“You’re not lowly. And you know that’s not what I meant.” He drags his hair off his forehead, showing off his strong brows and perfectly chiseled jawline.
If it weren’t for the stiffness in Callum’s shoulders, I might be distracted with how breathtaking he looks tonight as snow quietly falls around him. But his teeth clench, and I sense something heavy on his mind.
I pause, snow thickening as he turns to face me. “There’s been another rebel sighting in the village, hasn’t there?”
“Yes,” he whispers, even if there is no one around to hear us.
“Then let the guard that replaced you deal with it, Callum.” I shake my head. “You’ve already been here too long. The Beating?—”
“Is the least of my concerns.” Callum snags my arm and pulls me into an alcove to block us from the falling snow. “Especially when you ignore me the moment I’m gone. What did I tell you about leaving the safety of the village, Elorie? I made sure you had more than enough food before I went back to the Ley Court.”
“Father can’t withstand another bout of sickness after the last one nearly killed him. He’ll get worse on grain alone.”
Callum knows I’m right, whether he resists it or not. Every sweep of disease through Alyssium draws Father closer to that brink. His already frail body won’t last without nutrients.
“Well, I’m back now. Let me help.”
I pull off my hood, shaking the snow loose to look up at him. “I can take care of my father. You need to help yourself before your heartbeats catch up with both of us. I can’t lose you too.”
The thought has my eyes burning. My ribs aching with every breath.
Death is the only constant on this cold, dead land, and there’s no acclimating. There’s only grief taking one slice at a time until disease isn’t the problem.
The loss of hope is.
Callum steps closer, shielding me from the elements. He smells like the sea breeze. Sunlight from a distant land. His cheeks are brighter than they were last time I saw him, and his eyes flare with the stir of magic.
I’ve often wondered what it’s like to watch him wield it. To see the wind twist and bend to his will. I suppose it’s better to not see some things. It’s hard enough denying this draw to Callum without witnessing the full magnificence of his power.
He squeezes my arm—small but comforting. “I’ve only returned for a few days. As soon as we find the rebels, I’ll be back in Ruse Village for two full turns of the moon. But you have to promise me no more pyres. No more going past the gates. No more recklessness. It will get you killed. I made a promise to your father?—”
“That you’d keep me safe. I know.” I cut him off, fighting the urge to roll my eyes because he’ll just see it as juvenile.
Which is what I am to Callum.
A responsibility. A burden. A girl he promised to look after because of his friendship with my father and his father.
A weak human with a frail body.
His loyalty to my bloodline doesn’t change what I am. A speck of flesh in his very long lifetime.
Once, I thought Callum saw me differently. That he saw me like I see him. But in my twenty-four years, he hasn’t acted on it. Proving I’m nothing more than a chore to him. An annoying human who gets him into trouble every time he sets foot on Alyssium.
Callum reaches for my hood, tugging it up over the crown of my head. He traces his fingers over the thin strip of fur that lines the edge, framing my face. His fingers pause to play with a loose strand, twining the silvery-blue tips of my snow-white hair between them. Blue is an unusual hair color for a human, and a constant reminder of the first death I was responsible for.
My mother fell ill while she was pregnant with me, and all that kept her alive until my birth was an extraordinarily strong tonic laced with morning glories. In the end, it wasn’t enough to save her. But I survived. Only, the tonic left me with strange blue ends to my hair.
Father makes me keep it hidden because he says it will draw unwanted attention from the Fae. I thought that was an exaggeration until I learned the hard way it wasn’t. Now, I’m careful to keep my hair braided and tucked back so it appears to be only white.
“Let’s go.” Callum lets my hair slip through his fingers as he pulls me into the throes of the blizzard.
He’s quiet the rest of the way to my home, but every time I look up at him, I sense so much brewing in his eyes.
I’ve often wondered what it’s like for him to spend centuries watching generations of humans grow old and die. His homeland is battered by war, but even the constant fight must be better than this. At least with war, there is hope in winning. There is the possibility that there will be an end to the battle.
That is, if he survives.
The thought of losing Callum sends a chill through me, so I shove the thought aside and focus on the snow starting to carpet our path. On my frozen toes, slowly numbing like my fingers.
