Page 24 of A Sword of Ice
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They walked for days,trudging through the frosty ground. Pretty soon, white flakes began to descend from the sky and coat the grass in a thin layer. By the time they reached Porir, Shula knew they’d be knee-deep in snow and cold.
As it was, she was trying not to shiver in her fur coat, but her hands trembled so badly, she was afraid she’d rip the map she was holding.
She’d paid more attention to the map than anything else on the whole journey so far. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the mesmerizing electric line that led them closer by the hour towards this new Elemental.
Shula wondered what the Fae would be like. Male? Female? What element did they wield? What were they like?
Doubts began to creep in. What if they were like her? Unsure and afraid. What if they weren’t? What if this Fae was stronger than Shula could ever hope to be? She wasn’t sure what worried her more.
If the Fae was stronger, then what would the others say? They’d have someone to compare Shula to. Ryker would have someone to compare Shula to. Someone possibly stronger, wiser. Maybe this Fae had the pride that Shula had lost and was just now gaining back.
Breaking off those thoughts, she shoved the map back into her pocket and stared forward. She didn’t want to think about those things. It didn’t do any good to assume, because she’d only hurt herself in the end.
All she could really hope for was that this new Fae would be willing to help them. That they made it there on time. Becausesomethingwas coming.
Shula just wasn’t sure what.
The light press of a hand against her back tore her attention away from wandering thoughts. Her head turned to meet Ryker’s black eye and saw a brief flash of concern.
“Okay?” he asked. His eye flicked to her hand, which was pulling her hair over her ears.
Fuck.
She smoothed out the strands and dropped her hand into her pocket. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m fine.”
He frowned as if he didn’t believe her. She hated that he could read her so easily, that she’d never been able to comfortably lie to Ryker. Because if anyone understood her, it was him. Even if he didn’t accept or like some aspects of her, he understood.
Just like she understood him.
They were imperfect pieces that meshed together and made a whole. Even with different edges and sharpness, they still fit somehow. There was no logical way to describe it.
She wondered if all mating partners felt like this. Like they fit together, but didn’t at the same time, a conundrum she was itching to decipher.
“I’m fine,” she reiterated, with a lot more conviction in her voice.
Ryker grunted and started forward. She watched his back, her brows furrowed. Ryker… he’d always made her feel insecure, because he’d always been able to read her. There was something about being his mate that left her feeling shy, unsure in ways she wasn’t comfortable with and didn’t really understand.
They had to figure out a way to navigate their sudden mated status, toe past the lines that had been drawn before and find something new. A different path, a new way to treat one another.
Shula shuffled to catch up with him and when she did, her hand reached for his, fingers clasping firmly between the spaces of his. He almost tripped up at the contact, head snapping to stare at her so hard, she was afraid he sprained a muscle.
She held tightly to him, feeling the raised ridges of scarred flesh against her palm. His touch warmed her, though it didn’t settle her unease.
“I’m afraid,” she confessed, her voice whispering softly between them so only he could hear it.
His grip tightened on hers, an invitation to elaborate. Funny, how she could feel uncomfortable but understand the silence so perfectly.
“What if this Fae is stronger than me?” She hated giving a voice to her insecurity, but there it was. Like a wound she’d ripped open to let bleed. “You already think I’m weak.” She fought the urge to take her fingers to her ears. “What if you see her and—”
Ryker yanked her to a sudden stop, nearly causing a prowling Weylyn to ram into their backs. He dodged, weaving around them with quick, lithe footsteps and went to catch up to the others.
The others who had no doubt heard her and were listening even now.
Her face heated.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ryker growled. “Just don’t.” She tried to force her gaze away, but he pulled her forward until their chests touched. His other hand came up to grip her chin hard enough to force their eyes to meet. His own were hard, the scars on his face pale compared to the olive, unmarked skin.
