38

A Gift for the Bride

As I lace up my boots, thoughts about what is going to happen on this hunt scatter through my mind. Excitement and fear are taking turns in my stomach at the thought of spending time with Jerrick, riding a horse, and practicing my magic in the open.

While I can admire my own improvements, I still struggle to rein in enough focus to mind my emotions and concentrate on my magic.

My thoughts drift to when I first came to Palaena, how frost would prickle along my skin and refuse to settle. I struggled to be aware of the flicker of power within me and would question everything, but I couldn't stop it.

And then Jerrick kissed me, using his magic and blending it with mine.

It warmed me—and utterly consumed me.

I clench my thighs at the thought of spending time alone with him.

He hasn't stayed in my room since my nightmare, but every night he has escorted me back to my chambers, his presence remaining outside as if in waiting. And each time, I almost invite him in, only to cower away in fear… fear of ruining everything with him.

But I can't dwell on that.

Not with everything I am trying to fix and prevent.

I look up from my boots and adjust my tunic in the vanity, and then plait my hair.

Dorit loads up my satchel for the next few days. When she finishes, she turns to the wardrobe, pulling out a belt Jerrick had made for me, armed with the knives he had forged.

The knives were so beautiful I didn't want to take them on our trip, but Dorit suggested I should because we are hunting.

Tying off my plait, I stand from the vanity as Dorit reaches around, securing my belt into place.

"The daggers are beautiful," she says as she admires the handles.

"They are," I agree, humming at the memory of him delivering them last night.

Touching the silver beaded hilt sprinkled with blue sapphires in swirls, my heart tugs at the comment he made when delivering them.

They match your eyes, he told me.

Our eyes, I wanted to say back to him in that moment.

Fuck, I really almost lost my resolve then. I can't stop the blush from gracing my cheeks.

Dorit's smirks.

I cross my arms, arching a brow. "What's that face for?"

She tightens her lip, stifling her chuckles.

I roll my eyes. "It's not what you think."

"I never said anything," she teases through her giggles.

"They were a nice gift."

"Mm-hmm."

I exhale and glance around the room once more, savoring the comforts of being indoors versus hunting in the woods. "Alright, well, thank you for your help."

I walk to my bed, my hands running over the sheets I'll be without for the next few days. Tension coils in my back, a phantom pain pinching near my shoulder blade.

It's a few days in the woods, Tove. You've survived once, you'll survive again.

I remind myself that Jerrick will be with me. Knowing I won't be venturing into the forest injured like last time is most reassuring. I pick up my satchel and give Dorit a hug.

She whispers, "Be safe and good luck."

I sigh into our embrace, half disbelieving I am willingly going on a hunting trip. I break away before I lose my courage.

When I reach the stables, Jerrick has one horse saddled, and a sense of relief rises, grateful he isn't pushing to teach me how to ride on top of hunting. Yet my stomach churns because we'll be sitting together on one horse.

Jerrick's hair is tied into a low bun, small waves too short to be held cover his features.

My mouth runs dry at the sight of him, and I bite my lip, preparing to not say or do anything stupid. Approaching, I notice the two knives, a sword, and a bow draped over his chest.

"Well, don't you look dressed for a battle?" I tease.

I internally cringe at my poor wording, hating the immediate thoughts of what a battle would look like here. Sweet Makers, what is wrong with me?

I walk up to the horse and offer my hand for him to sniff, anything to distract and drown out my never-ending thoughts.

The steed huffs quickly, moving his head to me. I stumble, and Jerrick jerks toward me.

He helps steady me as I laugh breathlessly, the animal relenting enough to huff again into my palm. I run my hands over the beast's black coat, the mind-numbing movement and steady presence of Jerrick reassuring and quietening my thoughts.

I peer up at Jerrick, and he answers my question with a half-smile. "You never know what you might run into."

My features slacken, and I grab my satchel tighter for support.

Jerrick smiles as he dips down and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes at the contact of his lips for a moment, slowly opening them only to stare back into his softened blue irises.

"Don't worry," he reassures teasingly, letting go of my hips and lifting my satchel over my head, strapping it to the horse.

He mounts up on the horse, and I cannot help but worry of getting hurt again. When Jerrick extends his hand, I stare at it, licking my lips in contemplation.

Do I really want to do this?

I look back at the castle, trying to ease the thoughts of being mauled by a bear or attacked by a mountain lion.

Could there be anything worse than that?

Fiddling with my hair, I exhale and raise a brow at Jerrick. "I'm not going to get shot again, am I?"

His laugh catches me off guard, and my apprehension deflates a little. Jerrick stretches his hand further. "I won't let anything happen to you. That, I guarantee, wife."

Wife.

His words ease my discomfort, and I gulp down air, bracing for a change of scenery.

I take Jerrick's hand and lift to mount.

His lips tickle near my ear when I rest in front of him, heat warming my back and pulling me to the night we spent together. His hands reach around my stomach, easing me further into him.

I rest my head in the crook of his neck as the softest of breezes kisses my skin.

I clench my thighs in protest, relaxing them only for his breath to warm the entire side of my neck as he says, "I've got you." Jerrick motions for our steed to take off.

As we leave the castle, I am surprised when we change our direction from Yadir and Biala Forest into venturing north toward Thresborn Forest. With the Velkan Mountains coming more into view, the dread of returning to the woods didn't taunt me as we trekked into a new environment, allowing me a different perspective and appreciation for nature.

A breath of fresh air, as Jonas would call it.

The fresh smell of pine and moss linger near my nose, the mix of fallen leaves and Jerrick's scent has me smiling softly. We ride much of the trip in comfortable silence.

Every so often, he adjusts himself on the saddle, and I miss the seconds of his touch on my abdomen. And whenever we slow, he rubs my stomach in soft circles.

The worry and anxiety diminish the further we venture. I sway, taking in each tree we pass and listening to the chittering of all creatures. Even as nightfall spreads across the pinkened lavender sky above, I fall deeper into tranquility.

Jerrick eases the horse into a slower pace, scouting for a place to camp. He tugs on the reins lightly, guiding us to a space in between trees. When Jerrick dismounts and steals the warmth, a chill that should not be present in warmer months crashes against me.

My teeth chatter as Jerrick offers his hands, helping me dismount. When I touch the ground and I look up to thank him, I can't hide my tremors.

Jerrick takes my hands and blows into them. His lips touch the inside of my palms, sending a fire scorching down to my core. He watches me and my mouth runs dry as he sends more heat into my hands, checking to see the shakes cease.

Memories surface of the last time he touched me and set my body ablaze.

"Feeling warmer yet, Frostbite?"

The same question he asked me all those months ago, changing each time he's voiced it. Yet instead of anger I felt from that first time, there is something else.

His thoughtfulness and efforts warm me a little, so I nod slowly.

He smiles, only to pull away and remove all warmth again.

Jerrick scans our surroundings. "Stay with the horse. I'm going to make a fire."

He looks for dry branches as tremors greet me again. Feeling too awkward to speak, I hug myself in hopes of giving myself the same warmth Jerrick did. Trying to be helpful, I take the horse's reins, bringing him near the campsite.

As Jerrick feeds the fire, I wrap the reins around a tree, attempting to tie it off before rubbing the horse's neck and fiddling with his mane. His coat is shiny, and the mane hair is as soft as mine.

Deciding we should have matching hair, I plait the mane, heat building as the fire grows. I sigh when the horse brushes against me while I finger comb the mane into multiple plaits. By the time I finish the third plait, I spare a glance back at Jerrick.

He cocks his head and crosses his arms, the well-lit fire behind him and his amused face warming my entire body. He smirks and approaches.

The steed huffs beside me, and I run my fingers through its mane as Jerrick removes our packs and inspects my handiwork. He hoists the satchels over his shoulder before meeting my gaze.

"I have enough food for tonight, but tomorrow, we will need to work. It'll be beneficial for my curse to hunt before the ball and find provisions for the rest of our trip. In our downtime, we can practice your magic," he says.

I incline my head while Jerrick strolls back to the fire, putting the packs down and unpacking them. He stops suddenly.

"Where is your blanket?"

Confusion crosses my features, and I face him. The weather is so warm in Palaena, and I will only sweat more in the night.

"What blanket?" I ask.

Jerrick slaps the front flap of my satchel closed and pinches the center of his nose as a sigh escapes. "You're supposed to pack a blanket because it gets cold during the night. We are at a higher altitude near the mountains."

Dorit.

"Dorit helped me pack my bag." I try to defend myself while also throwing her under the rug.

Maybe she forgot? Regardless, I don't need a blanket. It'll be fine.

Jerrick tosses my sack aside, pulling his own thin blue blanket, woven in yarn instead of a luxurious fabric. "You'll have to sleep next to me." He fluffs the blanket out, layering it on top of a section he swept down to have even leveling for his sleeping space.

The blanket is small, barely big enough for him to sit on and wrap himself in. Looking at it, I gulp down a nervous tremor at the implication of sharing.

My blood races to my cheeks, and I swirl back to the horse, fiddling with the plaits I made.

Even as I crave his touch with the idea of sharing a close space again, my mind thankfully keeps my heart in check and prevents me from voicing my lustful thoughts—for the most part.

"It's warm, and we have a fire. I am sure I will be plenty fine without a blanket," I say to reassure myself.

Jerrick adjusts the branches in the fire. "As you wish, Frostbite." He winks.

That damn sultry voice of his.

If I could slap myself now, I would. But it would only raise questions I do not want to answer.

Jerrick sets out some food, and I decide I should not make anything more awkward than it needs to be. I approach the fire and stretch out my hands, smelling the burnt leaves. The embers flare and drift upward, reaching the limits of the night sky before disintegrating. The faintest of stars glint as I observe the pale moon compared to the little flickers of light from the fire.

I close my eyes to the serene peace surrounding me. The wind brushes through the forest, the softest of insects chirping, and I open my eyes at the hoot of an owl.

"You probably don't remember much from our last expedition through the woods," Jerrick says, offering me a napkin of food.

I shake my head and move away from the fire, grabbing the napkin and adjusting into a sitting position. Opening it, there is some dried fruit, bread, and a pastry.

My stomach flips as a smile spreads wide across my face. I lift my gaze to Jerrick, met with a bashful grin.

"Thank you," I breathe.

Jerrick scratches the back of his head in response, both of us going for the solstice pastry first. We each study the other, chewing and swallowing the treat before the rest of our dinner.

Jerrick tends to the fire every so often as I finish my food. He takes my napkin, brushing the crumbs off past a fallen tree, and folds it into the satchel.

"Go ahead and rest. I'm going to tend to the horse," Jerrick says.

I glance around our campsite, a cold breeze blowing in the air. Not being close enough to the fire, it sends a tremor through my body.

I look at the flames, the blanket, and Jerrick, deciding against my better judgment to scoot over to a small section of the blanket. Knowing I am falling for this trap, I hug myself and face the fire, hopeful it'll keep me warm all night and that I won't do anything stupid should Jerrick lie beside me.

I make myself comfortable and ease down on my side, darting my eyes between the embers in front and Jerrick. He catches me staring, and I avert my attention back to the fire, grateful he did not say anything.

Jerrick's footsteps crunch on the fallen leaves, making their way to me.

My heartbeat hammers in my ears as he settles beside me, keeping as much distance as he can while attempting to make himself comfortable. I watch the base of the fire, listening to the crackle and smelling the smoke permeating the air, trying to focus on the heat warming me rather than the man behind me.

He is so close—so close that if I moved a muscle, we would be touching.

I push down the thought, needing to suppress my desires while we are away.

I need to stay focused on breaking the curse.

I need to stay focused on training my magic.

I need to not focus on the man next to me.

Even though I say nothing to Jerrick, I try to push past my conflicts and the phantom touch of his hands on my stomach. But I imagine them drifting lower—low enough to have my insides flex with need. The temptation furthers my arousal, repeating itself through my mind.

I bite my lip, desperately fighting the urge to roll over and ride my pleasure into release.

I watch the embers as a distraction. They dance and spin, the wind blowing as each one floats into the sky. Counting them clears my mind, sleep dragging me into a deep slumber when the fire dies out.