Alaric glanced sideways at me, his mouth twitching into that frustrating half-smile of his. “Would you have saved me, Abby?” he asked, voice low enough that only I could hear it.
“Depends,” I answered smoothly. “Would you have annoyed me into giving up my seat on the door?”
That earned a quiet laugh from him. Real and warm. And maybe, just maybe, a flicker of something more in his eyes.
The fire cracked again, sending sparks flying up toward the night sky. The meadow stretched out around us—soft grass, distant mountains silhouetted by moonlight, and that subtle scent of rain on the wind.
For a long moment, no one spoke. Just the fire, the stars, and the quiet rhythm of knives being sharpened and stew being stirred.
Then Norma, because she couldn’t help herself, said very loudly: “Pers
