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Wren approached her and tentatively tucked a loose strand
of hair back behind her ear, then stroked the side of her soft
face with his thumb.
Keri’s hazel eyes looked up to find Wren’s staring into
hers. It was protection, it was adoration, it was respect. Hell,
it could even have been love, but Wren wouldn’t know
what that felt like, he hadn’t felt it in so long. He did,
however, know that there something different about the
serving girl, something that held him firmly in place. It was
unusual for Wren to allow his guard to lowered, but the
girls skin was like soothing balm for the slayer of the
undead. The truly horrifying things he had seen seemed to
become forgotten memories in her presence.
‘Didn’t open the tavern today?’ asked Wren, his low
and gravelly voice sending shivers over her skin, causing
the fine hairs on her arms to stand on end.
‘No, not today. I didn’t want anyone coming in and
coughing their arse hole out of their mouth,’ said Keris,
with a smile.
‘Good,’ said Wren, squeezing her shoulders, gently.