Page 64 of Blood Beneath the Snow

He didn’t answer. Instead, he fastened his cloak and adjusted his scabbard. Then, without a word, he strode out of the room and into the maze of hallways.

I only stared after him.

Hours later, when sleep eventually claimed me, the Hellbringer still had not returned.

When the Hellbringer’s weight pressedinto the mattress against me, I knew I was dreaming. But the haze of consciousness was too dense for me to care, and the fuzzy reality my brain summoned was peaceful.

I craved it.

Dimly, I registered that the mask was gone. But as my dream eyesfluttered open, it didn’t matter, because the Hellbringer was rolling over to me, pulling the blankets over us both to calm my shivering. His face was the last of my worries. “It’s cold. Let me keep you warm.”

I sighed. It was all I was capable of as the smell of him flooded my mind. “How do you always smell like that?”

His voice was still distorted even though the mask was gone. He chuckled, and the sound rumbled through my body. My toes curled beneath the blanket, a shiver of pleasure traveling up my spine with the sound. “Like what?”

“Like a forest.” I pressed my face to his chest, nuzzled there, content in his warmth. Here, there was no forced animosity hovering its angry head over us. Here, we were just two people enjoying each other’s company. “Like the wastelands.”

He placed his hand on the small of my back and rubbed gentle circles there. “Probably has to do with how much time I spend out there.”

The first press of his lips fell on my forehead. Gentle, sweet. The brush of his nose against my cheekbone sped the beating of my heart, and when one of the hands wrapped around me and ventured lower, over my ass with a squeeze, my cheeks heated. A harsh breath left me in a rush, my own hands coming to clutch the fabric over his chest.

He hummed, the vibration beneath my fingers sending a thrill through my stomach. Full lips dragged up and down my jawline. “You like that?”

I nodded. He was warm and inviting, the hard planes of his chest unyielding under my fingers.

“Say it,” he demanded, and in a half thought our clothes had disappeared, leaving us bare beneath the blankets. His weight pressed into me, and the lips at my throat turned to teeth scraping. “Tell me you like it, Princess.”

I couldn’t keep my legs from stretching out, reaching for what I desperately needed—him, in the soft place between my legs. Desire throbbed dangerously. My head was cloudy with the dream, foggy withwant, but I managed to gasp, “I like it. More? Please?”

“Good.” The approval in his voice was intoxicating, and I threw my head back. He shifted his weight downward until his cheek was resting on my sternum, giving his mouth access to the underside of my breast. The Hellbringer sucked a mark there, one hand reaching up to cradle my cheek and the other sliding down my body to find solace at my damp center. Softly, almost sweetly, he ran a fingertip over my entrance and swore. “Fuck. Never imagined you’d be wet for me.”

The dream blurred in a haze of pleasure then, my body conscious only of the imagined intrusion of his finger, a pair of dark eyes focusing on my face as the too-familiar voice went husky. “Gods, you’re beautiful. Love the way your mouth falls open when I push into you, like you can’t believe it. Like you’re afraid it’s going to break you.”

My breath came in ragged gasps, a shudder coursing over my spine. The pad of his thumb began coaxing my pleasure from me. A dark head of hair entered my vision as he bent over my chest, teeth closing carefully around the stiff peak of my nipple. My toes curled. I wanted him to bite harder, to take me closer to the edge of where pain and pleasure blurred. But words were impossible in this dream, especially as my body reacted to his every imagined touch.

“Can I watch?” he asked. “While you fall apart? Can I look into those pretty eyes while you clench around my fingers until you’re soft and pliable for me? Ready for my—”

Consciousness fell over me like a bucket of ice water.

I blinked back to awareness, my body tense beneath the blankets. For a long moment I was still and silent, unsure what to do. Ashuddering breath left me, the pent-up desire fading slightly. I held back my curse, clenched my teeth, forced myself to inhale slowly and acknowledge the truth.

I’d just had a sex dream about the Hellbringer.

With my fists squeezing so tightly that I knew my nails were leaving imprints on my palms, I lifted my head slightly to peer at the man himself. The Hellbringer was where he usually was: sleeping next to the fireplace, his head against the stone wall. For a second, my mind addled with inexplicable lust and frustration, I imagined myself walking over to him and pulling the mask off in one smooth motion. What face would I see, softened in sleep before it sparked into rage?

Was he handsome under the mask?

He’d better be. Otherwise that dream was pointless,I grumbled inwardly. I was still far from regaining my self-control, and I shook my head, trying to bring myself back. What the hell was I thinking?

I had no business dreaming of the Hellbringer maskless, naked, body pressed tightly against mine. Fingers in places they didn’t belong.

I shivered. Forcing the dream from my mind was nearly impossible when the thought of his dark voice whispering in my ear had me half undone. I hadn’t even touched myself, hadn’t even been touched by him.

When I moved to roll over, grumbling at the release I so desperately craved being so close and yet so far, I finally realized—more than a blanket covered me.

I slid the fabric of the Hellbringer’s long cloak between my fingers. It was finely made, the material thick enough to hold in heat and sturdy enough not to rip despite endless treks and what must have been years of wear. My hand grazed a few threads that were thicker than the others, a repair where the war had left a mark ofdamage. But the patch was so well done, it would never be noticed without a fine eye. It was clear the hand that had mended it was loving.

This cape meant a lot to someone. And in the winter mountains, during the heaviest snow season, giving up your source of warmth was foolish at best.

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