over to them, Sara’s movements
stopping the instant she saw him.
“ Lucian,” she murmured.
“ Yes, Sara?”
“ Where have you been? I told you this morning I needed to talk
to you.”
“ I am not at your beck and call Sara. I have a people to lead
and a war to win. When I’ve finished here, I’ll come to you and we
can talk about whatever it is you deem so important as to interrupt
my meeting.”
“ You make it sound as though I’m trying to make problems where
there aren’t any. I don’t have the time to wait for your meeting to
be over, I need to talk to you now.”
“ No, what you need to do is return Gareth’s sword to him
before he tries to take a healthy bite out of your neck.” The very
thought made Lucian’s stomach churn though not as much as the sight
of his friend pressed so intimately against his bride. She’s driving me crazy. She needs to leave before
I take her neck myself. No one ever gives me time to feed and her
presence is only making things worse.
“ I think you’ll find that this sword is mine so I don’t need
to return anything,” she countered, stepping closer to him.
Seraphina could erupt at any moment; she needed to be close to him.
The words were rational, they made sense but she couldn’t help but
think there was something more at work. She wanted to be close to
him, he called to her like no one else and judging from the way he
was unconsciously edging closer to her, he wanted it
too.
“ That sword is mine,” Gareth hissed, slightly unnerved by the
way he had been so effectively excluded from the discussion as
though Sara and Lucian were the only two people in the room. Their
eyes were focused only on each other, their perception of the
outside world dim.
Lifting the sword, Sara ran an assessing eye over it. “You’ve
taken good care of it,” she complimented. “But the sword is still
mine and always will be.”
“ What makes you think that?” He moved closer to her preparing
to take the blade from her hands by force if necessary. The red
glow in Lucian's eyes at the move though was making him nervous,
Lucian had never directed such an angry look at him
before.
“ I made this sword, so by any law it’s mine.”
Gareth paused letting the words sink in before boisterous
laughter spilled from his lips, even Lucian could barely resist the
urge to laugh at his bride’s words. Hot, dark eyes ran over her
petite frame assessingly. Her slender arms barely looked able to
lift the sword let alone craft it. Sara’s face flushed red with
embarrassment as the laughter spread around the room. Her eyes
narrowed angrily before she swung the sword, narrowly missing
slicing Gareth’s head from his shoulders and pointing the tip of
the sword at his throat. His eyes widened at the sudden
move.
“ My name is Sara Quicksilver and this sword, a Quicksilver,
was made by me, don’t make me have to bring out the sword’s true
potential to let you see the truth in my words.” The angry words
were hissed from between clenched teeth. Her swords were the only
things she could take pride in; no one insulted her work. She
lowered the sword, sure that her point had been made. Clenching the
handle for a second, she handed the blade back to Gareth confident
that he would continue to take care of her work. “You still don’t
believe me.”
“ It’s hard to imagine,” Lucian began, “that someone as
delicate as you could make such a weapon of
destruction.”
“ Fine,” she huffed, extending her open palm to him. “You want
proof, then take a look.” His eyes fell to her open palm, finally
noting the comet embossed on her skin, the symbol of the
Quicksilver.
Lucian’s eyes widened upon seeing the symbol amazed that his
bride was the legendary sword smith. No one had ever laid eyes on
the maker of the Quicksilvers but the swords were worth their
weight in gold despite that. Honed to such a fine edge that they
cut through almost anything, the swords never dulled, the
stopping the instant she saw him.
“ Lucian,” she murmured.
“ Yes, Sara?”
“ Where have you been? I told you this morning I needed to talk
to you.”
“ I am not at your beck and call Sara. I have a people to lead
and a war to win. When I’ve finished here, I’ll come to you and we
can talk about whatever it is you deem so important as to interrupt
my meeting.”
“ You make it sound as though I’m trying to make problems where
there aren’t any. I don’t have the time to wait for your meeting to
be over, I need to talk to you now.”
“ No, what you need to do is return Gareth’s sword to him
before he tries to take a healthy bite out of your neck.” The very
thought made Lucian’s stomach churn though not as much as the sight
of his friend pressed so intimately against his bride. She’s driving me crazy. She needs to leave before
I take her neck myself. No one ever gives me time to feed and her
presence is only making things worse.
“ I think you’ll find that this sword is mine so I don’t need
to return anything,” she countered, stepping closer to him.
Seraphina could erupt at any moment; she needed to be close to him.
The words were rational, they made sense but she couldn’t help but
think there was something more at work. She wanted to be close to
him, he called to her like no one else and judging from the way he
was unconsciously edging closer to her, he wanted it
too.
“ That sword is mine,” Gareth hissed, slightly unnerved by the
way he had been so effectively excluded from the discussion as
though Sara and Lucian were the only two people in the room. Their
eyes were focused only on each other, their perception of the
outside world dim.
Lifting the sword, Sara ran an assessing eye over it. “You’ve
taken good care of it,” she complimented. “But the sword is still
mine and always will be.”
“ What makes you think that?” He moved closer to her preparing
to take the blade from her hands by force if necessary. The red
glow in Lucian's eyes at the move though was making him nervous,
Lucian had never directed such an angry look at him
before.
“ I made this sword, so by any law it’s mine.”
Gareth paused letting the words sink in before boisterous
laughter spilled from his lips, even Lucian could barely resist the
urge to laugh at his bride’s words. Hot, dark eyes ran over her
petite frame assessingly. Her slender arms barely looked able to
lift the sword let alone craft it. Sara’s face flushed red with
embarrassment as the laughter spread around the room. Her eyes
narrowed angrily before she swung the sword, narrowly missing
slicing Gareth’s head from his shoulders and pointing the tip of
the sword at his throat. His eyes widened at the sudden
move.
“ My name is Sara Quicksilver and this sword, a Quicksilver,
was made by me, don’t make me have to bring out the sword’s true
potential to let you see the truth in my words.” The angry words
were hissed from between clenched teeth. Her swords were the only
things she could take pride in; no one insulted her work. She
lowered the sword, sure that her point had been made. Clenching the
handle for a second, she handed the blade back to Gareth confident
that he would continue to take care of her work. “You still don’t
believe me.”
“ It’s hard to imagine,” Lucian began, “that someone as
delicate as you could make such a weapon of
destruction.”
“ Fine,” she huffed, extending her open palm to him. “You want
proof, then take a look.” His eyes fell to her open palm, finally
noting the comet embossed on her skin, the symbol of the
Quicksilver.
Lucian’s eyes widened upon seeing the symbol amazed that his
bride was the legendary sword smith. No one had ever laid eyes on
the maker of the Quicksilvers but the swords were worth their
weight in gold despite that. Honed to such a fine edge that they
cut through almost anything, the swords never dulled, the
Similar Books
