For some reason, that made her want to cry harder than ever, the hurt pressing against the inside of her eyes, and she was grateful when she felt her gazelle reach out to enfold her.
Wordlessly, the graceful animal offered her distance.
Protection.
Escape.
She didn’t have to be Gizelle, she could just be.
For now, it was easiest just to run.
Chapter 18
Conall woke, surprised that he’d slept at all.
He didn’t feel rested, and he could feel his elk pacing in his head, full of unrelieved need and unhappiness.
He couldn’t stop remembering Gizelle: her slight, sweet figure in that alluring red dress. Her expressive mouth. Her ancient, dark eyes, framed in those long lashes. Her clever fingers tracing patterns in the condensation on her glass.
He groaned, willing his body to stop wanting her. He wondered how cold the showers here got.
She’s here, his elk breathed, suddenly aware, and Conall rolled over to find Gizelle sitting cross-legged on his wardrobe.
“Gizelle,” he said, strangled, as he sat up and pulled a decorative pillow into his lap.
“You were sleeping,” she said matter-of-factly.
“Most people do,” Conall said wryly, and after he said it, he wondered if she did.
“Did you dream?” she asked.
Did it count as dreaming that he couldn’t stop thinking about her, even while he was sleeping?
“I don’t remember.”
She nodded sagely. “There is a lot I don’t remember,” she said. “But I always remember not remembering. I always remember the place with no sky.”
Conall found himself having to watch her mouth carefully. Half of lip-reading was guessing what someone was going to say, and there was no predicting where Gizelle would go next.
“Have you had breakfast?” he asked, not sure how to answer.
“I grazed,” Gizelle said carelessly. “I wanted to see where you lived.” She ducked her head then, and said something Conall couldn’t see.
“I couldn’t see that,” he said, hating the admission.
She looked up in alarm. “I’m sorry! I just...” she blushed, but kept her chin up, clearly with effort. “I just thought maybe I’d show you where I lived.”
Her flush was the most adorable thing Conall had ever seen, and his elk persisted in finding it erotic and wondering if he would be able to make her flush like that while lying on the sheets beneath him.
This wasn’t helping his efforts to not need a pillow in his lap.
“I’d like that,” he said grimly.
To his alarm, Gizelle seemed to think that meant now, and she acrobatically vaulted from the wardrobe, plummeting to the floor to land in a crouch.
Her hair was still braided, but was starting to fray, with loose strands everywhere. She brushed it back and sprang to her feet. “It’s not far,” she promised, skirting away from the bed. She clearly still wasn’t ready to be touched.
“I, er, can’t yet,” Conall said, his voice breaking for the first time since puberty. He didn’t have to hear it to know, and he clutched the pillow closer.