‘Stay with me, Greta,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘It’s over now. We’re going home.’
CHAPTER 32
Greta
The darkness was speaking to Greta. It whispered her name and stroked her hair, gently coaxing her back to life. But she was so comfortable here in the in-between, far from the clamour of battle and the metallic tang of blood. Away from the dying howls of beasts and the horror of corpses rolling down the mountainside. She remembered the war in fleeting bursts, the shrieking echo of that terrible horn pushing into the blackness of her mind. Then there was the giant with violent eyes and steel teeth, and the hard slap of earth rising to meet her.
She groaned, trying to shove it all away.
That voice came again, soft against the shell of her ear. ‘It’s all right, wildling. I’ve got you.’
Strong arms cradled her against a warm chest. She turned her face into it, inhaling a lungful of woodsmoke and pine. The scent drew a languid sigh from her, lulling her back to sleep. To peace.
‘That’s it, Greta. Rest a while.’
Sometime later, she stirred at a howl of wind. The world was rattling, her body jerking. Dimly, she was aware that she was in a sled,riding fast and hard across the frozen earth. Cold wind lashed her face while snowflakes gathered in her hair. Her teeth began to chatter, and those strong arms shifted, covering her with a fur blanket.
The world dropped away again, taking the blizzard with it. But her protector remained, holding her tightly like he was afraid the wind might sweep her away.
Whowashe? The answer floated at the edge of her mind, like a snowflake. She was too tired to catch it. Too tired to think at all …
Greta gave herself back to the darkness, only stirring to drink from the waterskin that was pressed to her lips every so often. As the hours wore on, she began to hear voices, ones she recognized but couldn’t place, and beyond them, the familiar keening of her beasts.
Home, she told herself.
I am going home.
But in the rippling dark, she couldn’t remember where home was.
After an eternity in the windswept wilderness, the cold died away, and a luxurious warmth settled over Greta. As a rogue slant of dawn light danced across her face, she blinked herself awake, trying to clear the fog from her mind. A high, corniced ceiling blurred in and out of focus, making her frown. Where was she?
Far from the Blackspires, and the sled that had whisked her away from there. The heavy silence told her she was no longer near the other soldiers, or her beloved beasts.
Although she sensed one nearby. Watching her.
She rolled her head around. She was lying on a pillow cased in silk. There were blankets tucked up to her chin,each one lined in fur and piled so high, she couldn’t see over them.
This was not her bedroom.
Something stirred at the foot of her bed. The soft padding of paws announced the arrival of a sleek silver wolf, who curled up next to her.
‘Hello, darling,’ she murmured. She tried to place the beautiful creature. She hadn’t trained her before, but she recognized those large golden eyes. They were wise and gentle, the relaxed hum of her spirit setting her at ease. ‘Have you been looking after me?’
‘I’d call it more of a joint effort.’ Greta stared at the wolf, her mind so addled she wondered if it really was talking to her. Butno, she knew that voice …
‘Alarik?’ she croaked, uncertainly.
‘Over here, wrangler.’
Swiftly tumbling back to her senses, Greta shoved the blankets away and sat up to find herself in the fanciest room she’d ever seen.
‘This isn’t my bed.’
‘I know.’ The king of Gevra was standing, arms folded, at the foot of it. ‘It’s mine.’
Greta let out a strangled cry of alarm as the world shifted into sharp, searing focus. She looked down at herself, expecting to see her scuffed uniform and stained battle armour, but she was instead wearing a pale blue nightgown finer than everything she owned, and a pair of socks that felt like warm, woolly clouds.
She looked up at the king in dawning horror. He was dressed casually in low-slung trousers and a plain black vest. His hair was damp, and his feet were bare, as though he had just finished bathing.There was a fresh cut along his jaw, and a nasty bruise marring his left cheek.
