Wind Wielder

Chapter 40- Laghallow

The next morning Azriel and Zara packed up their supplies and left to begin their journey to Laghallow before sunrise. They flew until dark. Indeed like Cassian had insinuated, Zara's toes had gone numb within the first three hours. She had tried to hold onto her pride for as long as she could, but when tears streamed down from the harsh cold wind and froze to ice on her numb cheeks, Zara tucked her head into the crook of Azriels neck and let it stay there for the rest of the flight. If Azriel noticed how Zara had wrapped her frozen hands into the hood of his cloak, he generously did not say anything. It never had been anywhere near this frigid in Dawn. Zara was grateful for Azriels warmth that seemed to radiate from him like a beacon as she huddled in closer. If he noticed that too, the Shadowsinger graciously didn't comment.

Azriel dropped them down at the tree line right next to the inn. Zara's knees buckled upon landing, and Azriel steadied her quickly, hands on her waist. "You alright?

"Fine." Zara said. "My legs just went numb during the flight. Sorry."

Azriel let go of her, turning to face the inn. It was a shoddy, rundown building. There was a tavern attached at the floor level, and Zara could smell the wafting beer and piss from here. "I'm going to go check us into a room. Keep your hood up and stay here until I get back."

Zara nodded her consent, leaning against the tree behind her to help steady her frozen legs. Azriel left silently, entering the rundown inn. Zara let her eyes run over the small squat tents in the distance.

This was Laghallow, she presumed. It was half the size of Windhaven, its tents significantly smaller and shittier. As if that were somehow possible. Zara wiggled her toes in the snow, willing feeling back into her legs.

Azriel appeared a moment later. Zara didn't stop him as he wrapped a possessive arm around her waist and led her into the inn, past the leering eyes of the wart covered innkeeper. Zara kept her head down, her hood hiding her face entirely as they walked up the stairs. Azriel stopped at a room on the third floor, unlocking the door and nudging it open with his shoulder. He stepped inside first, allowing Zara entrance once he deemed it safe.

Her eyes roved the tiny room and the low, cracking ceiling. "There's only one bed," Zara noted.

"They only have rooms with one bed here. Are you fine to share?" Azriel asked, shutting the door and locking it behind him. He slid the pack off his back, resting it on the bed.

Zara shrugged, ignoring the way butterflies erupted in her stomach. "Sure."

Azriel handed her a bundle of his clothes. "Put these on." He said.

"I have my own." Zara protested, placing his clothes back on the bed and reaching into the pack for her things.

"I know. But wear mine." Azriel pushed, gently knocking the nightclothes Zara had in her hands onto the bed, and filling her hands with his clothes instead.

"Why?" Zara snapped, irritation flashing. She tossed his clothes on the bed.

"The males filling the tavern below can smell you. They know you're the only female in here right now, and I can promise you they might come sniffing around our room tonight. If I'm gone for whatever reason, and you're alone, you won't be safe here," Azriel explained, shoulders tense.

Zara's eyes flashed blue in irritation, and he marked the movement. "Don't give me that look. I know damn well you can take care of yourself just fine." Azriel took a step closer and pressed the clothes into her stomach. "But why bother entertaining problems when the solution is simple? If they smell me on you, they won't touch you. I know you don't like it, but it's the only way you ensure your safety if we get in a position where I'm not there. So please, wear my clothes."