The first time Jenaveve made actual eye contact with Rían was when they stopped in Wetherill’s marketplace to buy provisions for tomorrow’s journey into the Ashur Wood. But it wasn’t much. Even with her eyes drawn to his face, he gave her nothing more than a quick glance, only to make sure she got down from the saddle without any mishap. And when Rían looked over at her, there hadn’t been that heated sensuality in his gaze that she had gotten used to; it was more clinical than anything. Cold.
He peered over her shoulder, watching the bustle of the market, not ever looking at her when he said, “We shouldn’t stay long. Ten minutes tops. Stay close.” And then, with a curt nod, he grabbed the reins of the horse and walked over to a long wooden post to leash it. Leaving her cold.
In the hours
