Nocturne woke in a warm feather bed, the insides of her eyelids bright with the light of a fire. Several long minutes passed before she remembered anything, but she pretended to be asleep as the memory of the blizzard and the Crows swept into her mind, frightening her all over again.
You are safe now,she told herself. Someone had rescued her.
Notsomeone.
Thegeneral. The Wolf of Winter had saved her useless hide.
She should be thanking him, but she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. Keeping her breathing steady, she listened for any sounds that might indicate whether she was alone, but all she heard was the steady crackling of the fire. She focused on the popping of the wood as the flames chewed away at it, allowing the familiar sound to calm her thoughts. She was warm now.Safe. Nothing—not even the cold—was going to hurt her.
She sank deeper into the mattress and slowly drifted off…
The door creaked open sometime later, startling her awake, though she kept her eyes closed and pretended to still be asleep as she listened.
The sound of footsteps as someone—the general, she realized, as she picked up on the woodsy scent of him—crossed the room. He eased himself into the chair in front of her, the oak groaning under his weight. She could feel him studying her, though he was so quiet that, had she not heard him enter, she wouldn’t have known he was there at all.
Well, she supposed she would have to face him eventually. Why wait any longer?
Fluttering her eyelashes, she feigned waking up, and the first thing she saw was the general staring at her in blatant concern. At the sight of him, her heart stumbled a beat and her stomach clenched with nerves. Slowly, she took him in. Bit by bit.
Elbows braced on his knees. Fingers intertwined and held against his lips. And his eyes—Nine Hells, his eyes were amazing. And intense. So intense, she had to look away. Why hadn’t she noticed them before?
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice bass and grim.
When she tried to stretch, she winced.
The little space between his eyebrows crinkled. “Sore?”
She nodded.
Those intense eyes tightened, and his sculptured mouth became a thin line. “What were you doing so far from home?”
She scrunched up her nose at his word choice. “This isn’t my home,” she mumbled. “I was looking for my mother’s necklace.” As if to prove a point, she pulled her necklace up from where it was hidden beneath her clothes. In the firelight, it shone like the ocean under the sun. After a moment of marveling over the color, she realized the general’s eyes were still on her.
She sank back into the pillow, gripping the lapis tightly. As she adjusted to get comfortable, unfamiliar fabric whispered against her skin. Far softer than anything she was allowed to wear in this wretched place. Which could only mean…
Nine Hells.Someone had changed her clothes! Her cloak, armor, shirt, and pants—even herunderclothes—had been stripped off and replaced with a soft blue nightgown.
Nocturne shot the general an accusing glare.
He wasted no time before launching into an explanation. “You were soaked and freezing. If one of the handmaidens hadn’t changed your clothes, you might’ve died.”
“Pity,” she muttered.
The general’s eyes tightened again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wandered out to the caves with every intention of dying.”
Bristling at the accusation, she shot him another glare, though he’d certainly hit the nail on the head. No, she hadn’t wandered out into the middle of nowhere to have her bones picked clean by the scum of Elderyn, but ever since her family had died, she’d wished she could join them. Though she longed for revenge, she would be stupid to believe she could stand up to anyone in this despicable place. And, if she allowed herself to admit it, she was simply tired of breathing.
“You’re not as stupid as you look, General,” Nocturne said.
It was his turn to bristle, a muscle feathering in his cheek. “And you’re not as kind as you look, Miss Wycherley.”
Nocturne ground her teeth together so hard she nearly gave herself a headache. The general was the farthest thing from stupid, and he certainly didn’t look it. But his comment struck deep, for she knew she wasn’t kind.
Not anymore.
They stared at each other in annoyance as the seconds ticked by. And then, as if suddenly remembering something, the general reached into his pocket and produced a large, yellowed fang.
Nocturne’s breathing hitched. Someone must’ve found it when they changed her clothes.
