She groaned. ‘I can’t believe I did that.’
‘You really aresounruly.’ The more she fretted, the harder Alarik laughed. This little interlude had done wonders to brighten his mood. He hadn’t realized just how badly he had been missing her company; her smile, her wit, her gentle recklessness. ‘What am I going to do with you?’
‘Please don’t send me away!’
‘You’re the one trying to flee!’
He took her hands and gently tugged them away from her face, repeating a gesture that had become all too familiar between them. Whenever she tried to hide herself from him, he yearned to look at her even more, to feast on whatever emotion was brewing the storm in her eyes. But when he uncovered her face this time, she was crying.
His gut twisted, and before he could stop himself, he was cradling her face and swiping the tears from her cheeks. ‘Why are you crying, wildling?’
‘Because I’m an awful person!’
‘Well, you’re certainly dramatic.’ He chuckled, softly. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen your eyes so blue.’
She sniffed. ‘They only go blue when I cry.’
Another twist in his gut. ‘Then I prefer the storm.’
Give me back the storm.
He wanted her smiling. Or scowling. Or singing. Or bossing him about.Or talking about his beasts with the kind of enthusiasm that made her words trip and her cheeks flush. He couldn’t stand the sight of her crying.
‘Listen, Iversen. I need your help,’ he said, in a low, urgent voice.
She stilled, blinking up at him.
‘It requires the utmost stealth.’
‘What do you need?’ Her tears forgotten, she squared her shoulders.
Alarik bit back his smile. ‘I intend to launch a covert assault on my mother’s steward.’
She gasped in horror. A marginal improvement on devastation, but not quite what he was going for.
‘Relax, I’m not going to murder him. This is a brand-new coat. Do you know how hard it is to get bloodstains out?’ He knelt to gather another fistful of snow. ‘I just want to lightly pummel him. Now that I know how good your throwing arm is, I insist you help me. Unless you want to spend the rest of your morning helping me pour over napkin swatches.’
‘I’d rather eat an elderberry tree.’ She blew out a breath, grinning as she knelt beside him, making two snowballs of her own and carefully shoving them into her pockets. ‘This is the kind of war I can get behind.’
‘I’ll make a soldier of you yet.’
‘Don’t hold your breath.’ She winked as she slipped a ball into his pocket. The storm had returned to her eyes. It nearly made him throw caution to the wind and kiss her right there beneath the elderberry trees. But he knew if he got a taste of her lips, he would never stop seeking them, and the spiral of his need would consume him, destroying his friendship with Tor,his alliance with Halgard, and most importantly of all, the bond he had found with his wrangler. A bond that nourished a most vital part of his soul.
After all, how could she ever love a war-hungry brute like him?
Armed to the teeth with snowballs, they stalked out of the orchard and made for the fountain, where Lief was still boring the life out of Elva.
‘Ready?’ said Alarik, taking aim.
His wrangler was already running, her laughter flying out behind her as the first snowball flew. Alarik bolted after her, both of them tearing across the lawn like a pair of naughty children, leaving all thoughts of war and grief behind them.
CHAPTER 26
Greta
Greta was outside in the arena, working the ice bears in their newly fitted battle armour when Aren arrived, carrying two mugs of fragrant hot chocolate. The falconer was wearing a woolly hat and scarf over his uniform, and his nose was nipped pink.
‘Pardon the interruption,’ he called, in his usual chirpy voice. ‘It’s freezing out this morning. I figured you might need something to warm you up.’
