There and BackChapter 113 Mourning
After a night spent reassuring ourselves with sight, taste, and touch that we were both alive and unharmed, I rose the next morning, tired but feeling better than I’d felt in months. Knowing that battle was hanging over our heads was a heavier weight than I’d thought. Alistair was still asleep, his golden hair slightly scruffy and spread about him like a short, spiky lion’s mane, and after a few minutes watching him sleep, I was restless. I eased out of his arms, threw on a pair of smalls and...