Page 138 of Burn Her They Said
Lars nods, though it’s obvious my words have no power to influence whatever is happening. Or do I?
I close my eyes and send a wave of curiosity out past the carriage, then gasp once I latch on to something: fear and amusement.
“I think I just found him with my influence, and as far as I can tell, he’s amused.”
“What do you mean?” Lars’ voice betrays his fear, apparently building after the peace I shared with him.
“I sent my magic out to find them, and while there is fear present, there was also amusement.”
Varic sighs. “You shouldn’t be using so much of your magic.”
Lars leans forward as we collectively ignore Varic’s comment. “You’re sure it’s him? ‘Amusement’ isn’t typically an emotion I would attribute to Malin.”
I subdue a laugh. “Yes, I am quite familiar with his emotional signature.”
Lars seems to believe me as he relaxes his posture.
Cirrin, however, continues to bounce his leg, shaking the cushion beneath us. I set my hand on his knee as the heat only Varic brings creeps up and across my chest, searing a trail everywhere he observes my being.
“May I?”
“Sure,” Cirrin says.
I seek out his fear and absorb what I can when I’m launched to the side, and my shoulder slams into his ribs—the carriage then rights itself, shaking back and forth from the impact of whatever the fuck just slammed into us.
Malin’s voice grows closer, and we all freeze to try to hear what he’s yelling. I focus my magic on Cirrin’s emotions while drawing on the comfort he has brought me, feeling a genuine sense of gratitude for his compassion as well as his ability. I send him the same, helping to calm his anxiety when the latch slides and the door swings open.
We all stare at the door and yell, “Malin!”
“Sorry!” Malin braces his forearms before his chest, defending against Lars’ attack as he smacks the sorcerer anywhere he’s able to reach him.
“Explain,” Varic commands.
Malin sends Lars a look as he shows no signs of stopping.
“Enough!” Cirrin cries.
Malin nods to him in thanks, now that Lars finally pauses his assault. He swipes the long, dampened strands within the knot atop his head. Then his gaze pins Lars as he grabs hold of his wrist to pull him closer while grabbing the back of his neck with his opposite hand to press their foreheads together.
My cheeks heat with the intensity of their connection, so much so that I feel guilty for staring.
“Breathe, mei frent. I am here and unharmed. Please, breathe.”
Lars does as he says and pulls in a deep breath, then drops lower to plant a kiss on Malin’s knuckles. A small smile plays over Malin’s lips as he slowly releases his hold.
Fray strides to the open doorway, dark brows furrowed as he peeks into the cabin. “Are we ready to go?”
“No!” we all shout, with the exception of Drusilla, as she’s still left unconscious.
“Explain,” Varic repeats his command.
Lars reaches down to hold Malin’s hand, and I can’t help but smile when he kisses the back, especially with the way he turns to the side, seemingly to hide the action from Drusilla, who still appears to be sleeping. Though she has little reason to report their connection, since His Majesty seems far more concerned with keeping Varic and me from engaging in anything more intimate, despite the fact that it is forbidden for all of us.
“It’s nothing dangerous, so you don’t need to maintain that.” Malin separates from Lars to nod toward the force-shield.
Varic narrows his eyes and maintains the shield regardless.
“It was just snuffers,” Malin reports.
