Page 4 of Soul of Fire

And you?I asked, jogging a step to catch Arik’s hand.Will you carry me?

Always, Kjære.He squeezed my hand as he interlaced our fingers.Any excuse to throw you over my shoulder.

We trudged down the road for what felt like hours, and I was surprised when Arik finally announced that we had arrived. The only thing that distinguished the village from the rest of the bleak surroundings was deeper darkness where the buildings stood, their outlines faintly illuminated by the moon and stars. Not a single light was visible in the village. I sincerely doubted we’d receive awarm welcome when we’d be tearing someone from their bed to greet us.

Arik and Jorgen stopped before a building that was only a fraction larger than its neighbors, and Jorgen jiggled the handle.

“Must be asleep,” he grunted, glancing back at Branka. She returned his smile, and I felt a pang of longing for their easy affection.

Arik wasmine, of that I had no doubt. And I would burn the world if it tried to take him from me. But there was still plenty I didn’t know about my mate—about his childhood, why he hated his father and brother so much, about his life before becoming drage—and we hadn’t really had the time to get to know each other the way Jorgen and Branka had. Partly because of my reluctance, but also because of the dragehersker who had done his best to keep us apart.

Good riddance.Arik thumped so loudly on the door, I thought he might take it off its hinges. He shot me an exasperated look. AndI believe we’ve been over this. Must I prove again how well I know you?

Stop that.I cursed my pale skin that showed every lustful thought and thanked the Hearthmother for the dark.

This man was making me ridiculous.

So much blushing.Arik gave me a heated look.It will be my pleasure to make the rest of you turn that color, too. Perhaps in exchange for answers to all of your burning questions.He pounded on thedoor again, and I had barely enough time to school my features before the door opened on a very angry, elderly man in a white gown and nightcap.

“What do you think you’re—“ His face paled as he took in our armor and Arik’s pointed ears. Though I was behind him, I was certain he’d let Baldur shine through his eyes just a bit to speed this interaction along. The innkeeper let out a gurgling sound as he took a panicked step back. “Drage.”

“We need rooms,” Arik said gruffly. He reached for the leather bag of coins at his waist and dropped four, large golden coins into the innkeeper’s hand with a clink. “Two rooms. And four hot meals.”

“R-right away,” the innkeeper croaked, stepping aside and waving us in.

I tried to shoot him a friendly smile, remembering my terror when Arik and Revna had appeared at Henrik’s tavern.

It didn’t seem to help.

The man let out a garbled croak that sounded like, “Up,” as he pushed two large brass keys into Arik’s hand. Arik nodded, jerking his head toward a set of rickety wooden stairs in a command for us to follow.

Are you always like this around the jernblod?I tried to imbue the question with disapproval. The stairs creaked frightfully beneath us, and I worried they might collapse under Arik and Jorgen’s considerable bulk.

Like what?He glanced at me with a raised brow.

Terse and unpleasant. Vaguely terrifying.

Do I scare you, Kjære?Arik’s voice was edged with amusement as he stopped at the end of the hall, passing a key to Jorgen. “You’re here. I assume food will appear, but go down and check in twenty minutes if it hasn’t.”

“When do you want to head out again?” Jorgen asked. A frown turned the corner of his mouth down as he glanced at Branka. “Dawn?”

Arik looked at Jorgen appraisingly, then at me. “A few hours after sunup should be fine. I doubt we’re expected before the midday meal.”

Branka yawned, resting her head on Jorgen’s shoulder. “That should be just enough time for—“

“Come on, love.” Jorgen grunted as he guided Branka through the door, a grin tugging at his lips as he turned back to us. “Sleep well, Dragehersker. Eisa.”

Arik shook his head and smiled as the door clicked shut.I’ll never get used to that. After you, Kjære.

Our room was directly across the hall from Jorgen and Branka’s. Dank and creaky, cold and moth-eaten, it was nowhere near as nice as the inn we’d stayed at on our way to Ironholm, but it was still nicer than my shared room at Henrik’s. At least this room had a proper bed.

“I’m amazed there were two rooms available.” Arik groaned as he dropped our packs haphazardly on the narrow bed and stretched. Every bone in his back must have cracked. “Isn’t there usually only one when you’re desperate?”

“Thank the Hearthmother.” I shoved the packs unceremoniously onto the floor, then flopped face down onto the tiny bed. It was as hard as rock and smelled vaguely of mildew, but my body was so grateful to rest, I let out a groan of appreciation anyway. “I have no desire to share a room with Jorgen and Branka. Plus, this village doesn’t seem particularly big or busy. How many people could possibly want to stay here?”

Arik nodded. “It’s too far from the capital to make it popular.” He flopped down next to me on the bed and stared at the wooden beams above us. “And several days’ ride from any other settlement.”

I lifted my chin on my hand and eyed him with suspicion. “And therealreason we’re staying in the middle of nowhere is because…?”