Secrets and Surprises
WREN
“Where are you taking me?” Gabriel asks curiously, fingers laced through mine as I lead him through the camp.
It’s the middle of the day, and other than a few people hurriedly going about their business, we’re all alone.
That’s probably because most of the rebels are busy and the children are all in school, but I’m sure the intimidating black panther walking on the Hunter’s other side is a contributing factor.
The ground is soft from the melting snow, and our feet sink into it as we walk. White patches remain under trees and in shadowy spots, but the season is shifting, and winter is giving way to spring.
A week has passed since Gabriel asked for my forgiveness. The days are growing longer, and the snow is disappearing. The air shimmers above our heads, a constant reminder of the net shielding us from the king. Beyond it, the sky is clear, and the suns are bright, promising a warm day ahead.
I glance over my shoulder and smile wryly. “It’s a secret.”
Gabriel lifts a brow. “Does it have something to do with whatever you and Skyler were whispering about this morning after my workout?”
My cheeks heat as I remember the way Gabriel’s muscles rippled while he subjected himself to his daily exercise regime—otherwise known as self-inflicted torture.
This morning after he and I shared a simple breakfast of hardboiled eggs and bread, I had perched in a chair and watched through the cabin window as Gabriel pushed his body to its physical limits.
He’d gone through a series of push-ups, sit-ups, crunches, and other stretches I didn’t know the names for but seemed designed to inflict pain.
His shirt had been soaked with sweat in no time, clinging to his muscles, and yet, he had pressed onwards.
I’d been happy to watch from inside, petting Mist. After all, seeing as how I already bear a Mark fating me to die, my life is fucked-up enough as it is.
As far as I’m concerned, there is no reason to ever subject myself to the abomination some people call exercise.
I’ve already resumed my self-defense training with Gabriel—suns forbid I undertake even more physical activities.
This morning, as has been our routine all week, Skyler stopped by while Gabriel was torturing himself. She brought some tea, which we shared while chatting.
Our topics of conversation varied day to day, from our love lives (she’d squealed when I told her about Gabriel getting on his knees for me, and in return, she’d shared about Annika, a fellow guard she was seeing) to our families and the way we’d grown up.
It’s been nice getting to know Skyler, and our chats have quickly become one of my favorite parts of the day.
“Wren?” Gabriel prods my side, and I remember his question.
I run my fingers down the fabric of my sky-blue dress, a garment that had been gifted to me by one of the rebel women after the battle.
“No, that was about something . . . different,” I say, choosing my words carefully.
Before Skyler left this morning, I asked her to put in a request to the healers for me. I hadn’t seen them lately, with how busy Gabriel and I had been. I’d been blushing furiously then, and based on the heat in my cheeks, I’m certain the same thing is happening now.
Not for the first time, I wish I weren’t so gods-damned awkward.
“Are you keeping a secret from me, Wren?” Gabriel asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.
“Possibly.” I definitely am.
He chuckles, and the air between us is light. Easy, even. Things have been this way all week. I’ve slept in Gabriel’s arms every night—he seems back to his normal self—and I haven’t had a single nightmare. It should surprise me I know what the Hunter’s “normal” is, but it doesn’t.
I’m starting to think nothing about him will surprise me anymore.
“Can you give me a hint?”
“Skyler is looking into getting something for me, that’s all.” And I really, really hope she can find it.
Gabriel releases my hand, wrapping his arm around me and holding me to his side. “Will I ever get to find out what it is?”
I glance at him, my lips kicking up. “Maybe. If you’re good.”
He squeezes my shoulder. “All right, little bird. Keep your secrets. I trust you.”
My chest warms, and I lean against him as our destination draws near, barely believing how far he and I have come in a single season. I hated him when the winter began, and now . . .
Well, I’m not sure how to classify what I feel for him, but I can confidently say it isn’t hate.
In some ways, hating Gabriel had been easier. My feelings had been more clear-cut, and I could wrap my mind around them. No one would blame me for hating him—after all, he was hunting me.
But now, my stomach flip-flops when he calls me Birdie, warmth runs through me when he touches me, and fire burns inside me when he kisses me.
All these point towards something that is definitely not hatred. Especially when I consider the not inconsequential fact that he’s brought me to climax every night this week, without asking for anything in return . . .
No, I certainly don’t hate him.
I’m saved from having to put a label on my feelings when our destination appears through the trees.
Set on the other side of camp from our cabin, the small building is nestled in a grove of evergreens.
The early springtime air is filled with the scent of cedar and new growth, and my step is lively as we walk up the rickety steps and onto the porch.
“We’re here,” I announce, reaching into my pocket and withdrawing the silver key Skyler gave me this morning.
I unlock the door, but before I can head inside, Gabriel sidesteps me.
“Let me check it out, Wren,” he says, brushing past me.
I raise a brow at his back. The building is a glorified storage closet, smaller than our cabin and filled with shelves and boxes, not to mention that it was locked until a moment ago.
I don’t think there’s a hidden danger, but Gabriel’s concern is sweet, and who am I to deny him the chance to look around?
Crouching, I scratch Mist behind the ears and murmur quiet praises as we wait for her master’s return. We’re not left waiting for long—Gabriel is back a minute later.
“It’s clear,” he says.
I would’ve been shocked if he said otherwise.
“Thank you for checking.” I ruffle Mist’s head. “Stay here, okay?”
The panther looks up with silver eyes, brow raised as if she’s saying Where else would I go?
So cheeky. It’s no wonder Gabriel loves her so much.
I brush my nose against Mist’s and grin. “Good kitty.” Straightening, I pull the door closed behind me and meet my Hunter’s gaze. “It was sweet of you to make sure the cabin was empty.”
“Sweet?” Gabriel ambles towards me. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me ‘sweet,’ little bird.”
A smile teases on the edge of my mouth. “Haven’t they?”
“No.”
“Well, you know what they say. There’s a first time for everything.” I grin up at him, basking in his amusement, before turning in a circle, taking in the space.
Two windows are on opposite sides of the cabin, letting in shards of sunlight.
Dust waltzes in the air, tumbling to the ground.
A bench sits against one wall, along with an empty chair.
The rest of the space is taken up by wooden shelves filled with lidded crates, knickknacks, and trinkets.
Some of the boxes are small and can be tucked under an arm, while a few are big enough to require two people to carry them.
I run my finger along the edge of the nearest shelf, and dust billows into the air. I cough into my sleeve.
Gabriel raises a brow. “As much as I enjoy getting to spend time with you, what are we doing here, Wren?”
I had a whole speech planned, but suddenly, the words don’t seem right. “Well, as you know, the winter is ending.”
He taps his fingers on his thigh. “Yes, I noticed.”
“And we’ve done a lot of reading.” So much that I’m not sure I can look at another book for a very long time.
“That’s true.” Gabriel steps towards me, trailing his thumb down my cheek. Gods, it’s hard to think when he does things like that. “But why are we here?”
“I thought this would be a good place to—”
A shadow darkens the window, and the low sound of voices comes from outside.
Gabriel stiffens, and his shoulders tense. He drops his hand and turns quickly, blocking my view of the door with his body.
“Stay behind me, little bird,” he says sternly.
It’s not like I have much of a choice. Between the Hunter at my front and the shelves at my back, I’m trapped.
“Okay, but—”
“We’ll talk about it after,” he says, his tone leaving no room for discussion.
Gone is the lighthearted man from earlier, and in his place is the Hunter.
His fists are curled at his sides, his stance is wide, and tension is radiating off him.
Being on this side of things feels different.
Something inside me is thrilled at the knowledge that Gabriel is willing to fight for me, even if it’s not always necessary.
Another shadow passes by the window, and then the doorknob turns. A growl rumbles through Gabriel, reminding me of the noises Mist makes. The sound is a threat and a warning, bundled together.
Worried about what the Hunter might do before I can explain, I place my hand on his arm. “Gabe, I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me, but it’s unnecessary.”
“It is necessary,” he says without looking away from the door.
“No, it’s not.” I duck out from under his arm as the door opens and two men walk inside.
One, pale and gangly, has turquoise hair in a half bun, while the other has warm brown skin and a stockier build. Both wear tunics and pants, the regular garb of the community here.
The Hunter’s hand falls to the hilt of his sword, the threat clear, and I hurriedly add, “You see, I asked them to meet us here.”
Well, technically, Skyler asked them, but she was passing on the request for me.
Gabriel’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
I point to the man on our left, the pale orange glow coming from beneath the collar of his black tunic contrasting with his turquoise hair.
“This is Soren, and he’s here with his . . .” My voice trails off. Actually, I’m not sure what their connection is.
“My adopted brother, Jasper,” Soren fills in.
That makes sense, considering that the men don’t look anything alike. Jasper scratches his neck. “My family raised Soren after . . . Well, he needed somewhere to go, and we were able to take him in.”
The brothers exchange a look, and I’m sure there’s more to the story, but I don’t want to pry.
The air is tense, and Gabriel is still looking at the brothers like he might hurt them. Which definitely wouldn’t bode well for the reason I asked them here.
I step towards them, hoping to relieve the tension.
“It’s nice to officially meet you”—I extend my hand, shaking Jasper’s, then Soren’s—“in a quiet environment, without our lives being threatened.”
The brothers had been present on the day of the battle, but everything had been too chaotic for proper introductions, and then after . . .
Well, I haven’t had time to meet all the Marked Ones since.
“Same.” Soren stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “Skyler mentioned you were hoping we’d help you.”
“Yes, that’s right.” Even though I asked for this meeting, I can’t help but feel nervous. “I saw the way the two of you fought the king’s soldiers as if your magic was an extension of your limbs. I was wondering if you could show me how our power works.”
With a lot of focus or high emotion, I’m able to draw on my flames, but I want to learn more control.
Right now, my magic feels like an unpredictable force—one I want to tame.
When I explained what I was looking for, Skyler suggested we come here.
The building is isolated enough that if something goes wrong, no one else should get hurt.
I can feel the weight of eyes on me, and I look up to find Gabriel studying me. His posture is relaxed, and his gaze gleams with a mixture of approval and pride. No one has ever looked at me like that before—like I’m his whole world.
I slide my hand into his, letting his touch ground me before I turn back to the brothers. “So, what do you say? Will you teach me how to use my magic? How to control it?”
Soren and Jasper glance at each other, seeming to communicate silently as only those who have known each other for a long time can do. Jasper lifts a brow, and Soren blows out a breath.
He turns to me. “We’ll do it.”
“We’d be happy to,” his brother adds. “Besides, a friend of Sky’s is a friend of ours.”
My chest warms, and I grin, thanking them.
Soren inclines his head. “I’d ask to see your Mark to make sure everything’s in order, but obviously that’s unnecessary.”
“It’s not really discreet, is it?” I rub my forehead with my free hand. “Sometimes, I feel like this is the bane of my existence. Where are yours?” My lips slant into a frown. “Unless . . . Is that allowed? Can I ask? I haven’t been around many Gi . . . Blessed in my life.”
It no longer feels right to use the term Given for people like me. Not only because of what I now know about our history, but also because the term is linked to all the lies that have been spread. The murders that have been perpetrated to enhance the king’s power.
No, the more space I can put between myself and that word, the better.
“You can ask. It’s a personal choice if someone wants to share their Mark, but the request isn’t rude.” Jasper tugs up the right corner of his tunic, revealing a dark blue swirl on his hip. “This is mine.”
Soren lowers his shirt collar, wordlessly revealing an orange flame etched upon his collarbone.
“Nice,” I say, unsure about how to appropriately react to other peoples’ Marks. “Easy to hide.”
I wish mine was so conveniently located.
The brothers chuckle, and Jasper nods. “Yeah. Now, about this training. I assume we should start with the basics?”
“Absolutely. I want to learn as much as I can.”
“Great.” Soren takes the empty chair and gestures to the bench. “Take a seat, then. Class is in session.”