Brie
I wake up the next morning curled in Logan’s arms. I doubt we got more than a few hours of sleep, but my mind won’t shut off, and I doubt his has either.
We lay there in silence for several minutes. Logan draws lazy circles on my arm while staring up at the ceiling. I want to ask him what he’s feeling right now. I’ve never seen him this quiet, this at a loss for words.
So, I’m the one who talks instead.
“Do you remember me as a kid?” I ask, and he nods, then shrugs one shoulder.
“I suppose. You’re seven years younger than me, though. You would have been playing with dolls while I was out hunting or training to be a warrior.”
“Maeve mentioned last night, when I told her I could speak your language, that I spent a summer in Silverhide while Aviva was teaching you how to read a
