“You’re going to love this wing!” Maren chirped as she skipped ahead of Jenna, her curls bouncing and her apron dusted with flour from the kitchen. “It smells like warm sunlight. The best kind of forgotten.”
Jenna trailed a few steps behind, arms folded, her steps cautious despite the cheer in her companion’s voice. Three days had passed since her last escape attempt. Three days since Kaelion had found her face down in the mud and carried her back with mud on his boots and patience in his voice.
She hadn’t tried again.
Not because she’d given up but because her body still ached from the fall and, more terrifyingly, her heart ached for something she didn’t yet have a name for.
“You’re quiet today,” Maren said, glancing back over her shoulder.
“I’m thinking,” Jenna replied, forcing a ha
