The smell of roasted herbs and garlic pulled me from my thoughts. I sat on the edge of the couch, legs tucked under me, wrapped in the soft sweater Reule had dropped off two days ago. He hadn't said a word when he handed it to me, just tossed it onto the bed and walked out. I’d only cut the tag off this morning.

The fire crackled in the hearth, flickering shadows against the stone walls. I wasn’t cold, just restless. Then, the door eased open.

“I made dinner,” Reule said, ...