Boreas. Fucking. Freeze me.
I’m a Fae from Ice, but would willingly let Pyrona burn me just to see this sight once.
Her face, striking—the kind that brings you to your knees. Her big brown eyes, endless, protected by thick, long lashes. Sometimes I moved closer just to see her look at me from beneath them. And her pretty little mouth, blessed with those heart-shaped plump lips…and her olive skin—I had never seen so much of it.
Before this moment, I hadn’t noticed how tiny her waist was. Albeit thin—presuming due to malnourishment—her hips remained, and with that worn underdress, soaked, I could see all of that. I could not see what I very much liked to lick, but with the light shining through the windows behind her, I could see her shape. And I could tell that where her inner thighs met, a hollow gap formed right below her…Shit! I was looking at her like she was a piece of meat.
So I looked elsewhere, only to find myself seeing more of her. Too much of her—or perhaps not nearly enough.
“My god, let it beher,” I prayed silently to Boreas.
That wish made me realise that whileIwas on the brink of crawling towards her, begging her to letmebe her only family, then beg her to let me lick her, she—she thought me so cruel. She was even willing to bargain for her. That was what stopped me. I couldn’t let her see just yet. I had to atone first, for how I had treated her. I told her that I wouldn’t bargain because of her mare, but it was truly because of her. I suspected she saw right through me.
That same night, I went back to Semuel’s stable and healed her mare. Then I warded the whole place. I wanted to tell her.I really wanted to, but I swore to my brother, to others, that I would not expose my healing powers. We wanted it to be kept hidden—hidden from the Naaris, in case we would need its use in desperate times. Not that it was much when it came to Elemental Flames. And despite my wish to see her smile once, a big, genuine smile that I had not yet seen, I didn’t tell her.
Before I left, I noticed that the hay storage was running low.
AEGIR
PROMISES, PROMISES
The sharp tang of iron hit me the second I entered my room.Blood.
I found her with reddened and puffed eyes, curled at the bedside—bloodied, bruised, and beaten. My chest achedsomuch, I thought my heart was going to freeze on me. And that’s when what I had long hoped for, what I had begged my god for, at times suspected, finally kicked in—striking within me like lightning does to a solemn tree.
Mine.
Mine.
MINE!
My gelid heart had me sinking to my knees. As did my aching soul. It was indescribable, the way it tossed—it felt like an ensnared eagle that flipped and ruffled its wings in desperation to free itself—itimploredme to rip apart whoever did this to her.
I really, really wanted to heal her. To brush my hands with the gentleness of a feather’s touch along every inch of her beautiful body. To kiss all of her pain away. To rid her of its memory, and instead replace it with something entirely different. But I was so afraid to touch her, I only allowed myself to cover her and to heal her head, just as she had asked me to.
I knew I had to kill him, of course, there was no doubt in that. My soul was threatening to tear itself out through my chestif I didn’t, but when she touched my hand and told me to stay, it…calmed.My soulbound.And so I stayed.
I stayed until I was certain she was deep asleep, safe, her head resting.
I slipped into his room, locked the door behind me and set a sound barrier in place. I found him sitting at his dresser, a wet, bloodstained cloth to his face. His nose looked broken.Good girl.
He stiffened in place. He knew what was coming for him.
When I followed his disgusting scent earlier, I imagined what hers would smell like if she were to have one. I imagined it to be fresh and floral, like fields of ballerina lavender that thrive near sea spray. I wished I could swap—her scent for his—but now, now that my soul drowned and gorged on the scent of his terror, I might have to reconsider.
“Lord Hailin,” he croaked. The look on his bloodied face mirrored his scent. “Now is not a very good time for me. If you need something, I’ll send one of our servants to your room.”
“But nowisthe perfect time,” I assured him, taking slow steps towards him. My stare alone pinned him to his chair. I knew he could feel it as I got closer and closer—death.
I was never more grateful for my ability to conceal sounds. I would have hated it, having to stuff his mouth to stifle his screams. I wanted to hear all of them—each and every one. The thought alone almost made me shiver.
I clutched his neck, clenched my fist around his throat, just like he had done to her. I had to restrain myself not to kill him just yet—it would have been so easy to just snap his neck—hedidn’t deserve easy. And so I was forced to redirect some of my anger, to let some of it spill. I bellowed a wild, growled roar that made the floors and the walls quake. His eyes snapped wide just as his feet lifted off the floor.
“You shouldn’t have touched what’smine!” I swore that it was my soul that bellowed those words. I never sounded more bloodthirsty.
Only weak gurgles came out of his mouth.
I reached for his belt with my free arm and snapped it off from around his belly, then placed it on the dresser. Then I shoved him back onto his chair, my hand never leaving his throat. He tried—he tried so hard to free himself, scrabbling at my arm, like a little mouse trying to fight off the strong talons of an eagle. He was not even close to flinching the son of a Fae and a Strongman.
