True to his word, Arran kept me wrapped in his embrace throughout the night. He hung my clothes and rags by the fire as I changed, draped my blanket on a rock nearby, and pulled me down onto his own blanket to sleep. If I was not wrong, the patch of ground he had chosen was softer than it should have been, cushioned by thick moss that I hadn’t noticed in this area before. He didn’t give me time enough to look though,before he was tucking my head against his chest and pulling me to him. The Griffin watched the whole thing with one eye, but didn’t comment, and just as I was relaxing and starting to fall asleep, Arran murmured “We’ll talk about me being angry later.” Which made me try to peer up at his face skeptically. Either he was asleep, or very good at pretending. However, I suspected he
