Page 31 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

For a few minutes I waited in front of the beige wooden door before taking a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and pushing the silver handle.

It was just how I had imagined his world to be. Deep mauve and onyx, softwood and silver accents glistened under the melancholy of the dark and strands of lone moonlight. How dark was the dark truly? Perhaps it was because I'd always felt so protected from it—from him—because suddenly…it had muted.

He was so still one would miss him. Sat back on an armchair on the far back of the room, facing the door, his sleeves rolled up revealing the band of our bargain and strong arms that once I’d begged to be held from. He cradled a tumbler with an amber liquid, his whole attention to it even long after I’d entered. I’d never seen him so dishevelled. How did he look so human when I knew he was the furthest from being one?

It wasn’t that cold, but when his gaze hit me, I shivered. Like that, he held my raging stare for a little while before his eyes travelled slowly over my body. His jaw tensed when he took the next sip of the amber liquid.

My ridiculous body was starting to betray me again, I felt my nipples pebble under his dark scrutiny. Crossing my arms, I hoped to hide any evidence of my shameful attraction to him.

He hissed and I noticed his gaze over the flimsy bust of the nightgown. “No shoes,” his voice broke the cold with more cold. Not what I’d expected him to ask considering he had pinned me with his stare like he was a snap away from devouring me.

Despite being tempted to leave him unanswered, find a spot on the floor and just let this night go by and leave at dawn, I answered, “The earth grounds and expels some magic out of my body. That is why I don’t wear shoes.”

I knew I’d done right to tell him when his face cracked just the slightest from that stoic mask of solemnity that was itching me for destruction. How dare he be calm when I wanted to be fury.

He lifted the tumbler to his lips, his eyes never leaving me. “You hid it well.”

Locking my hands behind me before I did something like wrap them around his throat or trail them over those lips that I longed to feel over mine, I moved toward him, slowly. “No, I didn’t hide. It was always there, in a blizzard, a rain cloud, thunder, a raging storm. I never hid. Couldn’t even if I wanted to. What I did was lie, mask it.” Reaching him, I bent down to his eye level. I wish I didn’t have to drown the whimper that rose when his scent suffused me. “Pretend.” The grin spread before I could help it. “I know a thing or two about pretending.”

He met my stare dead on. He knew a thing or two about pretending himself. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to hurt him to tears. His pulsing heartbeat mocked me. “I think I'd be able to separate the act from the truth.”

“Yeah, I’d think so too. After all, you tried so hard to get under my skin, didn’t you? Only to fail.”

His silver irises faded just the slightest, I could practically see doubt gather with each twitch of the nerve on his temple. “I am not sure if it is you or me you are trying to convince that there was nothing between us.”

“Convince?” I took the tumbler from his hand. “I don’t need to convince anyone.” The air grew colder at my command. Ice slowly coated and spread over the glass I held. A chuckle escaped me when his attention flinted to it. I hissed when the cold bit onto my skin. One moment of pain and all sensation of cold on my skin vanished. Cold and I never got along, but the pain was bearable and never enough to cause me any harm. I had, after all, spent all my life in it. Trained, beaten, slept in it, too. And sometimes it had comforted me when no one could. The cold eventually burned and turned warm. “The Winter Princess who couldn’t bear the cold. You should have seen your expression that day. It was delicious.” I took a sip of the chilled burning liquid and sighed when the chestnut taste kissed my throat, and then almost gagged from the strength of the liquor. Hells. “Do you know what was better? Knowing I could catch a few moments of rest at night while knowing you were out there. I knew that day for sure that you wouldn't hurt me. It was enough to convince Nia, too. She wouldn’t stop prattling about how you were this mystic being with an ominous presence that threatened to envelope all that was good.”

I chugged the whole liquid down and lowered the tumbler back on the table. My sight dizzied for a moment. Of all my vices, why did I have to be lightweight, too? “The moments I hurt seemed to be the moments you were most vulnerable to my prying. Malik told me all about you after we turned from Brogmere. General, he said—you were the king’s general.” A bitter chuckle left me. “Still, someone who knew more than any spy of mine knew, you were the closest thing to the man I was hunting. I needed you to be vulnerable.”

I could see the gears rotate in his head. He was searching for everything he’d told me.

“Alaar, reassurance, the council,” I said, before it took all night for him to piece together the things I’d done. “I swear that night you would have given me everything if I’d batted my lashes a tad stronger. Anyway, the only thing hindering the king’s decisions—your decisions—was the council. I ought to get rid of them first. That is your guilt to bear, you planted that thought in me. And then, I just so happened to find out who was in your council. I knew Adriane for sure and then you mentioned Stregor when we stayed in Arynth. Can you imagine, two of the people who owed me equally as you were both alive. My luck had soared.”

He filled the glass with the amber liquor, lifting to sip where my lips had left a mark against the frosted glass. “What else?” he asked, too boredly for my taste. Like he wasn’t believing my words. “Tell me.”

“You don’t seem to understand me,” I said, taking the glass from him to take another sip. Perhaps I needed it to make this night bearable. “I wore pretend like it was my second skin, not gloves to take off.” Liar. Liar. Liar. Damned liar. I’d never lied this badly in my existence.

“You know I see colour shadows when people go through emotion.”

A smirk pulled on my lips. “I’m told you can’t see mine.”

“Correct.” He leaned forward, our faces a hair away from touching. His heat began enveloping me and I melted. The cold dispelled from the room and the glass condensed on my hand, it felt like flowers could bloom from the tip of my fingers. “Your lies have a taste, my love. Not a colour.”

All amusement wiped from my expression. “It is so loud,” I whispered over his lips, running a finger down his chest and over his roaring heart. “Making fun of me and my pain. Reminding me of how it beats while my mother’s has stilled. Beating while my own is comatose.” Ice glided over my fingers, extending beyond my nails to form sharp claws. I placed them on his chest, digging them on his skin just slightly. My limbs shook with rage and the outside shook from thunder. “I want to rip it out. What taste fills your tongue now?”

His hand slid over mine, dragging it lower down on his chest. The touch burned my clammy skin. “There. You don’t want to hurt your pretty hands on bone.”

“Don’t touch me.” With that, I pulled my hand away and marched to a sofa braced by the corner of the room.

The room was violently spinning, but I could feel his gaze on me when I gave him my back. My traitorous skin zapped with electricity at the attention of the man that did worse things to a few other organs.

Sick. Sick. Sick. He had made me sick. He was my sickness.

The chair he rested on creaked, footsteps left the room and then water ran from an adjoining room.

Giving to the alcohol induced dizziness, I dropped to the sofa. Adjusting the pillow at the hand rest, I laid myself on the uncomfortably small space. The velvet friction against my skin sent my senses on a buzz. I tried to focus on the clapping thunder outside that shook trees and poles, the screeching sound ticking with each blow of wind and a shadow wavering on the ceiling. It was uncomfortably silent otherwise. With a sigh, I turned on my stomach. The flooring was beautiful and dizzying, I liked it. Intricate violet patterns curled and twisted on the tiles like a maze, and I traced a finger over them. How long would I have to spend my nights with him? My heart raced like a silly thing, but my brain raked with solutions to end this situation. Kill him. Imprison him. Break the bargain. Force him. Take his brother and mother. Threaten him. Sigh. Why had I not done just that? Why had I allowed him to manipulate me into this ridiculous bargain?

A blanket was thrown over me. “Was there not enough fabric for a proper nightgown?” The edge of his voice was menacing. I’d never heard him like this before.