THE SPY
When I finally emerged from a dreamless sleep, the comforting weight of Dom’s arms was the first thing I sensed. He was warm, his chest swelling with inhales at my back. Alive.
The second thing I noted with certainty was that Dom was awake, and a smile inched its way across my face. I tried to turn toward him, but he tightened his grip, preventing any movement, keeping me caged and close. My thigh protested in a shot of pain at my half-hearted attempt. I relented, allowing myself to relax in the incandescence of our ice nest, giving myself this small moment to feel a sliver of peace and calm. We made it through the night.
As the early glow of morning illuminated the milky blue walls of our cavern, the movement of hundreds of fish brought flashes of light dancing around us. I glanced back at Dom as he too sat enthralled by the strobing silvers and pinks. Shadows and light flitted around us like luminescent butterflies. His eyes roved to mine and he stilled.
“Your hair. It’s pink.”
Hells. “Your observational skills. They’re masterful.”
He offered a half-hearted glare. “Xuri's mom, Ilayah, had a vision where the one who would find the cure for my curse had hair the color of lilac peonies. That is almost the shade of yours.” He reached out to touch my hair but I started backward. He dropped his hand a few inches.
“My mother taught me early how to hide my hair. I have never heard of anyone else having such a reprehensible shade of springtime hair.” Maybe I could get some coracite from the apothecary in Vorkut. The salt water must have stripped the color faster than normal.
“Did your mother ever tell you why you had to hide the color of your hair?”
“She didn’t. But she made me promise to never reveal it to anyone.”
“But you told me.” He quirked his head. I startled again as Dom reached forward to touch a few strands between his fingers, but forced myself to still. He clearly couldn’t resist. I just needed a warning to calm the alarms that tended to sound when I received unexpected touch, especially with my hair. “It has been said that those born with this are blessed by the gods.” I scoffed as he stepped away from me, pausing. “Why does it feel like my curse was pushed back?”
I stood to stretch, letting my nerves recognize Dom was no threat. Exposing the color of my hair almost felt more vulnerable than my confession the previous night. Almost. “I wasn’t sure what to do when you passed out. I remembered how you helped me by clotting my blood, and I wondered if my magic could dilute the poison in yours.”
“Thank you.” The sentiment was solemn and filled with a fragile hope. But then his face shuttered, a mask of neutrality taking over. I could feel a distance forming between us. Despite our kiss and the previous night’s declarations, awkwardnesssettled. Did he regret what happened? Did the reality of my confession finally hit him? The rejection left me dizzy. I would feel the true pain later.
I quickly put my clothes back on, the lavender silk a poor protection against the chill of glacier ice. I retied the tourniquet around my thigh. The wound ached, but the support of the tied cloth lessened the weakness in my leg.
“We need to get to Vorkut today.” He offered me some of the food from the Nereid realm. “Bowen will be waiting with my tonic. And we’ll have to find Delah’s connection quickly.”
I nodded in between mouthfuls of chewy fish, gnawing on it just enough to swallow it down without gagging. As I ate, he pulled his own tunic and leathers back on. He affixed his cloak and gently draped mine across my shoulders.
After finishing our humble breakfast, we secured our belongings and prepared to head to Vorkut. Whatever last night had been left an uncomfortable flavor to our interactions. I kept to myself. I understood his response. It was a risk to share the truth, and it didn’t pay off. I bit the inside of my cheek, the blood a warm distraction from the ache growing inside me.
My leg had lost some of its throbbing pain, and I could walk without assistance as we hiked upward toward the cave’s entrance back into the exposure of the glacial hinterlands.
Leaving our sequestered hideaway, we silently trekked toward the small town of Vorkut, away from the char-encrusted landscape north of us. The skies remained void of Nokts, a small blessing.
Wind whipped at my hair, stinging my eyes. Dom remained quiet and hesitant with me. It made my anxiety buzz like ants beneath my skin. Abruptly, he turned toward me.
Haunted eyes searched me. “You know I’m dying, Rue. I shouldn’t have given in to my desire for you. I’ve always known my end. It isn’t fair to you.” I blinked at him, trying to readthrough his words. He turned around and resumed his march toward Vorkut.
I stared open-mouthed at his retreating back. Anger fumed within me. I could smell his cowardice and it incited me. I hurried to catch up, my thigh stinging in a rope of pain with every bit of force I put on it.
I snagged his arm, breathlessly casting out an ill-thought-through barrage of words, “So you want to shut me out. I get it. Why try to live if you’re just going to die? But don’t you dare use me as an excuse to keep yourself in some sort of self-righteous prison.”
He stopped short, causing me to trip and throw out a curse upon the uneven terrain. He gently gripped my arm, steadying me.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, clenching his eyes shut, searching for patience or restraint or another opportunity to distance himself from me. As if he didn’t know about the prisons I had been kept in. About the prisons I’m still trying to break out of.
“Li, it isn’t wise to open this door when it will likely cause us both great pain.” Gods, it was about protection. I inhaled. Not rejection.
“Let me make that choice for myself,” I whispered, stepping closer. I had to tilt my head up to maintain his gaze. His towering frame swallowed me in shadow.
His jaw clenched, a muscle feathering as he did so. I waited for his rebuttal as he took a breath through parted lips. The power in my veins surged, as if it could leap out and straddle him in the middle of this barren tundra, forcing him to choose something. To choose me. Traitorous magic.
He stared at the horizon, appearing tortured and conflicted. Longing flashed in the golden flecks of his eyes when he finally returned to my expectant stare. I bit my bottom lip, not trustingmyself. Craving unfurled from the depths of my soul and he was the object of its relief.
Without a word, he turned on his heel stalking away from me. My shoulders sagged, now burdened with the weight of disappointment, embarrassment, and confusing unfulfillment. The locks on my shields clicked back together. One at a time, they snapped into place, creating that familiar barrier. Even if it did feel like the armor was becoming too small for me to wear. But I didn’t know another way to protect the fragile parts of me.
