by Donna Grant
Most likely from the moment Leoma freed her from the Coven.
That was a significantly longer period of time than she let on. His admiration for the witch grew. He could only imagine what she had endured and suffered. Helena wasn’t one to complain, so he might never know specifics. But he could guess.
It took someone with a strong soul to still be standing. The fact that Helena wasn’t just standing but also wanted to fight said much about her.
He tried to make himself believe that was the only reason he couldn’t keep his eyes from her, but it was a lie. Her deep red tresses called to him like a beacon, and once he was ensnared by her beautiful green eyes, all he could think about was getting close to her.
Touching her. Feeling her.
“Welcome.”
Jarin was jerked from his licentious thoughts. He turned to find a witch with long, wavy, blond hair and smiling, blue eyes. He knew without being told that this was Edra. “Thank you for allowing us here.”
“You must be Jarin,” Edra said. “Between Malene, Leoma, Braith, Ravyn, and Carac, I feel as if I already know you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jarin saw Helena lean against one of the many trees surrounding the abbey. He didn’t wish to draw attention to her exhaustion, so he didn’t mention anything. But he shifted so that he could better see her.
The Hunter who brought them also eyed Helena before exchanging a look with Edra.
The witch turned to Helena with a smile. “I’m Edra. You are welcome to remain here for as long as you wish.”
Helena glanced at him before she bowed her head to Edra. “Thank you. My name is Helena.”
Edra’s eyes widened as she went to Helena and took her hands. “I have long wished for you to find us. We are very pleased to have you here.” Edra’s gaze swung to Jarin briefly before she moved closer to Helena to wrap an arm around her. “How does a hot bath sound?”
“Like Heaven,” Helena replied with a grateful smile.
Jarin watched the women walk away. Without having to be told, Edra realized what Helena needed. The bath would do wonders, as would a meal and more rest. He wanted Helena with him when he fought the Coven. Her strength hinted at her magic, which he couldn’t wait to see.
He suspected it would be glorious.
“I’d hoped to meet a warlock,” Synne said.
Valdr moved between Jarin and the Hunter. She cocked a brow at the wolf. Jarin moved his staff to his other hand. “Now you have. Synne is an unusual name.”
She shrugged, her amber eyes glancing away. “There is not much about my life that is normal.”
He jerked his chin to the bow. “You any good with that?”
Her gaze narrowed as she raised a brow and looked at his staff. “You any good with that?”
“The best,” he replied.
A small smile pulled at her lips. “Me, too.”
Jarin liked her immediately. He didn’t know if it was her boldness or her soul, or both, but within her, he saw a kindred spirit. Someone fighting not just for survival but also for their place in the world.
“Do you think we will get to see Blackglade?” Synne asked.
He shrugged, unaware of any such talk between Malene and Edra. “Why do you ask?”
“Malene told Edra that since she was able to come here, a visit to Blackglade was in order if we were to be allies.”
Jarin could well imagine Armir’s reaction. “If Malene said it would happen, then it will. She does not go back on her word.”
“That makes me like her even more.” Synne then turned on her heel and strode away without another word.
Jarin watched her before he let his gaze wander amid the buildings and over a vegetable garden. He heard the distant sound of water trickling, no doubt from a river.
“I think I stood in exactly that spot the first time I saw this place.”
He turned his head and spotted a man walking toward him with dark brown hair tied in a queue, and clever brown eyes. Jarin turned toward him as Andi landed on the tip of his staff.
“You must be Jarin,” the man said with a smile. Then he held out his arm. “I’m Radnar.”
Jarin clasped his arm and returned the smile. “You and Edra have made a good home here. Thank you for welcoming us.”
“Us?” Radnar asked with raised brows.
Jarin dropped his arm to his side. “I came across a witch. Helena.”
“Ah,” Radnar said with a nod of his head. “Leoma will be pleased with the news.”
“Are she and Braith here?”
Radnar sighed and shook his head. “After they were married, Braith took Leoma to his land. He knew the Coven would eventually come for the Blood Skull, and he wanted to protect this place so that it would remain a haven for those who need it.”
“I would have left, as well.”
“It is Braith who bade Carac join us. Braith said more would be coming to his keep. He’s building an army that will stand with us to fight the Coven.”
Jarin thought over Radnar’s words. “I assume you told Malene and Armir this?”
“Aye. Malene said the Varroki would join with us.”
“Good.” Jarin smiled. “Very good.”
Radnar looked around. “Did Edra take Helena?”
“The witch has been on the run from the Coven for some weeks,” Jarin explained. “I found her in a cave, exhausted and nearly to the point of starvation.”
“She will be looked after here. I assure you. And so will you.”
Jarin looked away. “I am used to being on my own.”
“I was too at one point. Things change. From what Armir and Malene told us, much is altering for your people.”
Jarin’s mind immediately went to Helena. He made a point of not touching her, but that was because he wanted it so badly. Just letting her hair run through his fingers had been enough to make his balls tighten with longing. “Aye. Change seems to be everywhere.”
“Helena will be occupied for some time, I’m sure. Come with me, and I’ll give you a tour of our home. You can also meet the others, and then we can eat.”
Jarin looked at his pets.
Radnar smiled. “They are welcome to come with you wherever you go.”
Jarin stroked a hand down Andi’s feathers. Her head swung to him, their eyes meeting. With a loud call, she flew over the abbey.
Radnar was true to his word. He took Jarin all over their compound. Jarin got to meet Berlaq, the barrel-chested, muscular blacksmith with a long, black beard and bald head. Berlaq was quiet, preferring the solitude of his workshop to anything else.
Jarin was greatly impressed with the detail the blacksmith put into each weapon. Whether it was a sword, knives, a crossbow, or a bow, every piece was meticulously made to perfection.
Jarin could have remained there for hours, looking over each weapon, but Radnar moved on. Jarin got to meet the other knights. Some trained any who wished to learn to fight, while the others were preparing for the inevitable showdown with the Coven.
Next, Jarin was introduced to Asa. He instantly noticed the Nordic heritage of the petite witch from her long, wavy, pale blond hair to her deep blue eyes.
He was curious as to how she’d come to be with the Hunters, but the question died on his lips when he saw all the sketches on parchment lying around her chamber.
There was pride in Radnar’s voice when he said, “Asa is more than just a witch. She sees images that she then tattoos on those who want them.”
Jarin held her gaze. “Impressive.”
She smiled at Radnar before sliding her gaze to Jarin. “I have love for imprinting meanings from someone’s life onto their skin. Armir and I had a nice discussion about his markings. Do you have any?”
Jarin didn’t answer her. Instead, he asked, “Do you give someone what they want? Or do you see what a person needs?”
“Both,” she replied. “Sometimes, they come to me wanting something but not knowing what it might be. I listen to them while m
y magic enfolds us. I then get an idea of what that person needs. I draw it and let them choose whether it is right or not.”
“She also speaks to animals,” Radnar added.
That piqued Jarin’s interest. “Is that so?”
“I have an owl,” Asa said proudly. “Frida goes out to keep an eye on the Hunters, reporting back if something is wrong. She cannot get to all of them, but she does try.”
Jarin was taken aback by that news. “One owl does all of that?”
“She is no regular bird,” Asa stated testily.
Radnar then said, “As Asa explains it, Frida feels a connection to the Hunters, and she feels it is her duty to check up on them. She is the one who let us know that Carac and Ravyn were in trouble.”
“Have you thought about using more owls?” Jarin asked her.
Asa walked to a table and sat. “Perhaps one day.”
When she began drawing, Radnar motioned them out. They walked along the long corridor of the abbey as the knight explained how everything worked with their sanctuary. Everyone had a job. They gave refuge to any who asked for it, but the occupants had to pull their weight.
The two walked through a doorway to a hall set with rows of tables. No words were spoken until they were seated and Radnar poured ale from a pitcher into two goblets.
He handed one to Jarin and asked, “What is your plan?”
“I began tracking Sybbyl after my last encounter with her. She is not traveling in a straight line. She is moving in various directions, sometimes backtracking or going in circles.”
“Do you think she knows you follow her?”
Jarin shrugged. “If she did, I think she would attack me. Nay, I believe she is looking for something or someone.”
“You are not contemplating facing her on your own, are you?” Radnar asked with a frown.
He was quiet for a long moment. Jarin took a drink of the ale. “The fact that she has the staff makes her powerful, but she is also easily provoked. That means it is simple to push her to that point where she makes careless decisions.”
“Malene spoke very highly of you,” Radnar said as he placed his ankle over his knee. “She said you were the best warrior the Varroki have. I also heard from Leoma, Braith, and Carac just how good you are.”
“But am I good enough to face Sybbyl on my own and win?” Jarin finished for him.
Radnar issued a half-shrug with one brow quirked. “Something like that.”
“My goal was to find Sybbyl. I do not know what I will do when that happens. There will be little time to send word to Malene for reinforcements.”
“Or us.”
Jarin gave a single nod. “Precisely.”
“It would be a shame for the Varroki to lose their finest warrior for something like that.”
“The Coven must be stopped.”
Radnar took a long swig of ale before lowering the cup and shifting in his chair to face Jarin. “Is that why you have Helena with you?”
“The witch is with me because I could not leave her to die. The Coven can trace her magic, but not mine.”
“So you brought her here for us to care for.”
Jarin held Radnar’s dark gaze for a silent minute. “She and I will track Sybbyl together. I brought her here so that she could see how prepared the Hunters are and maybe get her to trust you and Edra. Helena has her own issues with the Coven. From what I gather, it is a battle that will happen regardless. I plan to make sure she does not face them alone. Two is better than one.”
“And an army is even better,” Radnar countered.
8
It was amazing what a hot bath and a good scrub from head to toe could do for someone. Helena didn’t want to leave the luxurious bath, but the water had grown tepid, and she had no desire to be cold again.
She stood, and the droplets cascaded down her body. Quickly drying off, she wrapped a blanket around her and went to stand before the hearth, her feet kept warm by a thick fur rug.
No longer could she look at a fire and not think of Jarin. So much that had happened with him in the last few days had been around a fire.
He was inscrutable, but it was that mysteriousness that intrigued her. The times she had caught him looking at her made her very aware of herself—and her decidedly horrible appearance.
While not overly vain, she was well aware of how terrible she had looked and smelled before her bath. Now, there was excitement running through her at seeing him after she’d been washed, like shedding her old skin.
A knock on the door jerked her from her thoughts. The entry cracked open, and Synne poked her head in. A smile filled her face when she found Helena.
“You look a sight better,” she said.
Helena laughed softly. “I feel much better, as well.”
Synne swallowed. “Mind if I come in?”
“Please do.”
Synne slipped inside and pushed the door closed behind her. Her pale locks were pulled away from her face in a variety of braids that must have taken hours to do and seemed to complement the woman’s beauty.
Synne smiled and walked to her with a confidence that Helena envied. “I may be out of line, but I overheard Jarin and Radnar talking. The warlock says both of you are going to track down Sybbyl.”
“Aye, we are.”
“It will be easier if you are not hampered by a gown.”
Helena perked up. “If you are suggesting breeches like you wear, then, aye. I was going to ask if there were extra around.”
“There is always extra,” Synne said with a laugh. “I’ll get everything you need.”
She rushed off. Helena wondered if this was what it was like to have a sister. She had no siblings, but she had always dreamed of having one. Someone she could share secrets and dreams with.
It felt like only moments had passed when Synne returned with an armful of clothes and several pairs of boots. And just as quickly, the Hunter handed her each piece, telling her how to put them on. With each item of clothing that went onto her body, Helena grew more confident.
Clothes shouldn’t change someone’s outlook, but that’s precisely what the pants, shirt, and vest did.
“I was not sure of your foot size, so I brought a few pairs for you to try on,” Synne stated once Helena was dressed.
Helena walked a few paces and laughed at the feel of the trousers on her legs. “It feels odd.”
“You’ll get used to it quickly enough. It makes it difficult to put a dress back on,” Synne confessed with a grin. “Move around, you’ll see what I mean.”
“I am moving.”
Synne shot her a look. “You’re walking. I mean, run, jump, twist. Lunge. Imagine chasing after someone and having to leap over a fallen tree.”
“Oh,” Helena said, eyes wide. “I have never done that. But, it would have been easier these past weeks to be in this rather than my gown.”
Synne suddenly frowned. “I hope you were not expecting the gown, cloak, shoes, or your undergarments back. I burned them.”
“There was no amount of washing that would have saved any of it. They are better off in the fire.”
“Good. Now, let us fit you for boots.”
Helena followed Synne and sat when the Hunter pointed to the stool. One by one, Synne helped her put on each pair until they finally found some that fit.
Synne straightened with her hands on her hips and smiled at Helena. “You look like a Hunter now.”
“I rather feel like one.”
They shared a smile, but Synne’s dropped quickly. Helena touched her damp hair when she realized that’s what the Hunter stared at.
“We should see to that promptly,” Synne stated.
Helena blinked, not quite sure what Synne wanted of her. She was used to taking care of herself. She had done it for so long, she couldn’t remember any other way.
Synne stopped by the fire and looked over her shoulder at Helena. She then pointed to the fur rug. Helena hesitated a moment before she rose and made he
r way to the hearth.
With a little push on her shoulder by Synne, Helena found herself sitting. The Hunter began brushing her hair one section at a time with gentle, sure strokes. They didn’t talk, and soon, Helena found her eyes drifting close from the movements. Her mother must have once brushed her hair, but she couldn’t dredge up even one memory of it.
The feeling of the brush running through her hair was amazing. There were no words to describe how relaxing it was. A simple action could take away all her cares and thoughts.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She couldn’t stop thinking about Jarin.
As if reading her thoughts, Synne asked, “What do you think of the warlock?”
“I think he is extremely powerful.”
“Obviously,” the Hunter replied sarcastically. “I meant, what do you think of him...as a man?”
“Um...”
Synne chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It was the way he looked at you when Edra led you away.”
Helena’s heart missed a beat. “And how did he look at me?”
“Hungrily.”
Helena’s eyes snapped open when her stomach quivered in excitement. Hungrily. No, that couldn’t be right. “You must be mistaken. I’ve spent days with Jarin. He has not done or said anything that—”
“You would not be saying that had you seen his look. He is also very protective of you.”
“Really?” Helena asked softly, the idea making her smile.
“Aye. He is handsome. And those eyes of his.”
“He has a quiet confidence I like.”
“Mm-hmm,” Synne murmured as she set down the brush.
Helena closed her eyes when the Hunter started braiding her hair, but her thoughts were on the warlock. How she wished she could have seen the look Synne described. No one had ever gazed at her hungrily before.
No matter how she thought about it, what Synne said didn’t mesh with what Helena had experienced in the days she had been with Jarin. He was detached and rarely spoke, but he always made sure she had plenty of food and found a comfortable place for them to bed down for the night.
