I smiled, for I remembered that warmth lived not just in the palm of Adrik’s hand, or in the still-warm pebble, but it lived inme too. It writhed like a flame in my chest and spilled furiously into my veins.
I licked a drop of my blood off his claw.
My magic gathered like fire at my fingertips. It barrelled into the earth, past frozen roots towards the darkness far, far below. I did not fear that darkness.
I cherished it.
Ibecameit.
I became the wind, cackling and howling in the lordling’s ear, and I became the thorns, sharpening their teeth on his rotten bones, and I did not become a wild thing—I became the wild itself. He shrieked and he screamed and he screeched. I basked in each broken plea as I tore him apart.
Only when he hung limply from the bramble, did I snap back into myself. He was still alive. Oh, how alive—chest heaving, face dark with terror. I smiled as I drew my knife from its sheath. He began to writhe and—
Oh, how he begged as I put the knife to his ribs.
Oh, how he gasped as I slid it through flesh into bone.
Still, I smiled.
So did the tidekissed warrior at the other end of the meadow. His moss-green eyes twinkled with dark, wicked glee.
“Ana.”
I saw nothing more than the flash of golden curls before Adrik fell to his knees beside me and pulled me tightly into his arms. His gaze swept over me, again and again, as if to assure himself that I was still whole; feverish and desperate, yet so gentle that I almost forgot what the wind had whispered in my ear. That I almost wished to reach for his hand and allow him to guide me back to the warmth of his bed. Back to the crinkled sheets I’d abandoned so carelessly this morning.
Had I known what I knew now, I would have savored what little time we had even more. I would have stolen a final kissfrom his lips before I slipped through the door and into the cold. He placed his hand on my cheek, as tenderly as he had done in the night.
I shrank from it.
For a heartbeat, I wished I could take it back. I could not bear the hurt in his gaze. A breath of cold enveloped us. The forest had enough of my hesitation.
“Is it true?” I asked softly. I was afraid of the answer. More afraid than I had ever been in my life. Now, I was about to lose something worth keeping. “Is it true that the curse is your doing?”
For a second, I hoped he would deny it. But I knew from the anguish in his eyes that it was the truth—from his pleading look.
“I do not know how,” he whispered. “The forest… It speaks to me. It haunts me, Ana. It blames me for the cold and I do not know what I might have done to cause it. I do not know—” He paused to swallow. “Believe me, Ana. Whatever I did, I never meant—”
The wind stole the words from his lips. It swept across the clearing with a hiss, bending the trees as if they were sticks, shattering the ice over the pond with a deafening screech.
Deliver him to us, the wind cried.Deliver him, or die with him.
“Quick!” Adrik’s voice cut through the clamor. He leaped to his feet and pulled me up. “Run!”
I let him take my hand and lead us forth. As we raced toward the crest, I dared one glance over my shoulder.
I wished I had not.
The clearing lay in ruins; scattered branches, roots climbing from the frozen ground like gnarled fingers reaching out for us. Just behind the clearing, the churning mist thickened. It billowed between the trees, swallowing everything in its path like a white wall.
For a moment, my gaze met Adrik’s. Mine, I knew, was filled with fear. His was firm with resolve. A soft, sad smile flickered over his lips.
“Forever, I will regret just one thing: That you and I did not have more time.”
I leaned into him. In the face of death, it did not matter what he had done. He was still Adrik. He had carved himself a home in my hollow heart and stirred it gently alive. If I was to die, let it be in his arms. He drew me close; so close his heart fluttered against my cheek.
“Be quick, Ana,” he murmured into my hair. “Be quick, and do not look back.”
He shoved me.
