Crow held onto Penelope’s hand as she grew quiet, seeming to debate with herself in her head. After a moment, she finally admitted her fear of thunder and lightning to him. He listened patiently as she explained how she had been frightened by it as a child, understanding how her experience back then had shaped her terror now. He found it interesting that they had been through similar ordeals when they were young, in the sense that they had been bridled by things that had scared them long in the past.

[i]We’re a lot alike,[/i] he mused, squeezing her hand fondly. Both the products of noble fathers and peasant mothers, both scarred by incidents during their childhoods, both just doing what they could to make the most of the hands they had been dealt in their lives. He was beginning to wonder if it hadn’t just been coincidence that had brought them together on this journey.

“Hey,” he offered her a comforting smile. “You’re talking to a man who faints when he gets a cut. Trust me, your fear isn’t stupid.” He moved to sit on the pile of hay, pulling her down next to him. Another round of thunder boomed outside, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close to his side.

He looked up at a small opening across from where they were sitting, where the roof had warped slightly and pulled away from the wall. Flashes of lightning could be seen through it, and he frowned, glancing back at Penelope. He wanted to distract her somehow to keep her from looking at it.

Turning to face her, Crow slid his arm down from her shoulders to the small of her back and reached up with his other hand to tilt her head towards him. “Focus on me, okay?” he said, holding her gaze. “Don’t think about the storm. Just focus on this.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply as the thunder continued to growl outside of the stables.