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Her grandmother had insisted that calling her stubborn as a mule was insensitive to mules, because no creature in Steelwight was as willful as Shane. But Shane couldn’t help it. She knew what she wanted and she knew what was right, and she wasn’t the kind to back down on either count. It was how she’d ended up with her first and oldest partner: the ax strapped between her shoulder blades.
Briar laughed. “That’s the part of my daring appearance that intrigues you the most? Placing it historically?”
He’d never had a chance to play the gallant hero before, but he’d felt like one when he’d taken Fi’s hand and spun her across the floor. Not because he’d saved her from Armand, but because Armand didn’t matter anymore. He’d made her smile—he’d even made her laugh. Watching Fi’s face as she stared up at the night sky, the constellations rearranged in her hazel-green eyes, Briar caught himself thinking that maybe he’d been wrong about love all along. Maybe falling in love wasn’t something you dreamed about, or something you left to destiny. Maybe it was something that happened when you were
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He’d been laughing, too, everything else forgotten, his heart too full for a single wasteful thought.
