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“Please, don’t say no, Snow.” Teeny swallowed hard, as if the exchange had upset him, too. “We need you.”
“Teeny,” Grimm barked, likely warning his friend not to say too much.
“I’ll let you know my decision,” I replied.
Spine rigid and hands clasped under my armpits, I gunned down the hall, each step feeling like a rock smashing into my ribcage. Teeny’s voice repeated over and over in my mind, and I couldn’t escape it, no matter how much I tried. I was going to go mad…either from the dwarf’s desperate request or the constant reminder of my cowardice. Under the weight of the dwarves’ expectations, my eyes filled with bitter tears. I didn’t know if I was up to it mentally. How much more pain and horror could I handle? Did I have the strength to fight my stepmother when she had a paid army and magic behind her? The resistance had only a handful of poor shifters under its belt. We were outnumbered, untrained, weak, and at serious risk of death if we went up against her mercenaries. Hadn’t I had enough death on my hands to last me a lifetime?
***
The doorto my room bust open, calling awake the crystal on my nightstand and dragging me from my slumber. Startled, I sat up, blinking, shielding my eyes from the brightness. My heart sped up like crazy, beating so hard I swore my bed rocked from it. Had my stepmother’s mercenaries arrived to kill me? Out of instinct, I prepared to fight, my fists raised.
“Wakey, wakey, Snow,” someone said.
At the foot of my bed stood Teeny, dressed in a brown cloak that blended in with the walls.
I pressed a hand to my chest. “Teeny. What are you doing here?”
He shrugged, his lips twisting with a cheeky smile as his gaze dipped to my chest. “You’ve been underground a week now. It’s time to get some fresh air. We’re going fishing. Want to come?”
I glanced down at the white cotton nightgown one of the resistance ladies had given me. My hard nipples poked through the fabric from the cold breeze that had swept into my room. I crossed one arm over my chest.
“Get out, you little pervert,” I said, throwing one of my pillows at him.
My outrage only made him laugh harder. Once he calmed down, he held out his hand, offering me a cloak, one identical to his own. “Thought you could do with some fresh air. Staying locked away in your room isn’t healthy.”
Thank the sea god.After being stuck in my cell for so long, I jumped at the chance to get out into nature as much as possible.
His eyebrows arched. “Maybe the fresh air will help with your decision.”
Sea God!The little pervert wasn’t going to let me hear the end of it, was he?
“What time is it?” I asked, changing the subject and rubbing the crusty sleep from my eyes.
“After breakfast,” Teeny replied with his trademark smile.
Mid morning? How had I slept in so late? Once the light had crept in through my cell window, I’d always been wide awake. This underground thing tricked my brain into thinking it was night and allowed me to oversleep.
“Why didn’t anyone wake me?” I asked, scrambling to put on a long purple gown I’d inherited from someone.
In truth, I was dying for a bath…hadn’t had a proper one in almost a week, thanks to water rations running low. Grimm had given the order for everyone to remain belowground. Hordes of pirates had raided villages to the south and had carried loads of shifters down the Wildfire Mountains.
The whole week I’d been fighting an itch to get out and explore. The old Snow wanted out, to get some fresh air, to save Poseidon from the underground stables and take him for a ride, although I’d have to remain close to the compound for my own safety. ButI’dinsisted we stay where it was safe. Still, the old Snow never let me rest, reminding me of my obligation to the resistance, contributing to my guilty conscience. I swear, between her and Teeny, who dropped hints at every meal, I was going to scream.
“Meet you upstairs at the cave’s entrance,” he said, tossing the cloak onto my bed, giving me a smile before exiting.
I shoved my feet into my boots, laced them, and threw on the cloak in a matter of moments. Then I was hurrying along the passages, winding my way up to one of several entry points for the tunnel network.
Teeny and a few of his dwarf friends waited for me.
One of them, a pile of muscles with a beard, wore a wolf’s jaw and skull over his head. The pelt from the animal draped over his chest. If one of the wolf shifters caught him wearing those things, he’d be a dead man.
Another had a silk scarf wrapped around his head. Fur poked out from his boots. His cloak, stitched with cotton from the spiders in Utaara, swathed over one shoulder. A man of fine taste. He completed his look with a ridiculous, thin moustache that curled above his lips, which he proceeded to stroke.
The last dwarf was decked out in chainmail armor, as if he intended to go to war with the Fae soldiers from the Darkwoods. He carried an axe two sizes too big for him. But he bore its with ease, as if it weighed nothing, or perhaps he was very strong. His cheeks and nose were sharp, almost like the edges of the weapon he held. Eyes as bright as steel stared at me.
“Hello there, sweet thing,” the dwarf wearing the fine clothes said, grabbing my hand. His grasp was firm, and he refused my objections to the kiss he left on my knuckles. “The name’s Rake.”
“Hello,” I replied when he released me, rubbing the top of my hand, not because I disliked the kiss, but out of habit…the whole not-wanting-to-be-touched issue I had going on. Some of these dwarves made it really hard, wanting to touch me all the time and not respecting my space.
