Verath the Red (Dragonwall Series #3)

Chapter 5 - A Rare Unicorn

The Gable Forest

Jeanine stood in the shadows, peering through an overgrowth of lush foliage. Utterly bewitched. The forest's growth gave way to a small clearing, carpeted by a meadow.

She didn't blink. Not once.

A black unicorn, possibly the rarest creature of all, grazed on a patch of grass. She'd seen plenty of white unicorns, but never one like this. With its coat black as midnight. And its horn shimmering with an iridescent sheen.

She watched, afraid to so much as breathe. It was the second time she'd encountered it. The first, it bolted before she got more than a glimpse.

"If you stare long enough, he might humor you out of boredom." She jumped, cursing under her breath.

The unicorn pricked its ears, lifting its head in her direction. She didn't move—didn't breathe. After a few long moments, it returned to its grazing.

"Are you mad?" She rounded on Prince Feowen, cloaked in shadow behind her. "What are you doing?!"

Two days. He'd been absent for two days. And he chose now, of all times, to make an appearance.

"Trying to help, obviously."

"You? Help?" She narrowed her eyes before turning back to the clearing. "If by help you mean to scare it away, then sure, you're helping a lot."

"Just watch." He stepped forward, wicked grin blazing, and parted the foliage before him.

As he stepped out, the head of the unicorn swung in his direction, but it did not bolt. She cursed him under her breath. He held out his hand, his movements slow and deliberate. "Gehtalla...gehtalla..." The unicorn's ears pricked up. "Taventah vah'lia. Gehtalla...gehtalla..."

She watched, unblinking. It lifted its head higher and acknowledged him with a loud snort, like a horse. But it did not move away.

Feowen glanced in her direction, expression triumphant, eyes aglow. The unicorn sniffed his fingers with mild interest before lowering its head to graze once more. He brushed his fingers over the creature's neck, moving cautiously before petting it with both hands.

A smile came unbidden to her lips. Was it truly that easy? It shouldn't have surprised her. Feowen was good at nearly everything. Why not this?

He continued to stroke the creature. "I believe he will let you pet him now." His voice was a low murmur. The unicorn merely shifted to enjoy a new swath of grass. "He already knows you are hiding. Come here."

She pushed the foliage aside and stepped into the clearing. It was done less gracefully than the prince, with a good deal more noise. The unicorn had already gone back to its snacking, but its left ear swiveled in her direction. She crept over.

"Here—" Without invitation, Feowen grabbed her hand and held it forward. "Let him sniff you first."

His hand was warm against hers. She dared not move. The unicorn lifted its head and sniffed her fingers before turning its attention to her palm. She giggled, the sound slipping from her lips before she could stop it. The whiskers and hairs around its mouth tickled.

"There. See?" Greeting finished, Feowen guided her hand to its coat, inviting her to copy him. He began along its neck, stroking the unicorn's hide with slow, languid movements.

She did the same and gasped. "He's softer than a horse!" The unicorn's sleek coat was more velvety than anything she had ever touched. Like an expensive fabric from her childhood days, back when she and her mother lived in Lincastle. That felt like an age ago—a dream more than a memory.