CHAPTER 9
GWEN
Two days later,the blizzard is still raging. I stand at the large front window near the balcony doors, staring out at the wall of white. I can’t even see the outline of the mountains this morning, nor the nearest houses or shops. I’m a little disappointed that we’re stuck inside and can’t finish exploring Ellonnar, as tomorrow night will be our last at the inn, but Merak has been good company.
Even though he’s my master.
Even though he’s still adamant that he’ll never let me go.
But the truth is, I like spending time with him. I enjoy the quiet moments spent by the fire most of all, particularly when we each have a book spread out on our lap. It feels cozy and intimate. After the terror of the fortnight I spent in the deserter-soldiers’ captivity, followed by the horror on the auction platform and fearing I might die from my festering wounds, it has been rather healing to spend time in a place that’s warm and safe… a place that feels like a fortress. Especially when Merak never judges me for poring over the maps and trade routes inthe books he purchased for me. Sometimes when he catches me looking at a particular landmark on a map, one he’s glimpsed with his own eyes, he even takes a moment to describe it to me in great detail, helping to paint a vivid picture in my mind.
I turn at the sound of his footsteps. He strides out of the bedroom, having slept later than me, wearing nothing but a pair of soft trousers rather than his usual leathers. My heart races at the sight of his bare, muscular chest, and a heated flush rushes through me.
“You should’ve woken me up, my dearest.” He approaches and immediately takes me into his arms, holding me close to his chest as he places a kiss atop my head.
I flush again.
I also suddenly feel like I’m floating.
Whenever he kisses my forehead or the crown of my hair, tingles sweep through my body and warmth quakes between my thighs. I can’t help but wonder if he ever plans to kiss me on the lips. He’s had plenty of opportunities. But then so have I. Is he waiting for me to initiate our first kiss?
I shouldn’t want to kiss him. I shouldn’t want to be close to him. He’s the highborn fae male who owns me, and while things are pleasant between us right now, I worry about what will happen once he takes me back to the Winter Court army’s war camp. I don’t want to witness the destruction of more human villages and cities. I also worry about the conditions the other human slaves are enduring in the war camp. If I witness atrocities being committed against my own people, atrocities in which Merak is complicit, I suspect I’ll start seeing him differently.
Perhaps I will see him as he truly is—a conqueror of my people.
A monster. A killer.
He stiffens and makes a strange noise in his throat, almost a growl, and for a moment I worry that he somehow heard my thoughts. While I appreciate that his fae magic healed me, saved my life, even, I am still wary of it. I don’t know the full extent of his powers, and I’ve been hesitant to ask.
But maybe I need to change that. Maybe I should ask him more about himself. I don’t know a thing about him other than that he’s a highborn fae male who serves as a tracker and aerial scout for the Winter Court army. I don’t know anything about his lands in the Winter Court and whether they’ve already fallen into ruin, and I don’t know whether his parents are still alive or if he has siblings.
A dark thought strikes me.
What if he has a mate?
I try to remember everything I’ve ever learned about the fae, knowledge I mostly gathered by hanging around the traveling merchants on market day back in Braemar. I know they have fated mates. Has Merak met his yet?
How old is he? What sort of mischief did he get into as a child? Does he have any hobbies or interests? What about a favorite territory in the realm, or perhaps a favorite city? Gods, I even find myself wondering what his favorite dessert might be. My mind spins as I consider all the questions I suddenly want to ask him.
He withdraws slowly from the hug and gently grasps my upper arms. He looks me up and down, and I flush as I wonder whether my nightdress is too transparent. I’m not wearing any undergarments beneath, nor am I wearing the purple robe this morning. The hearth was already blazing when I awoke, since the servants tend to arrive early while we’re still sleeping to tidy the place and rekindle the fire. And I didn’t dress yet because I didn’t want to wake Merak as I rummaged around the bedroom.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. “I can ring the bell to request breakfast.”
The way he studies me so intently causes my mouth to go dry.
“Yes,” I finally reply.Famished. I would add that last word if I were braver. Brave enough to tease him. My pulse quickens as I imagine how he might respond if I said something so bold.
A short while later, I find myself seated across from the handsome fae male at the breakfast table, a massive spread of food between us. I sip my tea and nibble on the sweetcakes as I consider the first question I should ask Merak. Flutters erupt in my stomach, but I’m not certain why I’m so nervous to learn more about him.
“How old are you?” I ask. There. That’s a safe, uncomplicated question. A perfect opening line. I nearly pat myself on the back.
He sets his cup of tea down and regards me with a slightly amused look.
“I am four hundred and sixty-eight,” he says. “And if I’m remembering correctly… you are twenty-two, are you not?”
“Yes, that is correct. I’m twenty-two. How did you know?”
“King Theron mentioned that you were the same age as his mate. I once heard him tell Helena that she was too bossy for a female who was only twenty-two.” He smirks, then reaches for one of the large blue ice-berries on the fruit platter.
