So, this is one of my favorite stories–and a first person short.
The Impossible Apprentice
My parents had decided that I should be apprenticed to the brightest and best of the up-and-coming sorcerers when I’d revealed my aptitude. I was the first in the last three generations with even enough ability to move a thimble. Unlike others from our area, though, it didn’t make me feel special and entitled. I wasn’t that good at the more common magic. Plus, I was hiding a bigger secret.
Grandma Jem said empaths were even more rare than most others. She’d told me it in secret when I’d confessed that I knew she was dying—her whole body had been roaring it. She told me to tell no one about my abilities but my Master or my mate. Empaths can be killed by emotions, and it leaves them vulnerable. It wasn’t safe to tell just anyone that I can read the emotions pouring off them. It was hard for me to learn that I couldn’t help everyone—not everyone could be healed with my touch.
Speaking of emotions pouring off someone, Master Thorn Crayton was experiencing large amounts of frustration—rather warm frustration—all aimed at me.
In all fairness, making the water boil was just not happening. I couldn’t do it. I knew I couldn’t Well, sure, I could move thimbles, but changing the energy and thermal patterns in water; it simply wasn’t going to happen.
“I’m sorry, Master Crayton,” I murmured, keeping my eyes from meeting his.
“I’ve told you, Fawn, we’re almost of an age and we’ve known each other forever; please call me Thorn.” His words said that, but the frustration—which only seemed to intensify with his words—carried a different tale. His mouth spoke a different language from his soul, and I couldn’t seem to understand either. “I can feel the energy hovering around you, Fawn. You’re stronger than you’re presenting.” Sighing, he said, “Okay, watch me again.”
He reached out and held his hand above the pot. It gave me the chance to study him without his icy-blue eyes staring right into me. It was as if he knew I was hiding something. I should tell him, but I’d been apprenticing for three months now, and it seemed late in the instruction to reveal something as significant as this. His beautiful mouth was pursed in concentration as he stared at the water. A moment later, it began to boil. It had been even faster this time. It was no wonder. His emotions just seemed to get stronger the longer I was around.
Of all the people I desperately didn’t want angry with me, Thorn Crayton topped the list. Every time he brushed back his raven-colored hair from his forehead in aggravation, I felt both silly and sad.
“See, you pull the energy in the air toward the pot and then push it in.” He glanced up. Apparently, he hadn’t realized I stare at him when he is occupied, because it startled him, and the water splashed from the rapid boil onto his hand. “Dammit!” He yanked his hand away, upending the pot. Pain and irritation and surprise all whispered in the air around him.
“Master Crayton,” I said, stepping forward and touching his burnt hand.
He jerked his hand from mine and put it to his mouth and waved the mess away with his other hand. The pot, water, and ground of his kitchen obeyed him at once. “It’s just a burn,” he muttered, sucking on the tip of a finger.
Disgusted. He was disgusted—with me. No, with himself. The direction of the emotions were inward. Men can be so stupid. From my father down to my brothers, they were stubborn. Impossibly stubborn.
I pulled his hand toward me. In my mind, I pushed the heat from the hand I was holding and rubbed at the frayed edges of his emotions, soothing him.
“It was just…you surprised me,” he said, his tone softer. “I apologize I lost my temper.”
The emotions were cooling around him. It was harder to deal with those focused inward unless I was touching him, but I pulled at those, twisting them from the tangle of emotions he felt, both good and bad. The invisible threads of energy that I felt were all around me and emotions rather than the kinetic power that most magical folk felt. Anger. Happiness. Greed. Pain. Sorrow. Passion. Frustration, lots of frustration.
The frustration pouring off of Thorn was strange and more intense than I was accustomed to dealing with from other people. I couldn’t figure out why he was so hotly frustrated with himself over my lack of progress.
“It’s not your fault, Master Crayton, that I’m a poor pupil,” I murmured.
“Fawn, you’re not.” I felt the flash of doubt—it hovered between us. He swallowed and pulled his hand away. “It feels better now. It wasn’t as bad as it seemed.”
Minor injuries—I could heal. Well, those were the only I dared to heal. One could heal a minor injury without recognition of such. I’d healed my brothers’ broken bones, but usually at night to keep it secret, and I was forced to sleep for an entire day afterwards.
His emotions were back behind the mask of Master. The frustration was there, as always, but it was no longer simmering as the water had been. I couldn’t do this anymore. I needed to tell him why he could feel the energy around me, but I lacked all but remedial skills.
On the other hand, what if he insisted I be trained by an empath? There were none around. I might have to live far away from here to apprentice to an empath. It would also be known what I was if he sent me to train. Plus, the honest mote with it was that I didn’t want to apprentice under anyone else.
These hours several times a week were the best I ever had. Not because I was learning—because I wasn’t. It was because Thorn was simply the most perfect man in our land. I watched him as he helped so many in our area. He wasn’t aloof as many other sorcerers. He was as willing to do simple spells for no pay as to create elaborate magic for the wealthy. The result was that he was constantly busy.
On the days I was here, I spent more time soothing his emotions and calming him than paying attention to my lessons. It felt nice to tie off the frayed emotions and brush them to peace. It felt like I was a part of his life. I was making his life miserable by being the worst apprentice in every other way, so it was probably the least I could do.
I could feel his eyes on me as I studied the page in front of me without reading. Perhaps if I looked like I was studying, he wouldn’t insist on another attempt at the boiling water. I pulled my brown braid around to chew on it—as I always did when I was nervous.
He was still staring. What was he seeing? A stubborn apprentice? The girl he’d swam with when we were kids and before he was sent to be an apprentice? A silly girl with braids, muddy eyes, and freckles despite being over eighteen?
I could feel the emotions building in him again…always the frustration. I felt like my lack of progress was killing him. I was his first apprentice after all. He’d said he’d been too busy for an apprentice himself until I came around. What an unprecedented disappointment I must be.
Three months and I couldn’t even boil water.
The emotions around him started to taste like charred bread in my mouth despite the not unpleasant scent they carried in the air. He wasn’t the only one disappointed. I should request to drop the apprenticeship before he loathed me. It would mean giving up our time together, but having him grow to resent me would destroy me.
Shutting the book, I said, swallowing my own frustration, “Master Crayton, I’ve just remembered something I promised to do for my parents. May I have your permission to leave early?” A sting inside my heart made me realize that I didn’t intend to come back.
“Can I help at all?” The sincerity and his anxious willingness to help soured the lie inside me. I couldn’t come back. All of this was a lie really. From the beginning to the end, I was holding back the one power I had.
“No, it’s a little thing,” I said, not meeting his eyes.
“I don’t mind. I’d love to help you with anything.” Amusement and fondness tickled the air between us. Eventually, this frustration he felt would destroy this aspect of our relationship, the moments when we weren’t grownups and I wasn’t his apprentice. It felt like we were back at the lake, and he was just Thorn…always teasing me for easing into the water an inch at a time.
“It’s nothing, Master…”
“Fawn, call me Thorn,” he said, laughing. The air bubbled and wiggled with the energy. The emotions were so strong that I felt my emotions twisting with his as they sometimes did. I tried to ignore my own emotions’ invisible strings most of the time I was with Thorn. I didn’t want to feel them. I knew what they meant. They blushed and hummed with pent-up passion and whispered of desire that made the air taste sweet to me. I’d felt them between lovers before, and it had been uncomfortable then. Now, it seemed best to avoid them.
My emotions were so strong that I couldn’t keep them inside me—they pushed outside the boundaries of me. The whole magical world could tell I was in love with him—if they knew what those emotions’ energies felt like. Even Thorn sensed them at times like this. A curious tracer tested the air around him, sensing the presence of energy, but unsure how to best use it. When he said he could feel the power I was presenting, my own energy…that’s what he felt, and I blushed every time.
Definitely not an aptitude for boiling water.
Thorn was an amazing sorcerer, and he should have a real apprentice to teach. I was impossible. I was taking time away from some other more-skilled pupil the longer I continued this charade for my own needs.
One last time, I soothed all the strayed threads of emotion around him, brushing them down with my own like a goodnight kiss on a child’s forehead. One last chance to actually be of some use to him rather than a constant source of frustration.
I grabbed my cloak from the peg, still not meeting his eyes. “I have to go. It’s nothing really.”
Slamming the door behind me in my haste, I winced at the sound. It had been so loud. After the first few steps, I decided to stop near the river and pick some herbs for my mother’s sore throat and to season our dinner. I’d been in a hurry this morning, anxious for time with Thorn, otherwise I’d have healed her throat before I left. It was best to have a hot tea to blame it on, though. As it was, the village we lived in wondered at my family’s impressive resistance to sickness. My mother swore by the mint tea I made. I couldn’t exactly tell her that the tea was just an excuse to brush away the sickness in my own way.
The sky was darkening early with an approaching storm. The air felt more charged than normal. Lightning. There would be lightning. I’d need to stay inside, deep in a room. The lightning did odd things to my abilities because I drew energy in, not just reused it. Everything intensified, painfully so, and I sometimes heard the scream of energy as lightning struck. If it was nearby, my body pounded with ache as if each thrust of light was driving spikes of energy into me and not splitting the sky. Those nights, I spent in the cellar—or in a closet.
Mother told everyone I was scared of thunderstorms. It seemed a more simple explanation than the bizarre truth. I knew that other magical folk didn’t care for them either—in a mild way—like a nuisance really. The energy was twisted and difficult to control by all but the strongest. I’d never thought to ask Thorn what he thought of them. He probably wasn’t bothered at all. He might even like them if he could harness their power.
I’d picked the mint and was putting it away when I felt the approach of someone. A darkness carried in the wind. The clearing beside the river didn’t provide much cover for someone wanting to hide, and I most definitely should.
The man’s energy hissed like the lightning coming. It singed the strands of energy. Hot desire poisoned the air. It wasn’t sweet. It was musky like an animal’s. I walked toward my home quickly. I wouldn’t make the trees before he breached the clearing. Evil. Dear lights above…he was evil. Acrid smoke assailed my nose. I’d never been around any so dark.
“Ho there, maiden,” he called as entered the glade.
Keep walking, Fawn. Keep walking. Why had I left Thorn’s side? All my anxiety of those moments seemed so misplaced now.
“I said…ho there!” The air bounced against me, wrapping me in thick bands. Magical bands. A sorcerer. I couldn’t move.
I stood frozen as his footsteps approached, heavy boots crunching a path as if they had spikes on the bottom—maybe they did. Each wind of threads brought with it the scent of evil and tendrils of lust that were binding me as fast as the spell he’d cast.
“Well, you’re a pretty thing,” he said, circling me. He was near my father’s age and dressed in black. A scar ran from his eyebrow to his mouth as if tracing his jaw. I saw the mark on his palm that he held up to keep me in place. He’d been branded as a dark practitioner. Another sorcerer had marked him so others wouldn’t trust him. No matter what he did—there was no hiding this mark of dark practices. “Answer my questions, and I might let you live after I’m done with you.” Lights above, I’d never met someone branded. I had no desire to be alive after he was done with me. “Where is the one known as Thorn, little one? I have a bone to pick with him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. Thorn, run. Thorn, run far away. I tried to send the message. If I was a better apprentice, I’d be able to use the mental path between Master and apprentice. Instead, I tangled the message in a string of energy and shoved it away from me in the direction of Thorn’s home.
“What?” The man snatched at the air beside me. He’d got the message I’d twisted in energy.
He raised his eyebrows, and I felt the lust treble in his veins. “Well, my pretty little bird. I might not be so anxious to let you go at all. That was an unusual trick for a commoner.” He reached out, tracing a grimy finger down my cheek and across my lower lip. The light rain wet my lips, and I could taste meat and dirt on his hands as if he’d recently cleaned up after eating by rolling in dirt. It was all secondary to the molten smoke scent in the air. “Where is the one they call Thorn?” he asked again.
I wasn’t going to live. What was the point? “Go to hell,” I muttered. He’d go there eventually, but suggesting the destination early made me feel better.
The slap of his hand on my cheek dampened the win. If not for the cords around me, I would have fallen with the force of it. The sting and anger hung between us, crackling on an emotional energy thread, and I grabbed the thread and shoved it back at him. It caught him in the face like a clawed animal. The blow surprised him, and he staggered, loosening his hold. The vise was back on before I could react to my release.
“Well, I came looking for one sorcerer to kill and what do I find but someone even more interesting than that pup.” He circled me again. “What are you?”
I clenched my jaw and twined the strands of emotion that broke from him like fireballs. Dark energy exhausted my limbs quickly and despair settled in my soul from the collection. I had enough in me for one last blow. If it surprised him, maybe I could be prepared to make a run for it. My cheek felt swollen, but I smothered the aching heat as I gathered dark, poisonous threads of energy from him.
“I can feel the heat around you of energy, but it’s not familiar, my sweet.” He touched my cheek again, a slithered caress. “You’re not creating it, but simply using it.”
Above us, there was a sudden flash in the sky. The spike of energy made me drop what I’d collected, and it diffused when it hit the ground in between us.
The sorcerer jumped back, eyeing the ground. Then, an evil grin slid onto his thick lips. “You hear the thunder? A sweet little sorceress like yourself must fear the advent of violent energy if you’re drawing it from the surroundings—whereas I will only grow stronger with more to manipulate in addition to my own.” He grabbed my chin roughly, his fingers biting into my cheeks. “Tell me where Thorn is, and I’ll take you somewhere quiet.”
No, I’d rather die before either course of action occurred. Whether I was killed by lightning or defiled by this creature…either was not my choice of ways to die. I wouldn’t be able to escape, though. I started pulling the darkness from him and swallowing it with my body as I had with my brother’s broken limbs. If I drew in enough, maybe it would kill me before he could touch me.
He frowned, unsure of the sudden draw on his energy. His soul was like a disease. His power came from something broken deep within him. I couldn’t kill him but if he found Thorn he’d be much weaker.
“Let her go, Viper,” Thorn said at the edge of the clearing.
Something warm slammed the cords binding me, and I dropped to the ground, crumpling from exhaustion. Viper! Lights above! I’d managed to fall into the hands of one of the few dark sorcerers I’d heard of.
He turned to face Thorn. Another bolt of lightning shattered the air. Sizzles of energy screamed toward me. I curled into a ball. I was still close enough to deflect some into Viper’s legs.
He screamed and turned to kick me. “You wretched witch,” he shrieked. I prepared for the strike of his foot, but it didn’t come. Peeking an eye open, I was just in time to see him pulled off his feet and into the air three feet. Thorn had a hand held out toward him. “You’ve gotten stronger, Thorn,” he snarled. “Plus, your little witch has been draining me and calling to you.”
Thorn glanced down at me, but refocused on Viper. He approached, his hands extended, as he muttered spells beneath his breath. One was for protection for me. He’d tried endlessly to teach me that one.
Viper was grasping at the air around for more energy to use.
I pulled it in as fast as I could.
Viper cursed down at me.
Cold. I was so cold. I felt my body bleeding energy. I’d taken in too much of Viper’s darkness. He was much weaker. That was all that mattered.
The sky flashed again. Lights above, I couldn’t take anymore. The spikes of energy hit me, diffused by Thorn’s protection, but my body seized beneath the onslaught nonetheless. I tried to turn them around to hit Viper again, but they bounced on the protection spell’s shield and hit me again.
Thorn swore and shouted, “Fawn, whatever you’re doing, stop it.”
Viper used the opportunity to cast a bolt at Thorn, knocking him backward. Viper dropped to the ground, running at Thorn.
Lightning flashed, and both men shouted at the sudden burst of violent energy available. I saw the light crackle in bolts between them as they both cast a killing bolt at the other. Then, the energy from the lightning hit me, and I heard the pound of my heart in my head like an explosion going off…and then silence.
“Fawn, please, please…don’t die. Healing vine be in her veins, whisper swift and in its wake…dammit…why can I never remember that?” Yeah, Thorn had always seemed to fail at healing spells. It was somewhat charming. Without him knowing, I’d been helping him with the ones I’d been present for. Warm arms held me beside an equally warm body. Rain pelted my legs as Thorn rushed through the storm. “Skies be with me, powers above, I swear I’ll give up everything if you just let her live,” he murmured.
In my head, I whispered his name. If I’d had more energy, I’d have told him to stop making crazy promises.
He whispered, “Thank the skies, you’re alive. I’m trying to get you inside.” A moment later, he kicked the door open to his place. “I’m going to set you on my bed for a second so I can open the trap door to my cellar.”
Lightning flashed in the distance, and I whimpered even as I felt the cushioning of his bed around me. Thorn put up a protection barrier around me, and the energy bounced off. Thank the powers; I couldn’t take any more lightning.
Thorn yanked the metal bolt in the floor, revealing stairs, next to his bed. A moment later, we were going down them with me in his arms again.
“Light,” he shouted. I felt the warmth of controlled, defined energy course out of his body in soft strands as the torch nearby obeyed him.
I pulled at one of the strands and wrapped it around me. It felt as warm and soothing as Thorn himself.
Thorn inhaled sharply. “You are doing that. He wasn’t wrong.”
“I can stop,” I croaked. My voice felt odd as if it wasn’t my own. I’d never had anywhere near that much darkness inside me. It had made my brothers’ broken bones look like scratches. The darkness made me ache and my breathing feel raspy. I’d felt, well, dead. It was a shock that I was still alive.
“No, if you’re healing yourself, use whatever you need. Tell me how to help you, Fawn, and I will,” he said.
I pulled a few more strands from the sweet smelling kindness that was emanating around him. I never wanted to smell evil again. Another bed seemed to appear out of nowhere.
“You have a bed in your cellar?” I whispered. I thought he’d seemed fine in the lightning. Why would he keep a bed in his cellar? Most sorcerers just kept supplies there.
“I remembered from when we were kids that you were scared of storms,” he said, setting me on the bed. “I asked your mother when she approached me if you were still bothered by storms. It seemed wise to be prepared, though I had no idea it was more than just discomfort and fear. You’re soaked. We should take off your outer layers at least.”
My body felt stiff and clumsy, but I helped him remove my shirt and skirt. My shift was probably mostly see-through but the lights were dim, and this was Thorn.
He yanked his shirt off and climbed into bed beside me, pulling me back into his arms and a quilt over-top us. “Now, I don’t know what your abilities are, but I have more than enough energy to spare. Just tell me what to do.”
His warm chest was making my nose feel as if it was extra cold. He was just radiating heat and energy. This was the first time I’d seen him without a shirt since we’d been kids. He’d…matured.
“I’m an empath,” I said, tucking my head under his chin.
His arms tightened around me. A burst of warmth flushed me. It was such a quick flash of emotion that I didn’t recognize it. It felt good…healthy…warm. Then again, I’d discovered even frustration felt that way when it was Thorn. Everything felt right coming from him. It smelled sugary like sweets in the oven. It was comforting, especially compared to the last hour’s events.
“Viper is…?” I asked as a sudden fear gripped me. What if he was still coming? What if…?
“He’s gone. It was substantially easier than I’d ever have guessed it would be when I tracked him down to mark him.” That was why Viper had come for Thorn. Thorn must have known today would eventually happen. Sorcerers didn’t take being marked lightly.
His fingers kneaded lightly on my back. I heard him mutter something under his breath, and sparks of warm energy fizzled at his fingertips, but didn’t penetrate.
Despite how awful I felt, I giggled. “You’re terrible at healing spells.”
Thorn laughed too. “I know. I thought I’d been getting better lately, but it was odd that it was only when you were around.” His hands continued to rub my back in a soothing pattern. His warm and good emotions were wrapping around me, and I pulled them in as surreptitiously as I could. Now that he knew, this felt awkward. “Why didn’t you tell me, Fawn?”
My cheeks flushed with heat. “My grandmother warned me not to tell any besides my Master or my mate,” I whispered.
“Well, as I’ve been one of those for several months and have intentions of being the other, you might have mentioned it.”
I froze. What did he just say? I pulled back, looking at him. There were times when you needed to meet each other’s eyes. “What?”
His lips twitched. “You have to have realized that by now.”
“No, I didn’t have to have,” I said, perturbed. “I aggravate you…nearly every hour I’m here.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What?”
“I’m an empath, Thorn. I can feel your emotions all the time,” I ground out. Whatever game he was playing, I knew how he felt. Maybe he just was intrigued by me being an empath or something.
“All the more reason that you should know how I feel about you. I spoke with your parents before I even agreed to take you as an apprentice. I never wanted an apprentice, but they were so determined to have you in an apprenticeship, and it would kill me to have you calling another man ‘Master.’” He rolled his eyes. “I had no idea how much I’d come to hate having you call me Master Crayton.”
His words made my mind swirl in confusion. What did it mean? “But, you’re frustrated with me. You have been for months. I can’t learn a thing,” I pointed out. “I can feel your frustration from the moment I enter your door.”
Thorn’s smile was back. “I will admit that I found it peculiar that I can feel energy around you yet you can’t seem to boil water even. I wasn’t sure if I was just explaining it wrong or if I wasn’t concentrating enough.”
“See. You’ve been very, very frustrated with me.” I wasn’t wrong about that. I could feel that.
His grin was even wider. It was very much the same smile he’d get before he’d try to dunk me underwater in the lake. “There is more than one way a man can be frustrated with a woman.” His arm slid around my waist. I could feel the warmth of his skin through my shift. He pulled me closer. His lips touched mine, soft as a butterfly’s flight.
The air between us crackled, and the strands of energy tangled and slid along each other. We both tugged at the strands to pull them inside us—him to use, mine to keep. They tingled and wrapped themselves around my veins until I felt like I was burning with fever.
His mouth became more insistent.
“More,” he whispered against my mouth. His tongue licked at my lips, tasting and teasing. I let the strands twine between us, filled with heat, passion, longing, and, yes, love. The energy in the invisible threads was like a hunger. The more that passed between us—the more I wanted. The threads were winds of passion, licking my insides, sending shivers of awareness across me. “Fawn, whatever you’re doing…,” he said, kissing my neck with urgency.
He pressed me onto my back. The emotional scent of love and lust dusted the air. It was natural and yet it felt more magical than anything I’d ever known. I wrapped the pulsing threads of passion around us. It felt like the binding from earlier with Viper only sensual and persuasive.
He moaned, clutching me to him. I needed…something so intense that I had no name for, but he could give it to me. I pulled his mouth back up to mine, wanting the taste of his mouth on my lips and tongue.
“We should stop,” he said between kisses.
Stop. No. We should definitely never stop. Thorn….
He froze before groaning in desire again. “Fawn, you can’t call my name like that and expect me to do the right thing and wait until we are married.” He brushed one last kiss against my lips before rolling off me. His breath was coming in quick pants. “Stopping just now took more energy than I think I’ve ever used for magic in my life.”
“I didn’t say your name out loud,” I said as little thrills of power shot through me at his words. Had I finally managed the Master-Apprentice channel of communication?
“You don’t have to when you’re both magical and meant to be mates,” he said, gulping in air and staring at the ceiling as if in deep concentration. “That’s how I knew you needed me earlier. You called my name. You used to do it when we were kids too.”
What? He’d known since we were kids that we were meant to be mates? “You put a snake in my hair when I was seven.” It had wriggled through my hair as I’d jumped around screaming and calling him every name I knew. I hated snakes now.
He laughed and looked over at me. “That was out of love, though. I loved you even back then. Plus, you really screamed my name in your head, and it was…amazing.”
“Amazing?” I repeated. We’d have to get back to this discussion about love at some point…and at a time when it didn’t include black snakes in my hair. I wasn’t completely sure I’d totally forgiven him for that in fact.
“Yes, I felt powerful,” he said, putting his arms in back of his head, seemingly lost in pleasant thoughts.
“You like when I scream your name?”
For a moment, I thought his grin might break his face. Then, it dropped from his face suddenly. “Well, up until you were in danger. I’ve never been so scared. Up until then, though, I loved it. It was like the powers that be were telling me that one day you’d be mine.”
Well, that was a rather possessive thought, but I liked it—as long as he didn’t get carried away.
“Plus, you sounded so girly when you were a kid.” Dropping his voice, he said, “Thorn. Thorn!” in this horrid, whiny, shrill voice.
I’d never sounded like that!
I punched his shoulder. “Well, I can’t hear you when you say my name.” How was that fair? That wasn’t fair.
“You can’t? It must be a difference in the way we use magic. You can tell what I’m feeling, though. That must be more useful.”
“Not when you’re only frustrated all the time,” I muttered.
“I can’t help it. Lights above, Fawn, when you grew up…you grew up in all the right ways. I’ve been in a state of constant frustration since I returned to town and saw you outside picking herbs.” What did that mean? “You’ll be seeing a lot more frustration until we’re wed—especially since I’ve now kissed you again. I’ve been trying so hard to go slow, but….”
“Again?” I repeated. We’d never kissed before, had we? I’d remember that.
He rolled onto his side and smiled, tipping my face toward his. “Sure. Don’t you remember? After I put that snake in your hair and you started crying, I apologized and kissed you and told you I’d never do that again forever. I planned on being around for forever so I could keep that promise.”
There was a vague memory of that…grossly overshadowed by the memory of the snake.
He leaned over and kissed my mouth softly. “I love you, Fawn.”
“I love you, Thorn,” I returned. “Forever. As long as you never put a snake in my hair again.”
Copyright © 2013 by Wendy Sparrow
If you liked the Impossible Apprentice, you’ll love Frosted and A Little Moon Madness.