Heart of the Hunted: A deliciously dark, romantic Snow White retelling (Cursed Hearts Book 1) by T.L. Thorne

Author:T.L. Thorne [Thorne, T.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-22T05:00:00+00:00

Dinner was raucous, rowdy, and fun. The dwarves, although stubborn, weren't rude. At least, not to me. Argen responded to anyone that tried to say anything about me, and I beamed at him with appreciation. Sahlyn wasn’t so lucky. They teased his tawny hair and good looks. He even had to compare stomach muscles with a younger male dwarf, and I won’t deny that my mouth went dry as he counted his abdominal muscles against the others. His scars and stories of monster slewing did gain him respect, and I held in my account of saving him from the demon wolf. He wouldn’t tell the tale without my consent, but I knew gaining the dwarves' respect was important to him. Sahlyn was a warrior and like called to like. It might take some work to get the battle-loving dwarves to respect him because he was a human, but Sahlyn would accomplish it. He’d already gained Argen’s respect. When Argen told his brethren the tale of our fight through the woods, he painted Sahlyn and me in a warrior light equal to his own.

When the dwarves questioned Sahlyn’s weapon, his eyes found mine. So, he did know it was my make. I had never gotten around to voicing it, and I assumed he had no idea. But, with that knowing look, it would seem that he knew my “family” had made it. I dipped my chin in consent to his unspoken question.

“This fine weapon was crafted by…” He gestured to me, and everyone’s eyes swiveled in my direction.

“The blade was designed and crafted by my hand,” my voice rang out strong and sure, but I was quaking in my bones.

Esme telling me my work was good was one thing, but to have this community of dwarves scrutinize my weaponry stole my breath. Yet, I knew my work was exceptional—maybe not to dwarven standards.

Argen stared at me in disbelief for a second, and I swallowed. I hadn’t told him I made weapons. Then he ran a finger down the gleaming blade that Sahlyn had set on the table.

“This craftsmanship is as fine as any dwarf’s I’ve ever seen.” His eyes grazed on me again, perplexed, as if I’d kept this secret from him.

A murmur of agreement swept through the warriors as each of them touched the sword, held it up, and weighted its consistency.

“I’ve nay seen a finer sword fit fer the height of human’s ‘fore.”

“Aye.”

Not a single dwarf said a negative word about my work, and Sahlyn met my eyes over their heads with a twinkle of pride. I answered Sahlyn’s wide grin with my own. Pride filled me, and a warmth of belonging and connection that I didn’t expect with coming here. Tears crawled up my throat and prickled in the back of my eyes.

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