Page 16 of The Withering Wood

“Cerise!” Eirwen shouted from behind her, soft footsteps pattering closer. “What’re you doing?”

She didn’t respond, letting Eirwen see for herself. Her sister approached, the discarded bear pelt in her hands. Eirwen’s mouth popped open when she saw the shivering, naked prince, snow drifting on his bare skin.

“Cerise,” Eirwen chided, clicking her tongue. Her sister strode to the prince, wrapping the fur around his shoulders.

Cerise tensed, the prince’s fingers sliding over her sister’s, hand resting a little too long on Eirwen’s. He thanked her, his gaze filled with warmth as he looked upon her, a lecherous grin spreading beneath his beard. She’d seen that expression bestowed on Eirwen one too many times. The yearning to grasp her ethereal beauty. To devour it. If she’d known what it meant earlier in life, she could’ve spared Eirwen so much suffering.

But she knew what it meant now, and she’d never let her experience that devastation again.

Cerise whipped Beloved in her grasp and aimed the dagger point at the prince’s heart. “Stay away from her,” she growled.

Adjusting the bear’s pelt in his hands, the prince gazed upon Cerise with a curious expression. After a moment’s thought, he said, “If I had lustful designs on one of you, it would not be her. I prefer my women looking like they won’t break.”

Cerise paused, uncertain what to say to that, let alone how to feel. Complimented? Outraged for Eirwen’s sake?

“No offense, milady,” the prince added, glancing at Eirwen, whose face brightened with a smile.

“None taken.”

Cerise glared at her sister. She had no reason to be this gleeful, especially since he just insulted her. This man who Cerise told several times to leave them alone yet still stood in front of them.

“A trail cuts through the lower hills to the north, which is the closest path back to Tyrnoraen. Though since you made it here, you probably know that.” Cerise stepped away, turning her back to the prince and motioning for Eirwen to follow her. “Come, we have much to do today.”

“Wait, please let me explain.” The prince’s palm landed on her shoulder, tugging to swing her around. Yet as soon as his meaty hand landed on her body, Cerise shuddered with the recollection of all the unwanted touches that’d ever tugged and clawed at her skin. She whirled on her heel despite the lance of pain in her knee and whacked his arm away, the bones of their forearms smacking. The strength of her strike unbalanced the prince, and he swayed back with the force of her shove.

“Don’t you dare touch me,” Cerise seethed through gritted teeth. “If you ever do so again, your arm will be added to the collection of body parts you owe me.”

The prince raised his hands in surrender as best he could while still holding the discarded bear pelt around himself. “I apologize.”

Well. That was something she’d never expect to hear from a prince.

“Perhaps we should listen to what he has to say before he goes?” Eirwen suggested, voice as delicate and soothing as trickling water. “It wouldn’t be right to send him on his way without warming him up and offering some food for the journey. He can tell us his story and then leave.”

“No. I do not want him in our house.”

“Come, now. You let him rest inside when he was a bear. He’s less dangerous to us now.”

Cerise stared at her sister, dumbfounded.

An embarrassed flush crept over Eirwen’s cheeks. “What I mean is, without his teeth and body mass, it’ll be harder for him to kill us.”

“I’m not worried about his teeth. I’m worried about his words.”

The prince lifted a hand to his face, resting three fingers over his nose so that his palm covered his mouth.

“What on Azkanix’s cursed earth are you doing?”

“Demonstrating I mean you no harm, in the same manner I did as a bear.” The prince paused, shrugged. “Perhaps it isn’t as effective without a snout.”

It wasn’t, yet still something softened in Cerise. Or maybe gave up. Despite her physical and verbal aggression toward him, the prince remained patient and understanding. The calm of his demeanor doused the flame of her indignation, and she didn’t have the energy to rile herself up again at this moment. She needed to get on with the day. And with Eirwen determined to help him, it would be easier to comply. The sooner they spoke to him, the sooner they could move past these strange few days that had upended their lives.

“Get on with it, then,” Cerise grumbled.

Relief washed over the prince’s face, stepping behind Eirwen who glided to the cabin. As he walked past Cerise, she whispered, “Don’t try anything stupid. If you do, she’ll either freeze your balls or I’ll chop them off.”

Pity flickered across the prince’s rugged, ice-crusted face when he met her gaze. As if he saw through the words into Cerise’s bruises.

She wanted to punch the expression off his face.