TEN
After an hour of riding, the trees gave way to rolling green hills, lit by the fresh, early morning light.
After feeding her, Tempest had appeared fresh and ready for another journey. To her annoyance, Silas had smugly taken his freshly groomed and fed horse, Ember, from the stables. It seemed they had taken decent care of his horse, after all. Though she was not sorry for being cautious.
They passed a Waystone, standing like a large, stone doorway. Amelia looked at it mournfully, eyes passing over the carved runes on the side of the stone. Their broken Waystone chips sat uselessly in their bags.
“The outpost is a few hours’ ride ahead,” Silas called back over his shoulder, his breath misting in the air.
“Great,” Amelia responded loudly so he could hear her sarcasm, “a few hours’ worth of you pointing out every landmark along the way.”
Silas swivelled in his saddle to send her his signature charming grin. “I’ll have you know my geographical observations are both precise and interesting.”
Amelia didn’t respond as he turned back around. She did have to admit, for a place titled ‘ Shadowlands’ , it had no darkness to it that she could see. Amelia had travelled there a few times. Though with her focus on her work, she hadn’t spent much time appreciating the landscapes.
Now that she was forced to travel by horseback, Amelia surveyed the scenery with fresh appreciation. It was undeniably beautiful.
While she thought her homeland in the Luminara Hold was lovely, Amelia had to admit there was beauty here just the same, only in different ways.
The North was warm and sunny, while the South held a chill that set the grass sparkling in the early morning.
Her homeland was covered in bush and trees, the scenery flat and sprawling.
Here, it was mountainous and quite sparse of greenery beyond the lush blades of grass.
It made the view ahead stunning, some peaks rising so high that it held a dusting of white snow on the tops.
Amelia had never touched snow, so the sight was mesmerising.
She now understood all the times that Silas had spoken of his home in a reverent tone that a week ago she might have made fun of. There was nothing funny about the landscape around her, peaceful and doused with cool morning sun.
Amelia nudged Tempest to move quicker until she had caught up to Silas. They trotted side by side for a moment in silence, though he sent her a questioning look at her nearness.
“How much snow do you get down here,” she asked, curiosity winning over.
“Ah,” he said with a grin, “so now you want my observations?”
Amelia shrugged, eyeing the snow-capped peaks in the far distance.
“It snows almost everywhere in the colder months,” he answered, pulling on Ember’s reins to shift them left towards a split in the path ahead.
Tempest followed the change in direction seamlessly.
“It’s pretty much a requirement in each house to have a working Stormglass,” Silas continued in a conversational tone, “so you get some warning before a snowstorm. They can be fierce and last for days.”
Amelia stared at him wonderingly, picturing the glittering white scenery. “Wow, that must be a sight.”
He chuckled. “A sight, yes. Snow can be lovely, and fun in youth. But it can also be dangerous and frustrating.” When Amelia didn’t answer, he glanced over and caught her questioning look.
“It can snow you indoors for days, cause chills that can be life-threatening, or result in ice that has you toppling like a baby gazelle learning to walk. I once broke my arm falling in the ice while I was playing outside.”
Amelia couldn’t help it. She laughed.
Silas sent her a look. “Oh, is that funny?”
A tiny, inelegant snort left her and she clapped a hand over her mouth. Silas’ face split into a surprised grin.
“My my, Winslow, you truly are a sadistic little thing.”
She shook her head, trying to contain her laughter. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t laugh at the broken bone,” she said with a final, breathless laugh. “It’s just that I’ve always thought of you as irritatingly graceful, and I genuinely believed you had never tripped or fallen in your life.”
Silas’ brows rose high towards his hairline. “You’re joking?”
Amelia shrugged. “Nope.”
He breathed out his own small laugh and looked away. “I didn’t know you thought of me at all,” Silas muttered, almost too low for her to hear. But she had heard.
Amelia wondered at the note of bitterness beneath the odd statement. She chose not to respond, so they lapsed into silence.
She let Tempest fall slightly back again and trailed behind, Silas taking the lead. After another hour of riding across muddy pathways and through mountain passes, Amelia had begun to shiver.
“Finley,” she called ahead, “I think a break is in order, my limbs are going to freeze in place back here.”
Silas pulled on his reins, and steered Ember off the path towards a small clearing. Amelia followed gratefully before sliding off Tempest. She landed on achy and numb legs with a groan.
She tried to encourage the blood back into her limbs but couldn’t stifle another moan as the feeling of stabbing needles erupted. Silas looked over at her, fingers pausing at his saddlebag. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Amelia rubbed at her thighs. “Just a bit sore and frozen.”
He sighed quietly and pulled something from a bag. Silas strode over to her and held his hand out, a thin grey jumper hanging from his fingers. Amelia eyed it before staring up at him.
“What?” she asked stupidly.
Silas raised a brow and moved the offering closer to her. Amelia reached out and took it from him uncertainly.
“Being from the north, I figure you aren’t used to the concept of layering to keep warm,” Silas explained and nodded towards the grey material. “It’s light but quite warm once it holds your body heat. Put it on under your jacket and you should manage better.”
He walked back to his horse while she held it, the material soft and warm against her fingers.
Amelia squinted over to Silas, his side to her as he dug around in his saddlebag.
Sceptical of the kindness, she scrutinised him in a way she never would have before.
A piece of his blonde hair fell to the centre of his forehead, and he reached up to nudge it away, only for it to fall right back and brush against his eyelashes.
His hands re-buckled the strap of his saddlebag, and she watched the way his long fingers moved deftly to tighten the strap with ease.
Something clenched in her stomach, her lips parting with an unsteady inhale as she realised what she was doing.
Was she… admiring him?
Silas turned his head, catching her stare.
Amelia turned away quickly, his jumper held to her chest.
What is wrong with you?
She could only blame the bond.
Amelia didn’t have a lot of time or patience in her life to bother dealing with things like men or meeting someone she could be interested in.
As a twenty-seven-year-old woman, she knew this was an oddity that set her apart.
She mostly enjoyed little company but her own and trusted so few except her own mind.
Standing there, experiencing the strange surge of attraction towards this man, tickled a spot in her brain that sought some kind of human contact. It was a part of her, so dormant and ignored that batted against a cage of loneliness Amelia had long ago come to accept.
Did she sometimes yearn for someone who might bring her a rush of excitement? Who might cause a building sense of tension inside her that she couldn’t wait to find a release for?
Sure.
That’s why, on the very rare occasion, Amelia had found someone to take back home for one night to let out that overwhelming feeling of lust that one can experience.
It didn’t happen to her often, her brain so focused on what she wanted to achieve in her career.
But she was still human. Still a woman who longed to be touched, to be desired.
But Silas?
That was not normal for her.
She shrugged off her jacket, shivering all the while, and pulled on the grey jumper. Jacket back on, she could already feel the extra layer of warmth that it offered, even if it was several sizes too big and the hem fell past her backside.
Amelia kept her back to Silas, embarrassed by her scrutiny of him, something which she had never done in all the years they had known each other.
She reached out to give Tempest a caress across her mane.
Then the scent hit her. Amelia’s hand stilled, the smell from his jumper hitting her nose with the force of a punch to the stomach.
It smelled… good .
There was the sharp bite of leather with a faint trace of parchment, speaking of the long hours he spent riding or researching. Then there was the deeper, warmer scent of him, something that seemed uniquely Silas, familiar yet infuriatingly distracting.
Amelia didn’t even know how she could possibly recognise his scent, but then flashes of being pressed up against him over the past few days entered her mind and she sighed with concern.
She did her jacket up until the last button was fastened, right underneath her chin, hoping to keep the scent encased away.
Amelia didn’t need this ridiculous bond to distract her in such a way.
Because it was the bond. Making the sight and scent of him suddenly compelling, right?
Right.
She heard the crinkle of a wrapper and turned, seeing Silas moving about Ember to check each strap, giving his horse a few pats as he went. A granola bar was in his other hand while he chewed distractedly.
Amelia cleared her throat. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”
Silas gave Ember a final pat to her backside and looked over at her. “Are you going to eat something?”
She shook her head. “Not very hungry.”
He pulled something out of his pocket and threw it to her. Amelia caught it, the crinkle of a similar granola bar in her hand.
“You should eat,” he urged. “Riding for hours strains the muscles, and you’ll need fuel, even the less-nutritional kind.”