Chapter 3
Although Gabriel’s efforts were enough to make the bricks inside the fireplace glow red from the heat, the wood refused to catch. Eventually, he ran out of breath and stared at the logs as if they’d betrayed him.
“Was that there before?” Raven pointed at a brass plaque fastened to the hearth.
Gabriel’s lips peeled back from his teeth. “No, it was not.” He moved closer and read the inscription aloud. “To kindle true, speak the truth.”
Raven giggled. “Clever cabin. The fire will ignite only if we speak the truth to one another. A truth from the heart, I presume.” She shivered against a sudden burst of cold that blasted down the chimney and blew back her black hair.
“Yes, yes, I believe I have it right. The cabin would like us to share the truths weighing on our hearts.”
“Here’s a truth,” Gabriel snarled. “I hate it here, and I want to go back to the palace.”
Another gust of air powered down the chimney, sending a plume of ash ballooning in Gabriel’s direction, and covering him in soot. He wiped a hand over each eye and then across his mouth and Raven couldn’t hold back her laughter. “You look like a smiley face.”
“Raven!”
“Don’t bark at me, dragon. I’m not responsible.” With a snap of her fingers, she used her magic to clean Gabriel up, sending the ash back into the fireplace.
“Thank you,” Gabriel grumbled.
With a deep breath, Raven said, “I’ll go first. I miss you. You’ve allowed your royal duties to take priority for too long and, I think, it’s caused you to neglect your family. To neglect… me.” A spark flickered but fizzled out just as fast. “There, that’s the type of truth it wants. Now you.”
“I haven’t been neglecting you,” he growled. “I am king. I have responsibilities. The kingdom must come first, same as always.”
Raven frowned. “It doesn’t feel the same as always. It feels like you refuse to allow anyone else to help you. Charlie, Nathaniel, or Marius could and would lend a hand if you asked them, but you seem afraid to give them the reins, even temporarily. It’s almost as if you don’t trust them.”
“I trust them, Raven. And I do allow them to handle things sometimes. Why, we just had that dinner date at the Silver Sunset. You ordered the roast.”
“That was almost three months ago, and you left during dessert to check in on Charlie. She was fine, by the way.”
“Three months?” He squinted, looking powerfully bewildered.
“We haven’t even… you know… in just as long.” Her gaze flicked to the bed.
“Not true,” he said defensively. “We’ve slept in the same bed every night.”
“Slept being the operative word.” She crossed her arms again.
“Impossible. Perhaps you simply don’t remember.”
She tipped her head, her lips curling with her arched brow.
“I suppose that’s worse,” he mumbled. “It appears I owe you an apology.”
“I don’t need an apology. I need the truth. Quickly, before we freeze to death.” The temperature in the cabin had dropped so abruptly that she shivered and tucked her hands into her armpits.
Gabriel groaned and closed his eyes for what seemed to Raven like a full ten minutes.
Although it was probably much shorter. With her lips turning blue, a minute was a very long time.
When he opened them again, he looked at the fireplace and said, “I don’t want to hand off my responsibilities to anyone else.
I’m afraid of what might happen if I do. ”
Whoomf, the fire blazed to life, filling the cabin with warmth. Raven rubbed her hands together in front of the flames. “What are you afraid will happen?” she asked.
Gabriel sniffed and stood. “I’m afraid we’ll starve to death if we don’t find some food in this mountain-forsaken place.”
Frustrated with his lack of answer, Raven made her way into the small kitchen and opened the cabinets. “There’s only one bowl and one spoon.”
He gave a low groan and lifted the lid off the pot on the stove. Steam curled off what appeared to be soup. “At least we’ve been provided for. We’ll take turns. You can eat first.” He filled the bowl and handed it back to her.
Raven carried her food to the table, but when she tried to sit down, the chair lurched away from her. She barely caught herself in time to avoid a miserable fall. Steadying herself, she plunked the bowl down. “The cabin would like you to eat first.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. It couldn’t possibly—” As soon as Gabriel was close enough, the chair veered around the table and caught him behind the knees. He dropped onto the seat beside her, the legs scraping the wood floor.
“As I was saying.”
“It makes no sense. Why would the cabin want me to eat first?”
“Ahhhh!” The rug yanked out from under Raven’s feet and sent her flying into Gabriel’s lap. His laugh when he caught her warmed her from the inside out. It had been months since she’d heard him laugh like that. Lately, he always seemed … burdened.
“I think the cabin wants us to eat together, little witch,” he said, his nose brushing the side of hers.
With his face so close, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek and how her body fit easily into his.
This is how it was supposed to be, like they were made for each other.
But then, of course, they were. He was her mate.
The other half of her soul. Which made it her duty to understand his earlier comment.
It was up to her to help Gabriel through whatever was ailing him.
She rested her forehead against his. “Gabriel, what did you mean before, when you said you were afraid of what might happen?”
He kissed the question from her lips, kissed her so deeply, she almost forgot about her question. She dug her fingers into his hair and repositioned herself on his lap when the evidence of his desire for her became apparent. But a niggle at the back of her mind had her drawing back. “Gabriel…”
“It’s nothing.”
“If you’re avoiding talking about it, it’s something!”
“The cabin wants us to eat, Raven. Do not upset the cabin.” He made a show of taking a bite and then held a spoonful to her lips as if she were a child. It did smell good, and it would be a shame to let it get cold. She caved and took a bite. Mmmm.
Feeding each other proved romantic, and the food delicious, especially considering a sentient building was responsible for the dish, but when they finished and could no longer blame the chewing and swallowing for their silence, an unsettling quiet unraveled between them.
“Gabriel, what is it? What is driving you to work yourself to the bone like this?”
He winked at her, starting in on the buttons of his tunic. “Don’t ruin the moment. Let’s go to bed.”
“There is no moment, Gabriel. The moment is waiting for you to be honest with me.”
But he only finished undressing and slipped into the small bathroom. “There’s a bathtub,” he said. “Do you want to take a bath?”
“Will the tub hold your head underwater until you agree to talk to me?”
He closed the door, leaving Raven alone and more concerned than ever.