After Bronwyn left, Alaura stepped inside her dwelling, shut the door and set the lock. Turning to face her small room, she rested her weight against the door and released the breath she’d held since he had asked her for an outing. She had almost accepted the invitation. Common sense stopped her.
There, with the night air preying on her senses, she felt her attraction for the dwarf emerge stronger than ever before. Three steps away, his playful eyes had teased her, looking upon her as a mate admiring the one his blood burnt for. Those eyes hid nothing from her; he held only honest and true intentions. His moist lips, smiling to reveal his easy-going nature, appeared perfect for the kiss her mouth craved to impart. The breeze teased her, beckoned her to reach out and wrap her arms around him. She imagined his strong arms embracing her and his gentle hands exploring her body like no other man had.
Alaura drew deep calming breaths. Bronwyn remained only a friend. She told herself this every day to make herself believe it. The alternative held too many dangers for both of them. She swallowed hard. If anything happened to him because of her, she’d never forgive herself.
Realising the position in which she had put herself, she should have declined the invitation for the evening ration. But, the Darrow family reminded her of her own family at Petra and her desire to stay had won over the need to keep her distance.
Bronwyn expected more of her, but she could never be with him. She had to stay pure. Thankfully, he didn’t force the matter. His bashful nature kept him from saying or doing things other men by now would have tried. Still, she regretted hurting his feelings each time he gathered enough courage to ask her for her company. She wanted to say yes but duty bound her.
She should have taken Beathas’ offer to accompany two other magic-maidens to Wandsworth to attend an herbal training session. When asked, Alaura had declined because she didn’t want to leave Isla for three months. In truth, she didn’t want to leave Bronwyn. She realised now, she should have. She needed to distance herself from him—maybe leave Maskil for good—if she wanted to remain loyal to her pledge and guard him against harm.
Staring into the darkness, still feeling Bronwyn’s warm hand upon hers and still savouring his scent, she feared it to be already too late.