He was more than just a hulking behemoth with a reputation for violence. He was an absolute ass.
Frost leaked from my hands, spreading across the already ice-drenched snow at my feet. “I did not ask for this.”
I’d saved his life and beenrewardedwith a Lifebind. Which meant that until he repaid the favor and saved my life in turn, his life depended upon mine. If I died, he died.
That sounded a lot more like his problem than mine. I whipped away from him—wishing I still had my cloak for dramatic effect—and stomped toward the edge of the meadow. The Justice Gate was northeast. Time to start walking.
“You didn’t choose the gift from your Dark God, either.”
Three hundred and seventy-seven years of mostly-failed practice in self-control was the only thing that kept my hand at my side, instead of lifted to my forehead. Or swinging around to connect with his face.
No. I had not chosen to be resurrected as a witch. But Garrick-the-fucking-Red was not entitled to any of my thoughts or feelings on that.
“This,” I scowled at my wrist as I shoved my glove back over the blasted mark, “changes nothing. Stay away from me.”
He was behind me too fast, his movements over the snow so quiet they defied reality. His fingers curled around my wrist, pain searing up my arm as he tightened his grip around the bruises he’d left behind when I’d foolishly saved his life.
I thrashed against him, but he spun me easily, dragging me up so that my face was mere inches from his and we were forced to share breath.
“On the contrary, Koryn. I think you will find that this changeseverythingfor us.”
PART II
JUSTICE
They walk the path of pride to wrath,
But justice does not sleep?—
For every act, a price is set,
For every wound, the judgment deep.
CHAPTER 18
More than halfof the day had already elapsed by the time I exited the frozen meadow and started northeast. The gates distorted time. Another new fact that the rumors had always missed. If we’d set out early enough, we might have made it to the temple at the Justice Gate by nightfall. As it was, we were all stuck spending the night in the dark, frozen wood.
Maybe the cold night would do me a favor and pick off another one of the supplicants. Rilk had been in bad shape before the Mercy Gate. If I was suffering, so was he, and I had a lot more meat on my body to keep me warm.
Even though I’d been the first to start out, I let all the other supplicants pass me early on, Nimra included. She gave me a wide berth and avoided meeting my eyes. I’d revealed my power. That was enough for even the friendliest of the others to keep their distance.
More than fine with me. I would rather keep them in my sights than risk someone coming from behind and stabbing a knife into my back. Even if it meant I was the last one to arrive at the temple.
Garrick surprised me when he passed me by, just like the others. He disappeared into the woods ahead of me, seeminglyunbothered by the exertion of the Mercy Gate. Bastard. Maybe my power had been enough to unnerve him, too, despite his dramatic threats.
I pretended that the bruises he’d left on my arm didn’t bring me right back—not to the Mercy Gate, but to the moment he’d dragged me up close enough to share breath. I also spent most of the afternoon ignoring the heat that had coiled low in my belly in that moment, with his mouth only inches from mine.
But as I settled myself into the hollow created by a tangle of tree roots, I let the memory come back.
The barest stubble kissed his chin, so pale that it could have been a dusting of my frost. What would it feel like against my skin? Would it be warm like the heat that spread from his hand through my arm, or cool from the frigid air around us?
The Mercy Gate had claimed my cloak. The cold would keep me from sleeping well, and I’d need all of my strength to face the next gate. Bathing in the memory of Garrick’s breath skittering across my cheeks and into the sensitive space where my ears met my neck was an act of self-preservation. It would keep me warm.
Maybe I should have let Garrick protect me. That was no doubt what he wanted—to keep me alive, now that his life depended upon mine.A Lifebind.In four hundred years, I’d never met someone who’d received one. They were as much a thing of legend as the gates themselves.
But the legends of Velora were becoming more real with every passing breath.
It was not Garrick’s protection that flooded my mind as I settled deeper into the hollow. I imagined the hard curves of wood were the rigid lines of his body, wrapping around me. Not just protection, but warmth. Safety. Things that had eluded me for a very long time.
