Page 15 of Married By Wind
18
Ulika
Ilaced my fingers together as Vinn spoke, because what I’d seen was potent as though I’d been there.
“I was young once, and yes, I know what you’re thinking. I’m a god. But I was much younger than I am now,” Vinn began. “I grew up among the fae, and in my youth and immaturity, I was arrogant, rather boastful about my unique skills, and as you mentioned earlier, mischievous. Magic is common among the fae, but many were jealous of my power. They were attuned to nature, had beautiful gardens where all plants thrived, and tamed monsters. But not the wind. Never the wind.
“One day, the son of the king and I were battling to best each other with our powers, a friendly competition, but a child crossed our path, and our magic killed him. The king took us to Val Ether for the gods to judge us. The gods took the king’s son to live in their halls, as though that would be punishment. But to me, they gave the harsher edict because I was a god. They sent me where no one else wanted to go, to the wastelands of the desert. They believed it was my fault, but it was an accident. It was, and is, never my intent to harm any living creatures. But that is my shame, my lesson from the past. Each time I see a child, I strive to make them happy, and the rosebush I took from the gardens of the fae is a reminder that one must endure thorns to find what is beautiful.”
A lump swelled in my throat. His story, and the knowledge something had wounded him, made me feel closer to him. It made him seem more mortal. What had happened was a defining moment in his everlasting life, and he’d chosen to share with me. “I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said, taking his hand in mine.
This time, the flashes I got were of warmth and desert. As though by sharing his tale, he’d freed himself from the earlier memories of lush lands and death.
“Are you happier? Now that you’re here,” I asked.
I meant the desert, but he mistook my meaning and squeezed my hand, his voice dropping to a husky tone. “I’m happier now that I’m with you.”
He was flirting again, reminding me of days of old when I assumed he was mortal like me. Shadows of sorrow squeezed my heart. But he wasn’t leaving today. When he was gone, it would hurt, but each moment with him I’d treasure. “I did not know that gods could suffer. I assumed everything was well, but what you’ve told me has shown a different side of your character.”
Vinn turned my hand over in his, tracing the lines on my palm. “Mortals are flawed, and having a god in their midst brings out the ugliness within them. Like a mirror reflecting what they cannot attain. The gods of Val Ether decided it would be better for gods to be alone, above all mortals. But mortals were not created to be alone, so why should gods be?”
Something inside me twitched as his fingers moved over my skin. For all his might and strength, he was lonely. Why hadn’t I seen that before? Ignoring the warnings within my soul, I rose. “It is cold outside. Come sleep in the tent, and I do mean sleep.”
He gave a low chuckle. “My dear wife, I understand this is temporary. I have no dishonorable intentions.”
Wife. Right. We were married, but he had not chosen to exercise his marital rights. I pivoted away from him, because when I held his hand, I sensed something else from him: a desire with intentions that were very dishonorable, and in my weakness, I wanted him to act on those desires.
Rubbing my shoulders, I offered an excuse to explain my actions. “It’s chilly at night and even colder out here because we’re alone. I’m used to sharing a tent with Anat, and we don’t have the warm bodies of the tribe and livestock to keep the warmth in.”
Vinn touched my arm. “You don’t have to explain. I’ll keep you warm. I must admit, I’m pleased you asked me instead of Nika. She probably would have rejected you, being the most passive animal I’ve ever met. Does nothing bother her?”
Laughing at the idea of snuggling with Nika, I poked him in the ribs. “She smells. I don’t know the last time she took a bath. The stink of her in the tent is not worth it.”
He laughed too, and the sound sent warm vibrations fluttering in my belly. “Speaking of, we should find water soon.”
“I agree. Our food is running low too. Mama only packed enough for five days, but you know the paths of the desert.”
Vinn did not reply immediately. Rubbing the back of my neck, I bit back my next question and used reasoning to reassure my growing concern. As the god of wind, Vinn blew across the desert daily, and his knowledge would help us find the sand devils. Right?
“We’ll figure it out in the morning. The desert has always given to those who need.”
“That hasn’t been my experience,” I admitted dryly. “But perhaps you will change my luck.”
When he did not reply, I tilted my head back for one last look at the silver stars and the pale light of the moon glowing far away in the night sky. Shadows moved, and again came a bead of fear. I was alone in the expanse. Shivering, I opened the tent flap. When I peered back, Vinn was right behind me, and suddenly I was nervous at what I’d asked of him.
The tent flap let in little light as I lay down on the rug. A moment later, he was beside me and my fears evaporated. The previous two nights, I’d shivered in my thin clothes while he’d sat outside, and my fears had kept me from asking until I was reminded of words of wisdom Jadda had shared.Sometimes all you need to do is ask the gods. The worst they’ll say is no and you’ll be no better off than you were before. But what if they said yes?
Vinn slid his arms around me, pulling my back against his chest. “Warmer?” he murmured into my hair.
“Yes,” I whispered breathlessly, wondering if he would be so bold as to try anything else.
I may have imagined him kissing the back of my head, and that was the last thing I recalled before I drifted into a dreamless sleep.
19
Vinn
Ulika slept soundly in my arms all night long, but I got little sleep. I breathed in her scent, for just holding her made me ache. I’d missed her. Joy filled my chest because she’d let me in. Our physical proximity only mirrored the connection we’d shared under the stars. Her presence eased the rawness of my soul, and the hushed warnings of the future became nothing more than distant whispers. There in the tent, I held on to one truth. We belonged together.
