MAGIC FORBIDDEN
All Mages, Sisters & Druids must inform the innkeeper of any magical abilities.
ANY users of magic inside will be dealt with appropriately due to the nature of the crime.
Thank you
I cocked my head while I read the black calligraphy on the overly large wooden door. The sun had almost set when we came across an inn. The top and sides of the wooden building were covered with grass as it was built into the hill. Tall pine trees were all that surrounded it. The building felt out of place sitting in the middle of nowhere, and I had told Weston that. But he’d said it was a traveling inn, and there wasn’t anything strange about it. I had left it to him then, since he was the experienced traveler.
Grandmother had taught me little about magic, but I did learn some about Mages. The magical ability was only passed down through the mother’s side. Every Mage had different abilities, but I didn’t know the extent of what they could do. The only one I had ever seen came through Alger once in a traveling show. The cloaked man could manipulate fire into any form he wished. He had put on a show of a maiden being rescued by a knight all out of flames. It was common knowledge Mages had hot tempers, and soon after there were broken bones and burnt down buildings. Many businesses had restrictions on magic and enchantments to back them up.
After requesting a couple of rooms, we sat down at a wooden table to eat some supper. I was devouring mine. The hot meal was definitely better than the dry jerky and fruit Grandmother had packed.
The serving women were overly friendly with Weston. Asking him whether he needed a refill, only moments after they refilled it while leaning over the table too far every damn time. Asking him whether he needed anything, with much emphasis on the anything.
I could have used a refill, but they ignored me.
Annoyance prickled my back, and I grabbed Weston’s cup of ale and took a big swallow. His gaze hardened as I grimaced at the bitter taste. I was used to wine, not ale.
“What? They’ll refill it within moments. Don’t you worry,” I told him as I poured the rest of his drink into my cup and then scoffed at the prompt maid. She looked at me as if I were the strange one.
When the door slammed, I glanced up. My breath hitched, and I dropped the cup in my hand. Weston reached out and caught it before it could spill all over us. I only saw the action out of the corner of my eye, because my gaze was focused on the Titan in the doorway.
He had dark hair, cropped short; his face undoubtedly resembled Weston’s. He was probably stockier than Weston, which was hard to imagine, but he was an inch or two shorter and dressed in full Titan wear. Black pants and black sleeveless shirt, the Titan brand on his forearm only confirming everything else. Weston always wore the traditional sleeveless leather jerkin they wore around these parts, and his brand matched the Titan’s.
So, he was a Titan. Or is?
I looked at the man in question. He was only leaning back in his chair, his forearm on the table and watching me with a lazy amused expression. I glanced back to the door uncertainly and then back at Weston. His lips tipped up a little as if he knew who stood behind him and was entertained at my confusion.
The man came straight for us, and I couldn’t help but stare. I had never seen a Titan before, besides Weston, and it was a sight.
Somehow just the way the man walked, as if he owned the floor, captivated me. I was used to normal peasant men, nothing like . . . this.
How had I gone twenty years without ever seeing a man who made my breath catch and then meet two within days? The Titan’s blue eyes met mine and my cheeks warmed.
“Might want to close your mouth, Princess. He would snap your neck without a second thought,” Weston said sardonically.
I frowned. Because Princess?
Worry gnawed at me as the man sat down in the chair next to me and across from Weston. The room suddenly felt as cramped as trying to put on one of my childhood dresses. I imagined this man’s and Weston’s presences combined were going to push me right out the door. The oxygen in the area was diminishing, and I had the desire to get up and leave. There was no room for a mere girl and two Titans at this table.
“Brother,” the Titan said.
“Roldan,” said Weston. I wasn’t alarmed to find out they were brothers, the similarity too uncanny not to be. But some unease snaked through me at the fact that they both had ended up at a traveling inn in the middle of nowhere. I gnawed on my lip as my guess was the odds of that were slim to none.
They watched each other with their gazes locked, having said nothing but the strange greeting. I was almost mesmerized by their blatant stares. They weren’t even acknowledging my presence, and yet it felt as if I were the one they were both staring at. I felt breathless as tension clouded the room the longer they were silent.
“Try it,” Weston said with a malicious smile that gave me the shivers.
Roldan returned the smile and raised a brow. “You think I can’t?”
“Go ahead and find out,” Weston said indifferently and took a drink out of his cup. Confusion surrounded me, and my legs itched to get up and leave. I didn’t exactly feel the safest where I sat. Try not at all. But it felt as though my butt were frozen to my seat.
?
??Such confidence,” Roldan mocked.
“I could say the same to you, Brother. I thought you were smarter than this.”