Weaving Winter: A Fantasy Romance by Yasmine Galenorn

Author:Yasmine Galenorn [Galenorn, Yasmine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nightqueen Enterprises LLC
Published: 2024-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

That evening, we had just finished mending everything that had been in the pile, when the clang of a gong rang.

“Dinner,” he said. We’d stopped for a quick lunch of bread and cheese which Fenling brought in, but other than that, we’d worked in silence. As the hours wore away, I realized that I was comfortable in silence around Bran. A rare joy. I enjoyed talking to friends, but my time to myself was important, and I was used to days out in the forest, hunting, with no one to talk to. I had grown used to the silence of my thoughts.

“I’m hungry,” I said, standing to stretch. “Is the storm still bad?”

He peeked out of the tent. “Worse.”

“I need to use the privy,” I said. “Where is it?”

“Too far from here to chance. You can use the one in my tent. Come, follow me.” He led me outside by the hand. “Don’t let go. I know my way around the camp blindfolded, but it’s nearly zero visibility and you could easily get lost in the blizzard.”

I held on tightly, letting him lead me through the blinding snow. It was coming down so hard and fast that it was almost impossible to see my hand in front of my face. I trusted that Bran knew his way around, and sure enough, a few moments later we were standing inside his tent.

He pointed to the screen. “Behind there. I’ll stand right outside and wait for you.”

As he vanished out the door, I raced behind the screen. As I sat there on the wooden seat, I thought about my grandparents. I had never met them. My father had hated the Wolf People, but my grandparents’ deaths had been more academic to me, and I hadn’t developed the same hatred.

I finished my business and washed my hands in the basin sitting on a small table by the screen. Since Bran’s brother was a prince, did that make Bran royalty, as well? For some reason, that thought hadn’t occurred to me before.

I peeked out the tent flap. “I’m done.”

“Then let’s go get some dinner.” He took my hand and we pressed against the biting winds towards the mess tent. As we ducked inside, everybody looked up. We were among the last to join the group. Bran motioned for me to take a seat, while he went over to confer with several other men, and his cousin Fenling.

Feeling slightly self-conscious, I sat down on the bench in the same spot I’d sat in before. The man across from me had long brown hair, and his skin was dark. His eyes gleamed with a yellowish color and there was something incredibly feral about him. I realized then that, given they were the Wolf People, that wildness was simply part of their nature.

“Thank you,” I said as he passed me a large platter of beef. “What’s your name?”

“Quen,” he said. Then, his eyes gleaming, he asked, “Are you Bran’s woman?”

I jerked my head up, startled. “What?”

“I asked if you’re Bran’s woman? He could use one, for sure.

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