“Can we stop here?” Sera asked just after sunset.

“Why?”

“I camped here when I went up to Port Vallyn with my dad and the others, so I know there’s a nice little clearing just through those trees.” She pointed to the pine forest on the west side of the road.

“What’s your family’s problem with renting a room at a tavern?” he grouched. “Besides, we could be in Glendale by midnight.”

She could feel that he really didn’t want to stop, but she wanted more time with him, so she pressed, “We need to stop for dinner anyway. I’m hungry.”

“We could have stopped at Jarek’s Pass a few miles back.”

She shrugged. “Here is nice.” He hesitated, so she added, “Plus, I never stay up that late. I’d just end up falling asleep, and you’d have to hold me to make sure I didn’t fall off the horse.”

“Fine,” he grumbled and stopped the horse. He got down and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to dismount, but instead she put her arms out to him.

She felt his annoyance and fought a smile as he helped her. She rested her hands on his shoulders until he set her on the ground, then she put down her arms slowly, letting her hands lightly caress their way down his arms.

Holding his gaze, she felt his stir of emotions, and when she smiled up at him, it became stronger. She held in a sigh. It was a shame that such good feelings had to struggle with so much confusion and anger inside him. He didn’t understand his feelings, and that annoyed him. And he obviously thought caring was a weakness, so that made his feelings very mixed. She could explain everything to him, but she wouldn’t; he needed to work it out himself.

They walked a short distance into the forest and found the clearing she had told him about. He tied the horse to a tree and removed the saddlebags, setting them next to her, before unsaddling the mount and then going to gather wood.

She sat down and tried to focus on making dinner, though she couldn’t help looking up at him every so often. Still, by the time he had gotten the fire going, she was ready to fry some potatoes with onions, smoked ham, and some nearby mushrooms she had found. Thanks to her father, she knew everything that was edible in the forest.

Matt made sure to sit on the other side of the fire, away from her, and stayed silent while she cooked. He was silent and thoughtful while he smoked his cigarettes. She had a good view of him, though, and kept looking at him. She couldn’t get over how beautiful he was. And she was pleasantly surprised by his attitude. She had honestly been expecting worse, but he didn’t want to be mean to her. Even when he was trying to scare her off in the beginning, he had felt guilt over it. She knew it was because he felt the same connection she did. He didn’t understand it yet, but it was there. Rahnam, or soul mates, was a gift given to people by Tandra, the goddess of love, and it was never one-sided.

What she liked the most was how easy he was to read. Even though he knew she could feel his emotions, he never tried to control them like people usually did. He let himself feel everything—except for his effort to control his desire for her, which amused her. And she could tell when he was feeling something in the present instead of the past by the far-off look in his eyes.

Worry was a very rare thing for her, but she had spent the three weeks that he had been unconscious worrying over how bad he would be when he woke up. She didn’t know how difficult it would be to help him, but thankfully he was calm and rational, even though he very easily could have been the opposite. Still, he needed so much healing, but it was the kind that she couldn’t cure with her divine magic. She could be there for him, but he had to fight his inner demons alone, and they were getting to him more and more. Under his cool exterior, there were many ghosts of his past haunting him already. She could feel the torment they brought and wished she could alleviate some of it for him, knowing it was going to get worse before it got better.

When dinner was done cooking, she gave it all to him with a bottle of ale she had brought. He took it from her and frowned in confusion. She just smiled in return and got up.

“Where are you going?” he asked gruffly—his voice was always more of a bark the first time he spoke after a period of silence.

Once again, she ignored his tone. It was just his pain coming through. The removal of his mark had given him back his conscience; now he had to live with the memories of a monster and with the new ability to really see how horrible he had been. She knew it had nothing to do with her, so she made sure to not react to it.

“I’m just going to grab some berries and leaves I saw back there,” she told him lightly.

“Sit down and eat before it gets cold,” he commanded.

“No, you go ahead. I’m not too fond of that kind of food.”

He felt annoyed. “Then why the hell did you make it?”

“Because it's what you like,” she answered simply.

He frowned at her. “How do you know?”

“Because I’m sneaky like that.” She laughed at his grumpy face. “I just know your type,” she told him seriously, then quickly added, “Food-wise, that is. My dad and uncle are the same, and I’ve yet to meet any big, tough guys who prefer light meals to something hearty.”

“But why make stuff you don’t like? That’s stupid.”

“Because it makes me happy to cook for you, to make you what you like.”

She felt his confusion and discomfort. He looked thoughtful for a moment, remembering something. The thought made him feel more uncomfortable. He came back to the present and frowned at her again. “What are you going to eat?”

“I have some bread and cheese and apple cider,” she told him. “And I saw some berries and plants to make a bit of a salad. Do you want me to pick you anything?”

He looked at her for a moment like she was crazy, then shook his head. “No,” he grumbled and turned his attention to his food, so she went east to fetch her items.

The rest of their meal was quiet. After she cleaned up, she laid out her bedroll and sat down on it while he retreated a couple yards. It was dark enough now that she could barely see him in the shadow of the tree he leaned against; all she saw was the end of his cigarette, unless she strained her eyes. But he obviously didn’t want to be seen, so she left him alone and read a book that she had with her, turning her back mostly to the fire to get enough light. Still, it was hard to pay attention to the Book of Aryst when her thoughts were so wrapped up in him.

A short while later, when she'd given up the book and was just staring at the fire, three men came into the clearing, very near her. They scanned the campsite and saw only one bedroll, one horse, and her. They didn’t notice Matt. She looked up at them calmly. She felt their lust; it was immediate and intense. She made sure to keep her expression neutral, though she had the urge to scrunch up her nose at their grimy appearance and unpleasant smell.

“We’re here to relieve you of your goods, darlin’,” one told her.

“Yeah, starting with that dress,” another said and licked his lips in anticipation.

She didn’t look at Matt, didn’t give away his presence. She was giving him the option not to help her. She understood the danger—she had dealt with victims of their kind of assault before and knew what they were planning—but she wasn’t actually scared. Anyone would tell her she should be, but she had faith in Matt, that he would come through before it was too late. And even if he didn’t, her chances for survival were good, especially if she didn’t fight, which she had no intention of doing. Anything else could be healed.

She focused on Matt’s feelings. He was struggling, obviously trying to not care. But as soon as one of the men took another step forward and reached out to touch her, Matt moved out from the shadows, his mood having gone from defiant and annoyed to furious and fiercely protective in seconds.

“Get lost,” he demanded.

She hoped the men did as he said; she didn’t want anyone to get hurt. But she was surprised when the first man squinted and then broke into a grin. “Hey, Mathias.” He glanced at Sera. “Damn, you always get the gorgeous ones, don’t you?”

“Beat it, Troy,” Matt told him, his voice low and warning.

“Yeah, sure,” Troy said, smirking. “Watch out that you don’t kill her, though,” he added with a chuckle. “This one looks far too delicate for your sport.”

Sera could have rolled her eyes. People always thought she was weak and breakable; even Tess and Ayden treated her like she was a porcelain doll. But her appearance was deceiving; she was much stronger and more durable than people realized. And people tended to assume that if you were passive, that meant you were physically weak, but it just wasn’t true.

Matt took a threatening step forward. “She is not sport,” he growled menacingly.

The three men looked dumbfounded, then suddenly understood. “Oh, riiiiight.” Troy winked. “Gotcha. We’ll just leave you with your little friend here.” They snickered as they disappeared into the forest.

Sera almost laughed. They obviously thought she was stupid as well as weak. Or at least that she was very naive—everyone thought that, too.

Matt took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm down. He struggled for a few minutes with his violent feelings, and then finally looked over, studying her. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

She smiled, loving the protective feelings he had for her. He honestly cared, even if he didn’t want to. “Yes, thank you.”

He nodded, then sat on the opposite side of the fire and stared at it for a while. “You’re not in any danger, by the way,” he muttered. “From me, I mean.”

“I know,” she said, smiling again. She felt his lusty feelings and looked down, unconsciously biting her bottom lip at the images that went through her mind. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to be out of danger from him.

When she looked back up at him, he was frowning at her. “Good… well, night,” he said as he took off his jacket. He folded it and then used it for a pillow when he lay down on the forest floor, leaving him in just a dark gray t-shirt and black leather pants. He didn’t bother taking off his boots or his belt, and his sword he set on his right side, by his sword arm. He wanted to be ready at a second’s notice—her father and uncle were the same way when they were camping. She knew it was a fighter thing.

She felt a little guilty about Matt not having a bedroll and blanket. She knew that he had planned on going straight to Glendale, and that’s why he had refused all of her offers to buy him anything, only agreeing to giving him her horse. Though she knew what the answer would be, she offered anyway. “You can share my bedroll, it’s—”

“No,” he interrupted curtly.

She considered pushing a little, but decided against it. “Okay. Goodnight,” she told him softly.

He said nothing.