Page 146 of Untempered
If it didn’t work, we were going somewhere as warm as the Steppes in the summer, and I was unwrappingallof my solstice gift, then letting her sleep all night in my arms. “Perhaps.” I could always trial her ideas while she slept somewhere secure. I stripped the gloves off my hands, taking the flint from her and ignoring the gray cast to my own nails. The pain wasn’t too bad yet. I’d be okay to do another trip, if I prepared well.
If this didn’t work, I didn’t know that it’d beworthdoing another trip, but hope was important. And I could give her that.
The fire crackled to life, and she crouched down before it, huddled deep in her cloak. I moved around, making sure each point I’d laid was lit to reduce the chance of the whole thing failing due to my knowledge of pyres, then crouched beside her to cut some of the wind.
She leaned into me, and my heart swelled. I took her into my arms, wrapping my cloak around her shoulders. We could’ve been riding. There was no point waiting and watching the kindling burn. But I didn’t try to hasten her out.
“You ever think about all the points in your life you made the wrong turn?” she asked me quietly.
Even in the last season I’d made more mistakes than I could count. “I try not to worry on them, but sometimes, yes.” I expected her to respond with some admission or question. When she didn’t, and we just sat together watching the fire climbing slowly over the damp kindling, I began to worry. There was one obvious turn she’d made very recently. “Are you rethinking what happened last night?”
She glanced over, eyes wide with shock. The fine veins around her eyes were clear beneath her skin, and I struggled not to react to that.
How many more days did I have being able to serve her?
“No. Somewhat.” My heart lurched, but she was frowning. “You mentioned difficulty saying no. I think…I think it’s also hard to ask for things?”
Relief rushed through me. “Does it help if I tell you I’d like you to ask for things?”
“No.”
I nodded and realized my heart was racing but settling down now. By the One, that was an adrenaline rush I hadn’t needed. “Is there a time when it’s easier to talk?”
Her eyes were back on the pyre, but I could still make out her shrug. “On the horses was easy. In advance. When—things aren’t happening.”
The image of her panting breaths and arched back lodged firmly in my brain. She hadn’t been talking then, that was for sure. Hunger swept through me, and I turned my attention firmly to the pyre.You are not getting hard while you burn a man.“We’ll chat on the way back, then.” It’d be a good lead-up to unwrapping my gift. “But that’s what made it a wrong turn? Not asking for what you wanted?”
“Oh, it wasn’twrong,as much as it wasnot absolutely everything I’ve ever had drift through my head.” She shrugged again. “I didn’t mean to confuse you. I’ve no complaints. Quite the opposite. I had a lot of fun. I just wish I’d done more, experienced more, and slept less.”
I was definitely getting hard while I burned a man. I hoped he’d understand. “So that question wasn’t prompted by last night?”
“No. No, of course not.” She put her hand on my knee. The flames were small, but the smoke billowed mightily. “There’ve been a lot of times in life I could’ve walked from the paved road. I never took them. Well, not until very recently, I suppose.” Her voice trailed off, and her hand moved off my knee. She hunched down, the picture of failure.
The icy wind crept into the tiny gaps between the threads of my clothes, working its way into my flesh. We sat in a heavy silence that felt right for the side of a pyre.
I should’ve been with Kadan, complaining about sand and playing darts, helping him recover from his injury and keeping his head whole while he supported a rebellion. I could clearly remember Luca’s dismissal as he’d spoken of Ylva’s strength, and the moment after Callum and I had spotted Audrey struggling in Mikus’ arms.
If I could do it all again, knowing what I did now, I’d need to go back further. I’d grab her in the orchard, kidnap her. She could hate me. She could even kill me. But Luca would have his bride, Kadan would have a suitable replacement king, and she’d be safe.
Her head rested on my shoulder. The thought of delivering her to Luca made my blood boil, and not from the oath. But what was the alternative? Send her to the Matri’sion tribes and never see her?
I was a selfish man.
“We should get back,” I told her.
“He isn’t burning yet,” she objected. “Fire cleanses.”
There was no way she could know that. The smoke was too thick, a consequence of the wet, green wood and the leaves that caught and flared. “Regardless,” I said, wishing I could feed her hope rather than stifle it, “I’m required to look after you. You are sort of important to me.”
She straightened like I’d sworn at her, standing. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
My gut twisted. I wanted to snatch her back and hold her close. I stood, too. “I’m not.”
She shook her head. “Of course you are. That’s only fair. It’s okay.” But it wasn’t. I couldn’t see her mouth or her brow. I couldn’t hear her breath to judge if it had caught at all, but I knew.
I knew, because her heart was too big tonotfeel horrible about it.
She turned to glance toward the horses, folding her arms hard beneath her breasts. I could see tiny black threads beneath that thin, almost translucent skin. I’d be free soon and the thought left me feeling hollow. “I’m sorry for a lot of things, Audrey. But if we do end up dying here, I won’t be sorry to be with you.”
