Chapter Forty-Two

CHAPTER

FORTY-TWO

_________

T HE ONLY THING PROPELLING MY brUISED, ACHING BODY through the icy forest is determination. I'll need at least two pots of tea to stop the icy, burning sensation in my throat, and a scalding bath to bring back the feeling in my toes. At this altitude, we're able to reach the Emer much quicker than we did on our journey into Imirath, but that does little to comfort me when haunting, beastly howls penetrate the otherwise silent forest.

We pause, and I bring my hands to my mouth to attempt to warm them. "I can try to summon the dragons again."

"It's best if we don't reveal our position. If they sent beasts after us, it means they lost the trail." Cayden steps closer to rub my arms, offering me some warmth from the friction. The beasts will be able to track our blood leaking from injuries. "We'll have to cross the Emer, but the bridges up here are in no condition to bear weight."

It could be a death sentence, especially once we enter the Etril. But we have no other option, and we always knew the journey back to Vareveth would come with limited options. Our lives have been built through hard decisions, never having the option of comfort or coddling. "I'd rather die fighting than waiting for the choice to be made for me," I say.

We begin running again, increasing our pace when the howls get louder. My bruises and severe temperatures are an agonizing combination, but at least I know my ribs aren't broken. The trees start to clear as a wide river looms before us, separating us and the eerie Etril. My breath flies away from me like a startled bird when the icy spray dots my cheeks.

"Don't let go," Cayden commands, taking his first step into the river and cursing through gritted teeth. I do the same and choke on a whimper.

He hops down the steep dropoff and the water rises to his chest, meaning it'll reach my shoulders if not higher. His shaking hands wrap around my waist, but rather than helping me down, he sets me on his right shoulder and begins trudging through the frigid water.

"Hold on." He tightens his arm around my legs. "That's an order, princess."

I do as he says, grasping the hilt of the sword strapped across his back, and finally admit to myself that there's a chip carved in the shape of his name within the walls I've built around myself. Something about him makes me feel alive, and like I've found the place I've been searching for without prematurely knowing my destination.

A reflection of a white, furry beast in the water catches my eye, and I turn my head to watch it sniff along the trees where we just were. It's as tall as a horse and far deadlier judging by the fangs hanging out of its mouth that drip venom and the unnerving milky-white pupils that make it look possessed.

"Cayden, put me down," I whisper, but either he can't hear me over the river, or he refuses. "We need to hide from a beast."

The beast will see us if we exit the river, and this entire trek will have been for nothing. I won't let him die for the sake of protecting me from the cold, and jam my foot into his chest. The sudden pain throws him off kilter and the icy water surrounds me. I choke beneath the surface, swallowing a mouthful as I try to wake my frozen reflexes. The water pierces my body with thousands of little needles, slicing every inch and driving me to madness.

"Fucking gods, woman. Are you suicidal?" he seethes, wrapping my body around his and shoving my face into his neck.

"H-h-hide."

He changes our position, offering the current his back and finding shelter behind a cluster of rocks. Our bodies tremble together, his more so now that we're immobile and both soaked.

"I was going to get you across to give you a lead." Even through his anger, there's tenderness and desperation. "Your head is wounded. The cold will amplify any dizziness you have."

"A lead?" My voice trembles. "To where?"

"Give me those pretty eyes, El." He runs a hand down my back and doesn't speak again until he's sure I understand him. "There's a village north of here. Keep running and don't look back."

I shake my head, tightening my hold around his neck. "Don't ask me to do something you wouldn't."

"I'll find you, always." His icy hand cups my cheek. "You have to keep going. Never let the flames that make you who you are burn out. You have your dragons, but all of this is empty for me without you."

I've told myself that he was a distraction for so many months, but distractions aren't supposed to keep me awake at night, wondering if he's okay. I'm not supposed to want to get lost in a distraction.

"I'm fighting with you or I'm fleeing with you, but I'm not leaving you." I press my forehead against his. "Throw a knife as far as you can to distract the beast, and we'll get to that village together."

I unwrap myself from him and find my footing on the rocky riverbed as the water rises above my shoulders. He removes a knife from his thigh, glaring at me in disbelief, like he both hates and adores the fact that I refuse to abandon him. He doesn't speak again and throws the knife, knowing that any further argument will prolong our time in the water. He laces his fingers through mine, and we wade out of the river as quickly as possible. My leg, head, and ribs throb, but I don't let it stop me from taking off into the Etril Forest.

"How far is the village?" I ask through chattering teeth, doing my best not to keel over.

"About five miles."

I don't stop to ask him how he knows of this mysterious village and prioritize getting there. If it were mapped, Ailliard would've taken me there when we fled Imirath. I rely on Cayden to lead me through the forest, especially when trees start blurring. It's no wonder why hardly anyone settles here or why it's rumored to be where the Goddess of Souls lived. The trees are in nearly perfect rows, and there are no signs of life, just the bitter wind whistling through the tallest trees I've ever seen.

A wave of dizziness hits me, and I stop to catch my balance by resting my hand on a trunk, not noticing the low-hanging branch that scrapes my wounded leg until it's too late. I close my eyes, doing my best to fend off the wobbly world.

"What's wrong, love?" Cayden murmurs, dropping to his knees before me, his fingers gently checking on my cut.

"Just a bit dizzy like we expected." I force my eyes open, letting out a surprised yelp when he scoops me into his arms and begins running again. "I can run. I'm better now."

"Body heat will help until we can get you into a bath," he replies. I snuggle closer, knowing I'd lose this battle just as he lost the battle in the river, and let him carry me the rest of the way through the forest.

We return to silence as he runs, and his heartbeat lulls me to a half-asleep state that I only resurface from when I hear a horse chuffing as we cross into the village. It's dilapidated and run-down. Warm light streams from small houses made of stone with thatched roofs, and other homes look as if they're uninhabitable. Snow dusts the village like powdered sugar on cakes, falling down from the sky where dragon silhouettes blend into the darkness. Cayden travels up the vacant dirt road, hard eyes fixated on the inn.

"How do you know about this place?"

"It's where I was born." His discomfort is visible and goes deeper than the cold. He hesitates but sets me down before we enter, and my knees weaken at the sudden blast of warmth. Tables and barstools are filled with people sipping from tankards and smoking pipes. Cayden catches the eye of the man behind the counter who tosses a towel over his burly shoulder and nods in our direction. "Go stand by the fire. I won't be long."

I step to the hearth and raise my shaking hands in front of me, trying not to crumple to get as close to the flames as possible. Heat trickles into my soaked boots and returns some feeling to my toes.

"I can keep you warm, darling," chimes a male voice from one of the tables. His friends slap him on the back and stare at him as if he hung the stars in the sky.

My lip curls. This is the second to last thing I want to deal with right now, the first being Imirath soldiers. "I don't think I could get past your stench."

"I do like them feisty." He gets to his feet while his friends watch in anticipation. I narrow my eyes and square my shoulders, ready to pelt him with another insult, but a pair of hands snake around my waist.

"As do I," Cayden states, staring the man down over my head. "Was he bothering you?"

"It was all in good fun." The man begins to back down.

"Is she laughing?" Cayden asks. "Make another pass at her again, and the last thing you'll see is a knife flying straight between your eyes. You should know I adore her violent streak and don't mind cleaning up her messes."

Cayden doesn't wait for a response before tugging my body away from the fire, up some steps, and into our room. It's simple and charming without much fuss or flair and only one bed that I force my eyes away from. The sound of splashing water comes from the bathing chamber as a servant prepares the bath Cayden must've ordered, and I stride toward the freshly lit fire. I begin undoing the clasps and ties on my leathers and nearly moan when the pressure is relieved from my bruises. Cayden does the same, taking it a step further, and removes his undershirt.

Gods, how the hells am I going to sleep beside him when he looks like that, and we don't have a change of clothes. My mind wonders what it will feel like to have his muscular frame pressed against me as I untie my boots, but the fluttering in my belly is soon replaced by irritation when the servant exits the washroom and gazes at Cayden with hearts in her eyes. I get to my feet and angle my body in front of his, and he doesn't hide his smile as he caresses my hips.

She tears her eyes away and shuffles to the door, muttering, "I'm off for the night and nobody else is here to heat more water. The pitcher on the counter is filled for morning washings."

"You're first, demon," I say.

"Not a chance. I'll throw you in the tub if I must, and I won't be gentle."

"I don't want you to be." My breathing catches in my throat when I notice how he pauses while undoing the laces on his boots. "I'll get in if you get in with me."

He looks up at me, and I wonder if he's recalling the other occasions he's knelt for me. "You're sure?"

I'm burning for him despite the cold. "Yes."