Chapter 29

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

TRESSYA

An arm snagged my waist, wrenching me from my saddle. My gasp disappeared on the wind as we raced across the barren Ashenlands. Before I knew it, he slung me across the front of his horse, a large hand pressing down on my shoulder blades.

"Don't struggle," Bloodwyn barked. "Easy girl." He calmed his horse with a soothing voice.

With his hand now removed from my back and the horse slowing to a walk, I reared up, twisting my torso, and punched him in the face. The accuracy of my aim hit him square in the nose. The force snapped his head back, then his body followed, toppling backward over his horse's rump.

I slid off the horse's neck and marched toward him, dagger already in hand. Bloodwyn lay on his back, blood pouring from his nose, watching me approach. He made no attempt to defend himself, merely lying there with a smile on his face, raising his hands in surrender.

"Well, look at that. It worked."

"I just lost another horse. And my sword," I growled, pointing the tip of my dagger at his chest.

He was breathing heavy, and damn if I couldn't stop my gaze from wandering down to his chest. I rather liked him on his back.

"Yes, but I managed to keep us together on the cross over."

"You're the last person I want to be stuck with in the Ashenlands." This was a terrible time for divided focus, and Bloodwyn was the one person who could steal the entirety of my attention just by his proximity.

"Not so, little princess. Otherwise, that dagger would already be through my heart. You're warming to me."

I hated that he saw right through me. I hated that his voice soothed over my body like a gentle caress, and made me weave dreams of magic in my head, dreams about us, impossible dreams about two enemies being together. "Did the punch to your nose give it away?"

"That and the fact I'm still breathing. Now, if you'd sheath your dagger and let me get up, we could discuss our plans to make the second trial a success."

He rolled to his side and slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"I'm not interested in forming a partnership with you."

Bloodwyn undid the buttons on his jacket and used the hem of his shirt to clean his nose, then pinched the bridge to stem the flow. In doing so, he revealed a tantalizing patch of his stomach. I licked my lips and swallowed the saliva from my mouth, then got lost in pleasant thoughts, wondering how smooth his skin would feel beneath my tongue. All those ridges of muscle, forming grooves I could slide my tongue between.

"Too late. We're stuck with each other now. We best make the most of it."

"Hmm…" I said, not really paying any attention to what he said. My gaze still lingered on the glimpse of his luscious skin. Would it taste like he smelt?

"Hey, princess. You with me here?" And he clicked his fingers.

I snapped my gaze to his face. Damn, I could feel the flush in my cheeks, so I sheathed my dagger, ignoring his smirk. "Why did you do it?"

"Curiosity."

"I'm to believe you're taking part in these trials for fun?"

He removed the hem of his shirt from his nose, and I nearly groaned at losing the view. "I do admit I'm distracted." He lifted his head. "Is it still bleeding?"

"This is not a game to me." He'd diverted my attention, forced me to reveal how hungry I was for a taste of him. He wouldn't do it again.

"I'm making it easy for you to keep an eye on me."

"The trials are deadly serious."

"I would argue the accuracy of that statement."

"Many noblemen will die in these trials because of you."

"Will you mourn them?"

"What're your plans?" I demanded.

"I thought if we?—"

"I mean for the Razohan," I interrupted. "The border to the northern lands isn't far. We're ideally located for an invasion."

"Don't forget the Ashenlands." Bloodwyn rose to his feet. I wasn't sure if his slow movement was for my benefit or if he was feeling the effects of his fall—though I doubted the latter.

"They've been a formidable wall for the last millennium."

"Then why have you come south now? And where is the rest of your force? If they're all shape-shifters, they could be amongst us like a plague of mice." These were worries I should've concerned myself with earlier. Instead I allowed his presence to fill my head with thoughts that were undeniably delicious but should never be there. It seemed I was destined to be plagued with my failures forever more.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I might have a concussion. That's too many questions."

I spun on my heels and walked over to his horse, nosing through the ground creepers for something to eat. With reins in hand, I swung up into the saddle. Without securing my feet in the stirrups, I nudged the horse into a walk.

"Hey! You're not going to leave me."

"You can shift into a dog and trot beside me." Then I nudged the horse forward. I had to admit, I fought hard not to look over my shoulder when I heard no complaint from Bloodwyn.

Finally, after a short time, my mental fight dissolved, and I glanced behind. He wasn't there. Given the canopy strangled most of the light, and I didn't have the eyes of a night creature, he was likely still there somewhere, silently watching.

Fine. I wasn't here to babysit him. He'd have to find his own way out. I nudged the horse onward, already wishing I was free of this place.

I gave the horse its head, allowing the creature to amble where it chose for now, while I tried to remain alert to any hint that my object was near.

Reining in the horse, a realization hit me: this was Bloodwyn's horse. Had he trapped me in his trial instead of my own? I shifted in the saddle, turning to look behind. "Bloodwyn!" I shouted as I slid off the horse. I couldn't have gone too far. He should still be within earshot.

"Damn you, Bloodwyn! I know you can hear me."

The only sounds were those of the Salmun's creatures, hunters adapted for silent movement.

"Stop sulking," I shouted.

"I never sulk."

I jumped when his voice sounded close behind me.

He reached for my waist as I toppled. As if on instinct, my body surrendered and softened into his touch. I gasped, lips parting and looked up at him, for one desirous moment falling under some spell, and in my mind, I saw his mouth coming closer to mine. Before I knew what I was doing, I was on tiptoes, snaking my arm around his neck, anchoring his head in place.

"Just making sure you don't trip over your feet."

I blinked, each breath pressing my breasts into his chest and tickling my nipples erect, which sent shards of pleasure between my legs.

Bloodwyn stared down at me with a look to peel my clothes from my body. Igniting under his gaze, I was on the verge of doing just that to his, shredding them with my teeth if that was the way I'd get them off quicker.

Mercy to the Mother. I'd lost my mind. I pushed him away.

"How… You…" I closed my eyes and swallowed to reel my lust deep inside of me. "You were in front of me?"

"Trotting's beneath me. I flew." He pulled a loose black feather from between the buttons of his blood-smeared shirt. "What made you change your mind about me?"

How could he behave so nonchalantly, seemingly unaffected by the intense, sizzling nerves that were consuming me? "I think I'm in your trial." Keep your head on the trials and nothing else.

"How interesting." He flashed a smile. "That means we'll have to stick together if you want to get out."

"That was your plan?"

"Honestly, I hadn't thought of it. But it works in my favor."

I still didn't know how these trials worked, so he could be telling the truth. "Sniff away, Razohan. I'm weary of this trial."

I wasn't going to last with him so close beside me. If the asshole so much as showed a whisper of interest in engaging in pursuits other than hunting for his object, I'd…I'd…make sure he failed to leave the Ashenlands with clothes intact, sanity intact and with claw marks covering his body. He may flirt and dally around me with teasing, amorous words but it seemed I was the only one with a voracious appetite, and he was on my menu. Bad girl, Tressya . Really bad disciple. This really wasn't me. What had the Razohan done to me?

"You realize the object could be personal to Bloodwyn. He might not want witnesses."

Maybe I could bed him, then kill him.

"Bloodwyn's dead." I gave his conversation little attention.

Who're you fooling? This was more than just lust because I never did just lust. I didn't know how. I knew how to lose my heart. That was all. I'd done it once before despite the Mother's training, but my emotions and desires had not felt so raw, so feral, like the survival of my heart depended on us being united.

"I might choose to be embarrassed on his behalf."

Oh wow . That couldn't be true. I was not losing my heart to my enemy. I didn't even know his real face or name. How could I lose my heart to a stranger? But he wasn't a stranger anymore. He was infuriating, obnoxious, and bullheaded, yet he had saved my life and had been honest with me from the start—the only one in this twisted game to show such candor.

He had wanted to know me.

And yet, he bit me, choosing me as his lifelong mate, without my consent. I should gut him for that alone, but he exuded an aura of undeniable power and influence I found compelling. Like a supreme hunter prowling, he moved with strength, agility, and grace. These traits combined were mesmerizing. His swordsmanship was unquestionable, stemming from breathtaking confidence in his skill.

He could have had his pick of courtiers in the north. Yet, he had chosen me. For no other reason, it seemed, than to save my plain self, the failed disciple, from his blade.

"Hey, you're doing it again," he said, waving his hand in front of my face.

"No, I'm not," I snapped. I'm not falling in love with you.

"It's hard to say when your eyes get that faraway look, like your thoughts have shifted away from us... Us in the trials, that is. Helping plan our escape from here."

"You're right. I'm not thinking of us. Not in the least."

"Fine. But we need to work together if we want to get out of here, so perhaps your thoughts could stray a little to us for a while."

I rolled my eyes, then couldn't help falling into his. For too long. Bloodwyn made it easy by staying quiet and returning my stare. The oppressive darkness of the Ashenlands enveloped us like a cocoon. It should concern me that I felt no want to cut this moment. Kiss me. Like I'm your last meal.

I pushed him away—but he didn't budge—shocked at how forceful the thought had come to me. So much so I almost complied and kissed him first, savagely.

The slow creep of his smile snapped me out of his seductive trance. I placed my hands on my hips and glared at him. Waiting.

"I'm not feeling anything at the moment. Let's walk." Bloodwyn gathered the horse's reins, then hesitated before he moved off, his hands twitching by his side, like his first instinct was to take mine.

If only he would, like he did in Emberforge.

"I wonder why nothing's attacked us yet." I stepped over a root, leading the way.

"Don't hurry the inevitable."

"I'm curious how you knew about the difference between the source and the manifestations."

"I'm more interested in your past. Illegitimacy isn't even a term in the northern realm. The Razohan don't use it. Every child is cherished."

I held my breath, focusing on where I walked rather than on him because those few words were a promise. He couldn't know what they meant to me.

"It wasn't hard to find out," he continued, sounding defensive, as if I'd accused him of prying into my history.

"Do you really think you will win against the Salmun?" Steering the questions was my best way to keep him from the secret ruin of my soul.

He exhaled slowly, and I stole fleeting glances at his profile, which was not the way to keep my head focused on winning the trial and out of the turbulent mix of my emotions regarding him.

"Did the Mother ever make up for the absence of your birth mother?"

I hesitated in my steps, but Bloodwyn kept walking, seemingly unfazed.

"What about the others in the northern realm? The Huungardrerd? How many will follow you south?"

"Do you trust the Mother?"

I halted. Bloodwyn turned to face me. "In the graveyard, you mentioned learning the power of your soul word."

"A lapse I won't repeat." Curses that he remembered. This conversation was bound to unravel me into loose threads, so he could rewind me into knots and twist them around his finger. Only, I was starting to dream again, because I didn't believe he would. Look where all those dreams have gotten me.

"Your Mother dumped you in Tarragona, surrounded by a court of serpents when you were vulnerable and powerless to use soul voice."

How dare he? "Have I ever appeared vulnerable to you?"

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "I'm curious about the other special talents hiding within you, princess?"

"I'd guess fewer than you. You're rather crowded in there, I would say."

He chuckled. "Well said."

Unexpectedly, a tingle spread through my stomach, flooding me in warmth on hearing his laugh. I clenched my fists. I should be irritated, not charmed.

"Loyalty is one of our six pillars," I stated.

"I asked how you felt about the Mother, not the specifics of your training."

"The Mother is devoted to the Sistern. She's chosen for?—"

"I'm not interested in the Sistern's propaganda. I'm interested in what you feel in your heart."

"My loyalty is to the Mother?—"

Bloodwyn silenced me with a finger on my lips, and I was unprepared for the violent punch of lust.

"No more rehearsed responses, Tressya. Speak your heart."

He couldn't know what his words did to me. They were spells of the sweetest kind. I found clarity in silence, but everything inside of me was either at war or on fire. My emotions raged against each other, one side wanting my surrender, the other charging in for the kill. His touch, that singular gesture of his finger lightly pressed to my lips destroyed my carefully practiced restraint. Discipline would never be mine to master again as long as I was with him. I closed my eyes and thought of that finger trailing all the way down my neck.

"You'd probably say or do anything to come out on top," I whispered.

Regret was a bitter taste. It poured into my mouth like stomach acid when he withdrew his touch.

Bloodwyn moved on with the horse. Staring at his back, I felt the vicious stab of rejection, and the blade remained lodged between my ribs.

"It made no sense." I stomped after him, not paying attention to where I put my feet and tripped over a hidden root.

Bloodwyn caught me. My skin overly sensitive to his touch, I stayed in his arms. I wanted to stay in his arms. What would it be like if I surrendered completely to him? Gave him what he wanted, the end of the Tannard line, and his ass on the throne?

Mercy, what was I thinking? I could never betray Andriet.

I pulled myself from his hold. "I wondered so many times. But it's not my place to question. It opens the way to disloyalty." I spat the words out in a jumble. I disobeyed the pillars everyday. I'm no longer worthy of the Mother's respect.

"Your heart already seems heavy with guilt." His soothing words were calming. I turned away, unable to handle the intimacy.

"There it is."

"What?" His words jolted me. I glanced around. Had he found his object?

"That spirit."

I was taken aback. He can see spirits too? "Where?"

He gripped my wrist, gently directing my attention to him and touched my chest. "Right here. It's never far, thankfully. And no, you've never appeared weak or vulnerable to me. Neither I find alluring."

His words left me breathless.

"Listen," he whispered, attention on the woods. "Do you hear that?"

Right now, we could be drowning in the sea, and I wouldn't care.

As he gathered the horse's reins, his hand engulfed mine. It felt right. It felt like I had come home.

"No," I played along, letting our hands remain intertwined, comforted by his warmth.

"This might be what we've awaited."

"What is it?"

"A woman's moan."

"Maybe you were right. This could be embarrassing."

He smirked. "Bloodwyn was quite the rogue."

"It's unsettling he's inside you."

"But helpful. The Salmun would've recognized me instantly without Bloodwyn's memories."

"It's still creepy."

Unfazed, he pointed out. "The sound comes from over there."

We moved stealthily, even the horse being discreet. Still, I heard nothing and wondered if Bloodwyn was simply finding an excuse to hold my hand, which he didn't need to find.

"Are we getting closer?"

"The sounds are sporadic. I can't tell if she's in ecstasy or distress."

"Are you telling me you don't know the difference?"

"You can't hear her?"

"Sensitive subject, I see."

He yanked me to a stop. "I thought you wanted to be serious about this trial?"

"You wasted a fair amount of time back there asking me private questions. I'm just returning the favor. And no, I can't hear a thing. Remember, this is your trial?"

He nodded. "Good. Then you won't see her either."

"Why? Is she going to be naked?"

"I wouldn't know?"

I reached up and poked his temple. "His life's in there."

"It's a possibility."

"I'm not surprised."

Rather than reply, Bloodwyn led me through the trees. I glanced over my shoulder once, feeling a few eerie tingles, but saw nothing. Thankfully, the creatures of the Ashenlands had stayed away so far.

When he stopped abruptly, I bumped into him. "I see her."

I rubbed the tip of my nose as I came to stand beside him. "That seemed suspiciously easy."

"It's far from easy. She's on a small island in the middle of a marsh, which is probably deadly."

"I don't see a marsh."

"An illusion. That's alright then."

"Illusions can be just as dangerous in this forest."

He squeezed my hand, looking down at me. "I'd suggest you stay here, but once I touch her, I'll vanish back to tent city."

"I can handle myself. I don't need your protection."

"Tressya," he growled. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No. I'm just in the habit of antagonizing you."

"I've never wanted a woman that rolls over for me, but this isn't the place to start arguing."

There went another punishing flare of tingles. Only this time they started lower than my belly.

"Actually, there are situations where a woman rolling over?—"

I fought with my smile. "Any minute we're going to be attacked."

Bloodwyn winked and stepped forward, then groaned.

"What happened?"

"My foot's sunk to my ankle."

I stared at the ground, seeing his boot. "No, it hasn't."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "It's a potent illusion."

"But I can guide you. There's no marsh." What other deceptive tricks would we face?

He inhaled sharply and took another step. "My other foot just sunk."

"It's all in your mind."

"It feels like ice."

"Release the horse. We don't need it. Concentrate."

Bloodwyn did as I said, but the creature remained still.

"Come on," I urged, pulling his hand. "Straight ahead, right?"

"Get behind me, Tressya. We're uncertain of what lies ahead."

"I thought you said you never saw me as vulnerable or powerless."

"I can't help wanting to protect you."

If only my enemy would stop being so nice. I never needed a man to save me, but that he wanted to melted my heart.

I grunted, tugging his hand, but Bloodwyn resisted. "My feet are stuck."

"They're not." Yet, I could see the illusion overpowering his mind.

He clenched his teeth, a muscle twitching under his left eye as he tried to pull his feet free.

"There's no marsh, Bloodwyn. Your feet aren't stuck. Trust me." I pulled his hand again, and he stumbled into me.

I stumbled backward, but Bloodwyn caught his balance in time to prevent me from falling.

"Let's keep moving." This time he pulled me along.

Walking with exaggerated strides, it seemed as though he battled to lift each foot. I held his hand tightly, hoping my touch would remind him the illusion wasn't real. Until he fell to one knee.

He pounded the ground and growled. "It's not real."

"What happened?"

"I've sunk to my knee."

"You're kneeling. Get up." I looked over his head to the dark forest beyond. We were going too slow, and with this illusion consuming Bloodwyn's concentration any attack would be deadly.

"Come on, Bloodwyn." I tried to pull him up, but he growled in frustration.

His cheeks between my palms, I leaned close, then covered his eyelids with my fingers. "Close your eyes and listen to my voice. Get. Up. You're kneeling not sinking."

"The cold's paralyzing my leg," he admitted through gritted teeth.

I shook my head, as if it was I that needed convincing, then I crouched and grabbed the back of his calf. "Do you feel my hand?"

He shook his head. "No."

"Can't you? I'm squeezing your calf. You must be able to feel that."

"If I could I would say. I'm not pretending."

"I don't want to do this." I went for my dagger sheathed at my belt. "But we're in deep trouble if I don't."

Bloodwyn gently pushed me away. "Find your object and get out."

"Too late. You ruined my chances there." And I slashed a shallow cut across his calf, ensuring he felt it.

"Arrh! Did you just cut me?"

"If you were submerged, you wouldn't have felt that. Stand up."

He collapsed forward, using the ground to push up. "My hands are sinking through. It's like they're in a vice." He tried to lift them, but they remained grounded. Squeezing his eyes closed, he huffed. "It's an illusion."

I pressed my hand to the wound at his calf, smearing the slippery warmth of his blood. He jerked.

"You feel that, don't you? That's not an illusion."

Bloodwyn nodded, so I sheathed my dagger, grabbed his arm and yanked, leaving smears of his blood on his sleeve. "I'm sorry." Despite my efforts, he remained immobile.

"No you're not."

"I might have enjoyed it a tad. But if you can't break free from these illusions, I'll have to cut you again."

"You could've tried a kiss."

"That's your reward for freeing yourself and reaching the woman."

"A challenge I can't decline."

He sunk his head. I let him go and sat back and watched, but he remained on his hands and knee. As far as I could see, he wasn't doing anything or making a sound. The wait became an agony, but I pressed my lips tight not wanting to disturb him.

The thrash of my blood through my ears drowned out the forest noises, and the gloom cloaked anything creeping in close. That we'd not been attacked already seemed too convenient. Right now was the perfect time for one of the Salmun's creatures to appear, which made me think what Bloodwyn faced was his trial. Marshlands? Even marshlands that paralyzed were tame. There had to be more.

"I'm done being patient. You need to fight."

He stayed like a perfectly carved statue.

"Bloodwyn?"

I received no response. "Bloodwyn?" I crawled toward him and tapped him on the head. When he remained still, I gently lifted his head using a finger under his chin, then recoiled upon seeing the whites of his eyes. His head dropped, as though he'd fallen into a deep sleep.

Maybe another cut from my blade would break him out of the trance he seemed to be caught in. Before I could even draw it, Bloodwyn let out a cry. His right arm gave way, collapsing him onto his elbow.

"Let go of me," he snarled.

With his elbow and arm pinned to the ground, he tried to thrash about.

"Curses, Bloodwyn!" I lunged at him, striking his arm. "Fight!"Yet, he was unreachable. It was like an invisible wall had descended between us, severing us apart.

He cried out again, dropping onto his left elbow. I could only imagine the horrors he perceived in his mind. He continued to struggle in vain, battling the unseen forces dragging him down. This was his trial, a mental challenge that seemingly not even a mighty Razohan could break free from.

Acting on impulse, I slipped onto my ass and shuffled underneath him before he fell flat on his face. For whatever reason, I felt sure once he was flat on the ground, I would lose him. Perhaps the illusion would make him believe he was drowning until he ran out of air.

Grains of dirt and sharp twigs burrowed under my clothes, and my dagger got ensnared in some creepers. I strained, shimmying down his body's length, all the while he wildly shook his head and continued his loud protestations.

Grasping his face, I yelled. "Bloodwyn!" trying to be heard over his own outbursts.

His features, twisted in fury, betrayed his torment. "No!" he bellowed, spitting over my face in the process.

With his eyes a haunting shade of white, the illusion seemed to have completely taken over. Perhaps he believed his only way out was death—a thought I couldn't bear.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist, pressing myself flush against him, wanting to become his anchor, hoping to bring him back, unable to let him go. When he roared again, I seized the moment to kiss him, silently pleading this would be enough; I would be enough.

Driven by desperation, I drove my tongue into his mouth, kissed him like I'd never kissed before; like a savage, hoping to connect with him in a way words couldn't.

I had wondered what it would be like to kiss him, but never dreamed it would happen in the middle of the Ashenlands. And it would be better, amazing even, if Bloodwyn responded. He didn't. Instead he remained like wood. My kiss didn't work. The disappointment burned like red glowing metal, and I sobbed into his mouth, a wounded sound that ripped at my heart. I wasn't enough .

What he did do was bite my lip. I yelped and recoiled. The surprise made me release my grip, causing me to tumble to the ground.

"Asshole," I snapped, regaining my composure to deliver a swift right hook to his jaw.

His head snapped right at the same time he collapsed on top of me, shunting the air from my chest. I didn't have time to take in breaths before he kissed me back with ferocity, such that I thought he wanted to suck my lungs up my throat. For a breath, I allowed him. I did what I dreamed of doing and gave in, opened myself to the powerful wave of arousal shooting through my body like arrows, the most pleasurable way to be wounded.

My moan was my wake up. Or a combination of his and mine. But the united sound of our budding bliss reminded me of our fates. I fisted his hair and pulled, peeling his lips away.

You had your chance .

"Is that your blood or mine?" were the first two sane words he'd spoken since believing he was stuck in the marsh.

I wanted to punch him again. Even so, my relief that he was back overpowered me. And now I was caught between wanting to punch him or kiss him again. The next best thing was to growl. "Get off me."

"Seriously, is that your blood or mine?"

"It's yours. Please, I can't breathe."

Bloodwyn pushed to his knees, grabbing my hand as he went and helped me to sit. "Why were we on the ground?"

"You don't remember?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"Thinking I had sunk up to my ankles."

"Fine," I snapped and went to get up, but Bloodwyn snagged my elbow and reeled me toward him.

Holding me close to his chest, his eyes dropped to my lips. Using his thumb to slowly swipe at the blood, he whispered. "Liar."

When I pushed at his chest, he reluctantly relinquished me, but continued to frown. "What happened?"

"Do you still see the woman?"

He gave a small shake of his head, telling me he was annoyed at my persistent habit of never answering him, and glanced over the top of me. "Yes."

"What about the marsh?"

"We're sitting in it."

"But you don't feel trapped?"

"No. I seem to have freed myself from that part of the illusion."

"I guess it shows the force of your will."

"I guess it does." He worked his jaw as he rubbed it.

I would feel smug if I didn't feel mad. Or was this disappointed? Violence worked better than a kiss.

I turned my back on him and climbed to my feet. "Don't you dare start believing you're sinking again."

"Your ass is soaked," he quipped and scooped me up into his arms. I gasped and, despite myself, tried not to laugh.

"Let me spare your boots from getting muddy. She's not far."

"We're still in the Ashenlands. You've got no excuse for being in a good mood."

"It's not every day you discover your mind's an iron cage."

"The invincible Razohan."

Bloodwyn carried me the rest of the way. He continued to hold me in his arms when he reached the woman, but the weird tug and pull effect of returning to tent city wrenched us apart and we both landed face down on the edge of the Ashenlands.