Page 94 of A Sword of Ice
“I don’t know if I can promise that.” He sounded so sad. What she didn’t know was if he was sad because he was thinking of the past—of Mairin—or of the future.
Her fingers dug into the roots of his beard, gripping his chin and forcing his gaze on her. “Promise me.” The vehemence in the words were clear. “I can’t lose you. Not like that. Promise me if you see a wound, you won’t push your magic to the brink like that. You can help, but you have to know your limits.”
They were both silent for a moment, their hearts beating in tandem against one another’s chests, a rough push back and forth, a fight between their bodies while they waited.
Finally, Ryker sighed. “Fine,” he said. “I… I promise.”
Shula bent down and pressed her lips firmly against his. “Thank you,” she whispered against his mouth. He reached for another kiss and this time their mouths opened, their tongues explored, and Shula no longer felt afraid.
41
Selfish Mistakes
Julius rubbed a big hand across his abdomen. He’d never sustained such an injury before. There had never been any need to be healed by Ryker, so it came as a surprise to feel the aftereffects of it. Phantom tugging of pain pulled where the wound had been, but when he tugged his shirt up, his skin was smooth and unmarred.
He took in a breath and raked his hand through his hair. That whole thing had been such a cluster fuck. He was usually levelheaded when it came to missions, but with Iona involved, he found he couldn’t think straight. His possessive Fae instincts tried to overtake all logical thoughts, that combined with the blinding rage of using his magic made him irrational.
He’d charged into the fray without listening to his prince, desperate to get to his mate and help. It had landed him with an iron sword in the stomach and a painful truth he hadn’t been ready to hear.
Like the fact that his mate had fucking lied to him. He didn’t particularly know how to feel about that.
Fucked over.
Iona was his mate, and the fact that she hadn’t confided in him about what she was thinking and feeling didn’t sit right with him. If she didn’t trust him, why had she even agreed to be his mate? Had she saw an opportunity in him to save her sister? Was she just using him?
He liked to think he understood women, that he knew them. You couldn’t fake pleasure like the kind Iona displayed. But pleasuring her body wasn’t the only aspect of being mates that mattered, and he’d been so fucking blind to the rest.
He sighed and raked a hand over his face.
Footsteps alerted him to another presence. Then came the scent of fur and drool, making him smile softly to himself for a brief moment before Iona and her familiar came into view.
He watched her familiar walk away and plop himself down near a tree and rest his head on top of his paws. His eyes remained opened and focused on Julius with a warning.
Julius shook his head and looked back to Iona.
She stood a few feet away from him, looking forlorn. Her hair was frizzy and pushed away from her ears, held back by a strip of dark leather. He noticed her fingers beating haphazardly against her thighs. From where he stood, he could hear her heart pounding rapidly in her chest and make out the way she swallowed tightly.
He was angry with her. In fact, he was fucking pissed. He had been lied to, and now he was questioning their relationship, their bond, when he shouldn’t have been questioning it at all. Julius had no way to know what was real or fake. He wanted to lash out, break down a tree and snap the trunk over his knee. He’d done it before; it wouldn’t take much.
But a bigger part of him realized that even though he felt betrayed, this couldn’t have been any easier for her. He knew very little about the situation, except that they’d taken her sister. Julius didn’t have any siblings that he knew of, but he knew what it was to fight for the things he wanted.
He’d grown up with the little people of the wood. They’d always taken the essentials he needed for survival. He’d savagely clawed his way through bodies to keep what he had or to get what they’d stolen back. He knew that a desperate need for survival could lead someone to do things they wouldn’t be proud of.
He could never imagine what it was like to lose a sister like she had. So, Julius wanted to be understanding. Even if it hurt.
He took a breath and prowled towards her. He saw the fear in her eyes as he approached, but she didn’t stagger back. It was perhaps a sign that she trusted him, or a sign that she thought she deserved whatever he wanted to dish out.
Once he was in front of her, he reached out and gripped both her hands, giving her a reassuring squeeze. That was all it took for the tension to melt out of her body. She drifted towards him, dropping her forehead against his wide chest and breathed in deeply. He did the same, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling.
She smelt sharp and sweet at once. Like mint and apples and ice. It was an intoxicating scent, something about it tranquil. Together, their scents mingled in a perfect pair. Like the woods during late autumn. When everything was ripe with fruits and ale, and wine permeated the air as the festivities to celebrating the upcoming winter began.
He didn’t want to think about how well they fit, though. Because he wasn’t even sure if they were going to last. Her heart beat faster and he could feel the pounding echoing against him, like she knew what direction his thoughts were taking.
Reluctantly, he pulled away, rubbing his thumbs across the pulse at her wrists.
“Iona,” he began. “We need to talk.”
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