Blood Rites 3: A dark harem fantasy for men by Peter North

Author:Peter North [North, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2023-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

20

Fiddler’s Star

Lazarus continued whistling as he walked along the edge of Evergreen Forest, keeping his eyes on the shrubs for the bright, shimmering green of the fern. He’d gotten the idea to collect the ingredients necessary for the soup Rowan had made, and hope that she might offer to make some for him. Not that he needed to eat, of course, but cooking and eating together was a step toward intimacy and he was struggling to find ways to connect with Rowan using any other of her interests.

It was hard to be tender and loving when fighting side by side on the battlefield, though she was certainly skilled at that. And he wasn’t certain that rounding up demonic shifters for her to slay would be seen as quite the romantic gesture that he was hoping to woo her with. He’d already collected some of her favorite things—specially fletched arrows from Kellam’s new supply of celestium-tipped weapons; a beaded comb for her unruly hair, from the local jeweler who happened to have noticed her looking at it in his shop one day; and he’d commissioned Crimson Keep’s potter to make a special set of plates, bowls, and goblets for The Ranger’s Rest.

But these were all things, and Lazarus suspected that Rowan wouldn’t appreciate material gifts nearly as much as the thought behind them. He only hoped his thoughts were heading along the right path. The fern fronds had been a last minute addition to his list, and with them he thought he had something to represent the four main facets of Rowan’s personality as he understood her: her skill as an archer; her unique balance of practicality and vanity—which she would virulently deny, but which he saw nonetheless; her budding friendships with the other rangers and their project in the tavern; and last, but not least, her connection to her family.

He stooped to collect the first shimmering green plant he spotted beneath a towering oak tree. The leaves above had turned a deep golden color, one their way to reddish-brown. They fluttered in a breeze far above his head. The air was sweet and crisp. The day, so far, had been perfect. He pushed off the thought of what the rest of the day might hold, depending upon his interview with Talbot. That was a problem for later. For now, he had another, equally important task.

Lazarus plucked the fern and held it up to the light, certain that he had the right one. He stuffed it into a satchel at his side and continued along the path, hunting for more.

Lazarus had been thrilled to hear that Rowan was embracing some of her druidic heritage and, more than anything, he wanted to encourage her. She might never have full command of her ancestral magic, but making soup was a good first step for the woman who had all but sworn off her connection to the old path. Gideon, the old druidic priest who had helped Lazarus take down Baron Xander, had said that Rowan had more magic potential than she realized.

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