Darkness Awakened (Primal Heat Trilogy #1) (Order of the Blade) by Stephanie Rowe Read Free Book Online

walked past her, grabbed the comforter off the bed and held it out to her.
    She blinked in surprise, and her throat tightened at the kindness that reminded her of a life long-forgotten, a time when she wasn’t on her own, fighting to survive. That small gesture made something inside her crumble, and suddenly she had the most ridiculous urge to cry.
    She hadn’t succumbed to tears even once since Ana had disappeared. She’d worked hard to stay strong and to maintain her focus. Then some stranger hands her a blanket and it makes her want to start sobbing? She had no time for tears. She cleared her throat and managed a small smile. “Thanks.” She shrugged off her drenched coat, and he took it from her hand as he gave her the blanket.
    “No problem.” Watching her as if he were taking note of every detail about her, he tossed the jacket over a hook by the fireplace, then made quick work of starting a fire while she wrapped herself in the thick blanket that smelled of wood smoke, man and warmth.
    Within moments, the small cabin was filled with the flickering orange light, the roar of flames, and the crackle of dried logs burning. The reflection from the fire danced over his skin just as she’d envisioned it, and his gaze locked on hers, as if he were thinking the same thing.
    Heat rose inside the comforter wrapped so tightly around her, and suddenly she wanted to peel it off her body and—
    His eyes narrowed and his expression changed from smoldering heat to utter and intense coldness. Gone was the humanity of that quick smile he’d given her, replaced by the calculating warrior who saw her only as a threat, or an impediment. She knew then why he hadn’t said much so far. He wasn’t ready. He was still assessing her and figuring her out before deciding his avenue of attack.
    Suddenly cold again, she hugged her arms tighter, trying to stop herself from trembling. But even her belly was aching from shivering. She’d been too cold for too long. Oregon wasn’t supposed to be this cold in the winter. Warm and rainy, not below freezing with the forecast of an ice storm.
    Quinn walked to the kitchen, where he grabbed three bagels and a couple bottles of water. She sighed and eased over to the fire, trying to get warm and collect herself. She’d have one chance to ask for his help, one opportunity to play her hand. She had to get the timing right, the delivery perfect, all of it carefully executed. What kind of request would he respond to? She needed to analyze him exactly as he’d been evaluating her.
    Quinn headed back in her direction, and her belly fluttered as he neared. But all he did was shove a bagel and a bottle of water at her before easing himself onto his bed, the only place to sit in the room. The faded blue blankets were askew from when he’d ripped off the comforter, and one of the pillows was on the floor.
    He opened his water, took a big bite of the bagel and leaned back, grimacing slightly when his back hit the headboard. His body was solid and well-muscled as he hooked his arm over the pine bed frame. There was a scar above his right eye and his nose looked like it had been shattered more than once, giving him the air of a soldier who had endured the worst and come out the victor.
    His brown eyes regarded her coldly. Waiting. “So, Grace Matthews,” he said finally. “What do you want?”
    It was time.
    She willed herself courage, then dragged herself and the comforter across the room and perched on the edge of the bed, decadently close to his legs. He was sprawled carelessly over the mattress, as if he hadn’t had the energy to hold himself up a moment longer. He hadn’t bothered to take off his muddy boots and didn’t even seem to notice that oversight.
    Or maybe that’s how he always slept: owning his space, fully dressed, and ready to go to battle in a split second.
    She faced him, tucking her feet up under her to keep her toes from brushing against his heavily muscled thigh. She met his