Finnvid peered anxiously into the forest, but could barely see the trees a few paces ahead of him. He stumbled forward, wading through hip-high drifts in places that had been almost free of snow when they’d made camp.
Theos. Finnvid tried to focus on the man’s name, tried to picture him in his mind and send the thought out like a beacon, guiding the man safely back through the storm. Then he stepped further into the woods.
The trees cut the wind a little. The branches caught some of the snow, but much of it still landed on the ground. “Theos!” Finnvid yelled. The wind would carry his voice away from camp, into the forest. “We’re here! Theos!”
It felt pointless. Itwaspointless. The forest was vast, the storm fierce, and neither Finnvid’s mental beacon nor his feeble voice was enough to shine any light into the darkness.
Except . . . except there was movement ahead of him. A dark shape against the white snow, moving slowly, but steadily, wading through the drifts. From the shape, it could have been an angry bear startled out of hibernation by Finnvid’s racket, but he knew the way Theos moved, even when burdened. “Theos!” he yelled, and the shape changed course and came toward him.
The Sacrati had a deer slung across his shoulders. Of course his hunt had been successful. Of course he’d returned safely to camp. Finnvid felt foolish for doubting it.
Suddenly Theos stumbled and fell, catching himself on one hand and staying there as if frozen. Too exhausted to pull himself to his feet.
Finnvid lurched forward to meet him. He dragged the deer off the man’s shoulders and then fell to his own knees, bringing their faces to the same level. “It’s only a few more steps,” he promised. “The camp is close. You can smell the smoke. Right?”
Theos’s eyes were dark and fixed on Finnvid’s, and his mitten-covered hands grasped Finnvid’s arms. “I can smellyou.”
Something changed. Finnvid stopped caring about survival; it seemed like a petty concern compared to the heat in his gut. He nodded, eyes wide.
Theos shifted, somehow, falling forward, too heavy for Finnvid to catch and hold, and they tumbled into the snow together, Finnvid’s legs bent painfully, Theos flat on top of him. Had the man passed out?
But then Theos moved. His leg found its way between Finnvid’s, and his cheek, ice-cold and covered with frozen stubble, brushed against Finnvid’s almost-as-chilled face. Finnvid squirmed, wriggling just enough to straighten, and Theos responded by pushing his weight down, holding Finnvid in place. He’d thought Finnvid was trying to escape, and he’d stopped it.
Theos’s power, even when diminished by exhaustion, was too much for Finnvid. Whatever the Sacrati wanted? It was going to happen. Finnvid was at his mercy.
Chapter Nineteen
Finnvid lay in the snow, staring up at the shadowy face of the man holding him down. A brutish, angry Torian had attacked him. Out here in the forest, away from any help, where it would be easy to hide his body. Finnvid was pinned, and even if he’d been able to get free, he couldn’t outrun his attacker, and certainly couldn’t outfight him.
And yet, he was not afraid. Nervous, maybe, but not afraid. This wasTheos, and that meant Finnvid was safe. He wasn’t even cold anymore, not with the snow puffed up beside them to block the wind and with Theos’s body on top of him. He brought his hands up, wishing he could take off the bulky mittens, and grabbed the back of Theos’s head.
He saw the flash of shock in the Sacrati’s eyes, and then things happened too quickly to truly understand. Theos’s lips, hard and chapped against Finnvid’s, and then his tongue, the first taste of warmth Finnvid had felt in far too long. A desperate, hungry sound, half-growl and half-moan, ripped from Theos’s throat and was lost in the wind before Finnvid had time to fully cherish it. Theos’s hands held Finnvid’s unresisting shoulders, and Theos’s body pushed and drove and rutted against Finnvid’s, the tension and hardness and need clear even through all the layers of clothing.
Finnvid arched up to meet the sensations, then fought one leg free so he could wrap it around Theos’s thighs and pull him in tighter. There were no thoughts, no plans, no attempts to shed clothing. There were only their bodies, their mouths, and more than anything, their eyes. They stared at each other and Finnvid saw it all. Theos’s anger, his frustration, his desire. His need and his want. Finnvid saw Theos’s excitement building, and it spread easily to his own body. There shouldn’t have been enough contact, enough friction, but this wasTheos.
Finnvid moaned into Theos’s mouth, clawed at his back with ineffective hands, and he begged, almost chanted, “Please. Theos, please. Theos, Theos. Please.”
Theos didn’t reply in words, but his grunts and gasps were an answer for Finnvid. They came together, both of them throwing back their heads and finally letting their eyes shut in ecstasy.
Even after he calmed, Finnvid didn’t want to move. He wanted to stay there in the snow forever, with Theos a comforting, essential weight on top of him. It didn’t matter if they both froze to death; their bodies could be found in the springtime, still wrapped around each other, and hopefully they’d be buried together so this embrace never had to end.
Fortunately for both of them, Theos was more practical. He eased backward, careful of his weight, and pulled himself up until he was kneeling, gazing down at Finnvid. And from that angle, Finnvid had a clear view as Theos’s expression changed. In a matter of seconds it went from open and relaxed and affectionate to confused and almost alarmed. Then it settled on sardonic.
“What were you trying to distract me from this time?” he asked quietly. “Have your men stolen the deer while we were busy? Is there murder and mayhem back at camp, and you didn’t want me to interrupt?”
Finnvid supposed he deserved that. Heknewhe deserved it. But Theos was hardly an innocent victim. “I’m sorry. I guess the habits of slavery die hard. After months of being treated like property and expected to care about your every whim, I guess I was still inclined toserveyou.”
“I don’t remember you caring about myeverywhim,” Theos replied. He staggered to his feet, clearly not past his exhaustion, but just as clearly ready to get away from Finnvid and back to camp. He looked down at Finnvid and rubbed his own crotch in distaste. “I need to do some laundry while we’re stopped. I hope the storm lasts long enough for things to dry, but even if it doesn’t, I’d rather wear something damp than something that reminds me of my stupidity with every step.”
The hard words hurt, but Finnvid refused to show the sting. “How unexpectedly poetic you are. A treatise on washing seed out of clothing. Of course, I suppose you’d be the expert on that sort of thing.”
“Most of my seed finds more receptive homes.” Theos turned and nudged the deer with his foot, then sneered at Finnvid. “Carry that in, why don’t you? There may as well besomethingproductive to come from your little trip into the woods.” He took a step toward camp, then stopped and squinted. “Whatwereyou doing out here? What kind of spying happens in the middle of a blizzard?”
Finnvid wanted to lie, but he wanted to tell the truth more. “I was looking for you. I wasworriedabout you.” He struggled to his feet. “So you’re not the only one feeling foolish.” He took his own step toward camp and then spun to say, “You can carry your own stupid deer.”
Petty, maybe, but he didn’t care. He made his way back to camp, the dampness of his underclothes quickly cooling into an uncomfortable mess, and tried to understand what had happened.
It had been nothing. Clearly that was true for Theos, and so it should be true for Finnvid as well.
