Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 702(@200wpm)___ 562(@250wpm)___ 468(@300wpm)
Hawk sucks the clam from its shell, and I grin when he shakes at the flavor spreading in his mouth.
“What? Not to your liking?”
“It’s so… fizzy. I never had anything quite like that,” he tells me before grabbing one of the legs of the roast bird and tearing it off.
Two musicians choose this moment to start playing in the corner, and I flinch when the whole inn shakes with the thumping of feet as the guests stomp with approval. I’m shocked to see my Hawk jump up and down to join them, but then again, this is not the palace, and actions that would have made one the laughing stock at court seem perfectly acceptable in this tavern.
Maybe I actually like not being judged for enjoying myself.
“Oh, and this tastes just like that chicken we had at the gas station!”
I bite into the crispy skin and grin at him. “It does! What was it… thyme? That’s what it’s called?”
Hawk laughs. “They used a herb from my world? How luxurious! Wait, you’ve got some grease—” he leans in and wipes my chin with his sleeve. It’s so ridiculous to be doing this in public, but I don’t even mind anymore.
I stroke Hawk’s clean-shaven cheek. “Thank you. I need to be presentable for my husband.”
Hawk stalls and leans into my touch. “You know when I find you most presentable? Naked,” he says with a grin, then drops the bone remaining in his hand into a bucket, and before I can stop him, wipes his hands on the tablecloth. My first thought is that I’ll need to teach him many things once we’re back at court, but when he grins and takes a goblet of cherin for each of us, my initial embarrassment fades. He is altering his whole life for me. It’s only fair I don’t force him into conventions he doesn’t seem to care for.
“Is it wrong of me to also await our wedding night with bated breath?” I ask since the music is so loud I doubt anyone could overhear us.
My companion is satisfied with that answer and wiggles his brows before handing me my cup and knocking his against it. “Our wedding night and every other night to come,” he says and guides me to the wall, where he can so easily entrap me with his firm body. I know the others are staring at this blatant display of desire, but I don’t care enough to push him away.
Let them see that I am an object of lust for this amazing man. That I don’t need to be taller or have wider shoulders to make him wild for me.
“I want to get drunk. And dance. And act as if all those people are my personal friends. And then I’ll take you next door. You think you’ll be able to keep your voice in?” he teases, whispering in my ear.
I drink from my cup, and I have to admit that it’s some intensely potent cherin. Then again, maybe this drink always bites the tongue and the back of the throat. I wouldn’t know, since Mother forbade me from consuming liquor due to my weak constitution. But she isn’t here, and this is my wedding. Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself? I’m back from banishment, and I have a Dark Companion whose shadow is so endless it will be spoken of in legends. I can’t even begin to imagine the things we may achieve together.
“Maybe I won’t, maybe I’ll need your hand on my mouth.” I meet his gaze with my heart beating to the rhythm of the fast melody around us. “For now, let’s make your dream come true.” I say and pull him toward the dancing crowd.
A tall elf with two long dark braids and a scar on his cheek steps in our way.
“I challenge you to arm wrestling,” he says, and I know what this is about as soon as I spot two women giggling over cups of wine.
Hawk inhales, ready to agree, but he stalls and shoots me a glance, only saying yes once I give him a shallow nod. It makes me so happy to know he considers us a team. By the time he sits at the corner table and slams the challenger’s hand down, winning the weaponless duel, I cheer louder than anyone else. He wins the next four matches, and then we end up getting our ears pierced, as local tradition dictates.
The earrings are a pair of small silver tears, which might not be suitable for a royal and his Dark Companion, but they do suit us. When Hawk lifts me up as he attempts to participate in a country dance, I don’t regret the bloodstain on my shirt, nor the throbbing in my earlobe.
The rich, sweet cherin flows in my veins, making me flush when my Companion, my husband, squeezes me tightly and twirls in the middle of the room.