Page 92 of Storm of Desire
"Are you all right?" he askedagain.
"No."
His grip on her arm softened. "A little further, Árja. We're nearly there. You can dothis."
Blood still dripped from her nose, and she could barely see. Somehow they made it to the top of the hill, and then she was staggering over the crest of it. The world existed in a thousand different planes in front of her, crystalline lines running through everything. "Get me out ofhere."
Her knees gave way, and the last she knew, Haakon swept her up into hisarms.
16
Haakon restedhis wrists on his knees by the fire as he waited for Árdís towake.
The night sky loomed above them, and he'd managed to put several miles between them and thedrekiwarriors who'd been hunting them down. He didn't think they'd be coming after them, especially at night, but he didn't dare rest. Not until Árdísawoke.
If shewoke.
Árdís had done something, and it had terrified the otherdreki. He'd thought her magic compromised with the cuff on her wrist, but an enormous flamingdrekiof pure green light—like the colors streaking across the horizon right now—had burst from her skin and driven the othersaway.
And then she'dcollapsed.
Slowly he focused on polishing his sword, on the rasp of the whetstone gliding down the oiled edge of the blade. Today felt like he'd stepped into a new world, one where nothing he knew seemedsecure.
"He'smine!"
The words kept echoing through his head. He'd seen the anguish upon her face, and the knife coming toward him, and though he couldn't help himself, he knew he was the reason she'd managed to touch this newmagic.
Setting the sword aside, he crossed toward her, checking her color. Her nose had stopped bleeding, but he didn't like the heat of her skin, or the sweat at her temples. It was a brisk night, and though she was wrapped tenderly in his furs, she shouldn't have been this warm to thetouch.
Árdís murmured feverishly as he cupped his hand over her forehead. "Don't go," she whispered, and her eyes blinked open, though they stared right through him. "Don't go. Please don't leaveme."
"Árja." He brushed the back of his fingers down the smooth slope of her cheek. "Árja, you're dreaming. You're safe. I'm here. I'm not goinganywhere."
The two smallest fingers on her right hand curled around his pinkie. Árdís burrowed her face against his thigh and settled back intosleep.
It was a pose they'd assumed so many times in the past. His throat felt dry. He'd been struggling to understand who his wife truly was, but the hardest part was comprehending that the Árja he knew was still there. Along with a powerfuldrekiprincess who faced battles he couldn't evenimagine.
She was both a stranger—and the one person in this world he knewintimately.
And she'd lovedhim.
He finally believed what she'd been telling him lastnight.
Settling the curve of his spine against a boulder, he stretched his legs out in front of him, and ran a hand through her unbound hair. Árdís curled a hand over his thigh and settled against him, her entire body softening into sleep as if she felt safe there at hisside.
Haakon tucked her hair gently behind her ear. Despite all of his best intentions, it was clear he wasn't going to be able to walk away from thisunscathed.
But maybe he didn't have to walkaway.
She wantedhim.
But something was keeping her from his side, and despite her declaration last night, he didn't think it was merely the inability to give him children, or both their worldscolliding.
"What are you thinking?" came a silky whisper from herlips.
Her eyelashes fluttered, but she merely pressed her face into his thigh, as if she wasn't yet ready to stop touchinghim.
"Árja." His fingers stilled on her temples. "How are youfeeling?"
