Page 86 of Blood Beneath the Snow

It landed one ring away from the bull’s-eye, and I threw a fist in the air, reenergized with triumph. “Did you see that?”

I turned to ask the Hellbringer, but he was already there, fire in his eyes as he placed his palms on either side of my face to pull me in for a blistering kiss. The dagger in my other hand clattered to the floor as I relaxed into him, our bodies melding along every curve and plane to fit like puzzle pieces.

“Perfect,” he murmured between kisses, bending his knees and placing his palms on the backs of my thighs. I understood his silent request and jumped, wrapping my legs around his waist. The endless neediness clawing at my rib cage for him was new. I took a steadying breath, trying not to become overwhelmed.

He walked me to the table and set me down on it. I ran my nails through his hair, tugging lightly on the dark strands, and he groaned.

I hummed and tried to pull him back in for another kiss, but his hands on my wrists stopped me. “No more tonight,” he said softly.

I wanted to scoff. A pair of pretty gray eyes was apparently all it took for me to lose myself to lust. Propping my feet up on the discarded chair closest to me, I nodded and placed my chin on my knees, wrapping my arms around my shins.

The Hellbringer—no, Søren—brushed a stray lock of hair behind my ear before leaning over with his hands on the table on either side of me, bringing us almost to the same eye level. “You’re beautiful,” he said. “I’ve never told you before, I don’t think.”

We stared at each other for a long moment. I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him I thought he was beautiful, too? It was the truth, but I worried he might think I was growing soft. Instead, I let the words hang in the air for a while before answering with a quiet “Thank you.”

He blinked and seemed to return to himself. Clearing his throat, he stepped away from the table and began assembling ingredients from the shelves surrounding us. “Tell me what’s on your mind, Princess.”

I hid a smile. His previous iterations of the nickname weredisparaging, condescending; when I’d dreamed of him using it differently, it had still been a command. The thought of it being sweet, endearing, had never crossed my mind. But my smile faded as I considered what to say. “Everything.”

He hummed his understanding and I closed my eyes, letting the darkness soothe me with the sounds of his cooking. “The war. The Trials. I’m a different person now than I was when you first stole me away. I feel so much responsibility for my people. I would save them all if I could—even the Lurae. But none of that is possible if I don’t win. My brothers were all raised knowing they’d kill each other one day. I knew it would happen. Still, it’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, watching the life drain from Erik and Björn. Even if I hate them both.”

The smell of cooking meat filled the room and my stomach grumbled loudly. “Also, I’m hungry, apparently,” I added.

Søren laughed. “You look like you haven’t eaten all day. I’m not surprised.”

Tilting my head to the side so that my cheek rested on my knees, I watched him. “I can’t save everyone I want to.”

His back was turned, unaware of my watchful eye. His shoulders stiffened slightly at my statement. Perhaps he read through the lines—realized I wanted to save him, too.

“You’ll save as many as you can.” Søren’s reply was calm as he stirred and added fragrant spices to the meal. “Not everyone wants to be saved. Not everyone can be. It’s unfortunate, but it’s reality. You can’t spend your life hating yourself for the choices you make. You won’t save anyone that way.”

“It’s just…” I toyed with the words, wondering whether I should voice them. “Is there any point to being together? When we’ll have to go our separate ways soon?”

The thought had been wandering in and out of my consciousness all day, but I’d refused to acknowledge it, forcing it back until now,when it slithered forward to curl insidiously in my mind. Especially because I couldn’t stop wondering if this was exactly how Arne had felt.

And if I were Arne in this situation, with the Hellbringer in my place—accepting affection but nevertrulyreturning it—it would be unbearable. I wouldn’t make a fool of myself that way. Better to know now.

The instant the question left my mouth, the clatter of cooking stopped abruptly. Before I knew it, Søren was in front of me again, hand under my chin, tipping my face up to meet his gaze. I swallowed thickly.

“Revna,” he said, voice low. “If you don’t want to do this, if our uncertain future is too much, then I understand. But to me? This is more than worthwhile. I would trade everything for a single day with you. If you disappeared tomorrow, I’d still see your face every time I made a decision for the rest of my life.”

Why was my vision blurring slightly? Was I tearing up?

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to mine. “If you want this, then so do I. And if you don’t, say it now—I swear to you I’ll never mention it again.”

I let out a shaky breath. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, of course I want this. I wantyou.”

His smile could have ended the war and melted the wastes, it was that radiant.

That night, we sparred.

I was grateful, despite my injury, that Søren didn’t hold back. We fought as vigorously as always, and tonight it was easy to see my form was improving. I could go for longer before begging for a break, and he needed significantly more strength to overpower me.

“Good,” he said as we finished for the evening. “I’m impressed.”

I smiled as we hung up our weapons. I hadn’t slept with Aloisa in the bed for several days now.

“I do have a question, though,” Søren continued.

---