Free Thorne (Random Romance) by Charlotte McConaghy Page B

shrugged, not really sure now. ‘Thought it might be fun.’
    ‘It’s like having Da along,’ he muttered and I cracked a smile. ‘There’s something … off about him. Do you feel it?’
    I glanced over my shoulder at Thorne. He was listening intently as Penn recounted one of his favourite stories about his grandma’s dog. I knew exactly what Jonah was talking about – there was something distinctly unsettling about the northern prince. Something that chafed on a deep, instinctive level. Like a scent, but more intimate.
    I nodded once and admitted, ‘I think it’s why I invited him.’
     
    We stopped for lunch on a hill covered in wildflowers. Penn started picking and threading them together into a garland, too distracted to eat. Thorne was inhaling an impossible amount of food, and I couldn’t help but share an amazed look with Jonah. I wolfed down some bread and cheese myself, then hopped to my feet and moved to the very top of the hill. From here I could see the ocean, as the road we were following hugged the coast closely.
    Thorne appeared at my side. ‘Are you in pain?’
    I frowned, not understanding. He gestured to my arm, and I realised it was scraped raw and covered in dirt from when I’d jumped out of the tree. Beads of blood had slid down towards my wrist.
    ‘You didn’t notice that?’
    ‘It’s barely a scratch,’ I scoffed. Something about my warder blood had always made me more able to deal with pain than most. I had so much adrenalin running through me that I often didn’t notice wounds until they got bad.
    ‘It needs to be cleaned and wrapped.’
    I shrugged. ‘Later.’
    Thorne walked to his pack and removed his canteen, plus a bandage. I watched, surprised, as he wet the material and used it to wipe my arm clean. It stung slightly. ‘What are you doing?’
    ‘You may be intent on an early grave, but I’d rather not watch you get there.’
    I smiled slowly. ‘You’re right. We shouldn’t add to the number of people who die each year of a scratch on the arm.’
    I watched his face closely and saw it: the edges of his lips twitching.
    Thorne handed me the bandage and told me to wrap my arm; he hadn’t touched my skin even once in the process of cleaning it, and the realisation peaked my curiosity. In the cave, it might have been purely circumstantial that he hadn’t shaken my hand. I had offended him with the trick, after all. But to be so careful now felt deliberate and I was immediately suspicious. Though I normally tried to avoid touching people, I determined to feel Thorne’s skin before the day was out.
    As I bandaged my arm he went to pack up our lunch remains. Penn had finished his garland and presented it to me with a flourishing theatrical bow.
    ‘For you, my lady.’
    ‘Thank you, kind sir.’
    I settled the flowers atop my head, feeling Thorne’s gaze upon me.
    ‘Don’t your friends give you gifts, Thorne?’ I asked him pointedly, daring him to explain why he seemed to be staring at me with such disapproval.
    His eyes dropped a moment, then met mine bravely. ‘I don’t have any friends, Finn.’
    Which pretty much made me feel like the worst person in the world. ‘Oh,’ I blurted eloquently.
    Penn presented him with a second garland. ‘Of course you do.’
    Thorne stared at the boy, and then he reached out to take the flowers and put them on his head. ‘Thank you,’ he said, and it was such a sweet moment that I knew I shouldn’t wreck it, but I honestly couldn’t help it. A laugh bubbled out of me and then I couldn’t contain it – I was giggling hysterically at the sight of the big brute wearing flowers on his head. Jonah started laughing too, and then, thankfully, so did Thorne. Pretty soon we were all cracking up. And I knew why he’d wanted to travel with us, even though we hadn’t been in any way welcoming: he had no one else.
     
    By sundown we’d reached a small town with a seaside tavern in which to stay the night. As we pushed our way into