Page 10 of The Longing

There are more heavy tapestries on the walls, although I’m pleased to note these are mostly garden scenes or animals, most of which I recognise, rather than like the one in the great hall. Thick rugs cover the floor meaning the entire room has a comfortable, almost cozy feel. One large window looks into the courtyard below, a comfortable seat set into the three-foot-thick wall.

I try the door Fenrother shoved me through, finding it locked, which is no great surprise. On my third circuit of the room itself, I find a breeze blowing at me between some panelling next to the bed, and when I press on it, a hidden door swings open into the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen in my life.

Vaulted like the bedroom, one end is entirely taken up with a deep stone bath. As I get closer, it automatically starts to fill from a carved spout (which looks like a dragon’s head,naturally), the hot water pouring to swiftly fill the bath which I could swim in.

As I watch the water and steam fill the room, I make a decision. I’m filthy, I ache, and if this bath is filling, then it would surely be rude not to take advantage.

Yes, it potentially means Fenrother gets another good look, but at this moment in time, given I’m his prisoner, I’m going to risk it. Why the hell not? If he’s going to eat me, I may as well be clean, even if I’d hope he’d choke on me.

I shrug off my clothing and dangle a toe into the water. It’s almost a perfect temperature, and I walk down the shallow steps before dropping below the surface to cover my entire body and rinse my hair.

Slowly, I move from the steps to the other side where there appears to be a depression within the stone and discover it fits my body comfortably, albeit it’s made for something much larger. It means I can sit with only my head out of the water and take full advantage of the way it eases my bones. The bathroom fills with steam, enclosing me like a blanket.

Is this a place Fenrother uses? Somehow I can’t imagine the growly Wyrm wanting to bathe, or wanting to use a bath this big and deep. He strikes me as more of a cold shower sort of male, given his bombastic, arrogant attitude so far.

The attitude which has him claiming I belong to him, and somehow, despite all evidence to the contrary, I am his mate.

For a start, terrifying me isn’t the best way to begin any relationship, and while plenty of him is easy on the eye, his ability to change mood in a snap is not going to endear him to anyone, least of all me.

I’ve spent the last seventeen years of my life with a woman whose mood I could never be sure of and whom I had to tiptoe around like she was a fragile flower to be sure she didn’t kick me out of the house or refuse me food.

Sure as hell, I’m not going to let anyone else do that to me, let alone a Wyrm from a place which is supposed to be a myth. Fenrother can do one.

I find myself smiling, despite everything, as I grow in confidence. Literally nothing can get any worse. My aunt wanted rid of me, so going back to the world beyond the veil isn’t an option. If Fenrother wants to eat me, then I’m dead anyway. I’m damned whatever happens.

Does this mean I can do what I want? The thought slowly crystallises in my mind. A thought which grows in size, becoming real. Becoming possible.

I think it does. I think I can stop being the frightened orphan and instead become a woman who doesn’t give a shit.

Confidence swells in my chest. I take advantage of the scented soap which is on the side of the bath to give myself a scrub and do something with my hair, wincing at the colour the water turns as I rinse myself off.

By the time my fingers have gone extra wrinkly, I’m about done with the bath. I climb the steps and look for a towel.

The steam means I’m struggling to see much at all. But as I feel around, there doesn’t appear to be anything available.

I probably should have checked before I went in. I chuckle to myself, the sound ringing up into the ceiling, my heart feeling light for the first time in a very long time.

Instead I search around for my clothes. The steam is clearing as the bath automatically drains, and as it does, I find my clothing is…missing.

It wasn’t like anything I owned was expensive or irreplaceable, but it was mine, and I’m rather annoyed that I’m, yet again, naked.

But it won’t last long. There has to be something I can wear or wrap around myself in the bedroom. I march over to the door, yank it open, and stride out into the bedroom.

Fenrother lounges on the bed. A fire is burning merrily in the large grate.

“Hello, little human,” he says with a smile he’s clearly borrowed from a crocodile.

I dart behind one of the pillars of the bed, pulling the heavy fabric around me, my earlier confidence about Fenrother having already seen more than enough swiftly dissipating.

“I burnt your clothing. You will not wear any from now on,” he says, as if he’s announcing what we’ll have for dinner.

“You did what?” I stare at him, my eyes travelling to the fire and back again.

“You do not wear garments anymore.”

“I’ll freeze to death!” Because that’s the important thing my brain can come up with at this moment, obviously.

I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted to kill another creature before, but right now, I would love for Fenrother to expire on the spot.

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