, running my thumb up and down his knuckles. Col squeezed my fingers and then pulled my hand into his lap and smiled at me. I thought I would never tire of looking into those hazel eyes, of those flecks of gold the firelight always seemed to catch, making them sparkle. And it made my heart melt.

And other parts.

I couldn’t help myself from smiling.

What? Col asked.

Five days ago, if I’d known I was on my way farther north than I’d ever been, with you, I would have brought a warm blanket.

Col laughed. Then he put his arm around me and kissed my forehead. Then, the tip of my nose, and then my lips. My heart was racing, and I ached to be closer to him, to feel his flesh against mine. I thought my body would burst into flames at this proximity.

“Is the cloak not warm enough?” he asked, pressing his lips to the shell of my ear.