The Staff and the Blade: Irin Chronicles Book Four by Elizabeth Hunter Page A

throat. “I’m sure you’re tired, so—”
    “ Milá .” Damien sighed walked to her, pulling her into his arms and wrapping her up. “Thank you.”
    The relief was instant. Something tight and angry uncurled in her chest and she hugged him back. His rough chin scraped her cheek, and he took a deep breath as if inhaling her scent.
    “I’ll take the whisky to my room,” Henry said quietly. “Good night. Thank you, Sari. It’s lovely coming home to a warm house. That was very thoughtful.”
    “You’re welcome, Henry.”
    Damien didn’t let her go.
    “I didn’t like that you were gone so long,” Sari said. I didn’t like that you went without me. “What happened?”
    “Much blustering and puffing of chests. Be glad you missed it.”
    “Did they apologize?”
    “Not in so many words, but they were clearly chagrined that Kirsten was hurt. And afraid.”
    “Of Kirsten?”
    He drew back, smiling a little, and tucked a piece of her wild hair behind her ear. “No, Sari, not of Kirsten.”
    She blinked when he kissed her forehead. Oh . Him. They were afraid of Damien. Her dark, hooded warrior was rarely seen in human villages. The sight of him on horseback, visiting at dusk after a woman of his people had been attacked, must have filled them with dread.
    “Come,” he whispered. “Don’t go out into the cold tonight. Come with me.”
    Her body heated despite her exhaustion. “You said I needed to be sure.”
    The corner of his mouth turned up. “I’m too tired to bed you properly. Keep me warm. That’s all I want from you tonight.”
    Sleep with him? “In your bed?” It was an intimacy she’d shared with no man, not even her first lover.
    “Yes, in my bed.” He steered her down the hallway. “I’ll even wear a tunic if you like.”
    “Do you not normally? Even in winter?”
    He stopped and spoke against her ear. “I prefer nothing on my skin when I sleep. When I was at war, I had to sleep in armor.”
    “Oh.”
    “But I will make an exception for you.”
    Sari walked past him and into his room. She’d lit a small fire in the hearth there as well. “Wear what makes you comfortable, Damien. You know I will.” Sari unbuttoned her kirtle and slipped it off, leaving herself in the long chemise she wore against her skin. Without a backward glance, she slid under the covers of the bed and wished she’d thought to heat a few bricks to warm the linens.
    No matter. When Damien slipped in behind her, his chest was a furnace. He wrapped a bare arm around her waist and pulled her back into his chest.
    “Relax,” he said, pressing a kiss to the curve of her neck. “Just sleep, Sari.”
    “I don’t know if I can.”
    “Have you never shared a bed before?”
    “Only with my sister.”
    “Hmmm.” His hum held a satisfied note as his chest rose and fell in a deep breath. “Sleep. And dream of me.”
    It should have been impossible, but she did.

    They were in the field where he first kissed her, but the sun wasn’t shining as it had been. The moon was full and the hills rose in black waves around them as the night wind rustled the barley.
    He stood alone in the center of the field, staring down at his outstretched hands.
    She stood in front of him, but he did not see her.
    “What do you see?”
    “Blood.” He spoke and the wind ceased. “So much blood.”
    She curled her long fingers around his and lifted his hands to her mouth.
    “No.” He tried to pull away, but she held on. “Don’t.”
    She kissed them, and he fell to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his head to her belly.
    “Love me.” His voice was no plea. He commanded, even from his knees. “Love me, milá .”
    “I do.”
    ※

    She woke. The night was pitch-black save for the glowing coals in the hearth, but Sari felt no cold. Damien rested at her back, breathing deeply, his arms still tight around her.
    Love me.
    I do.
    Oh, she did. So deeply it scared her. For the first time, Sari lowered her