Page 43 of A Winter Courtship
Lutoth had done everything he could to prove he wasn’t her. He’d stayed still for a year! And for the past four weeks, he’d ignored the call of the wind until his body ached with longing. Until the tension ate away at him.
Ulrich had said he’d give Lutoth a chance. But he hadn’t. He’d still expected Lutoth to leave. The moment Lutoth had gotten upset, Ulrich had thrown it in his face.
He lifted his arms. The gale wrapped around him. Embracing him. Caressing him.
He gazed towards Ores.
There was no home there for Lutoth with Ulrich.
Lutoth.The wind sang his name.Lutoth.
Lutoth had no reason to deny the wind’s call.
ChapterTwenty-Seven
The wind gusted outside. Ulrich kept staring out the entryway into the darkness, hoping for Lutoth to reappear. Ulrich needed to apologise and promise to do better.
But why would Lutoth believe him? Ulrich had had a perfect opportunity to tell his father who Lutoth was, but he hadn’t.
The fight with Lutoth swirled round and round his head until he felt sick and light-headed. He paced back and forth through the smithy. Then froze. There amongst the ash and dust lay the Solstice gift from Lutoth. He leaned down and picked it up.
Only a few minutes ago, Lutoth had been with Ulrich, happy and ready to spend the night together. He’d given Ulrich this lace. Promised to fuck him. Then Ulrich had hurt him.
Soot and dirt marred the gift that had been pristine white. He tried to wipe it clean but only managed to make it worse, spreading the sooty stains with his dirty fingers. He grabbed a bowl and ducked outside, filling it with snow.
It melted quickly by the forge. He washed the lace, trying to bring it back to its original state. But no matter how much he rubbed, he couldn’t do it. The black marks lessened, but now the lace seemed a beige-brown colour.
He’d ruined it.
Just like he’d ruined his relationship with Lutoth.
Ethel entered the smithy, hooves clomping on the floor. She clearly wondered what Ulrich was still doing in here.
“I made a mistake, Ethel.” Ulrich stood and stepped closer to her, burying his fingers in her fur, trying to seek some comfort from her warm, solid body. “I hurt him, and now he’s gone. I betrayed him. I let him down.” His eyes stung with unshed tears.
Ethel nudged him with her nose. Then she turned, walked to the door, and waited. Ulrich packed up the smithy and followed her out. She led him to the cabin. Ulrich glanced outside once more before closing the door behind them.
The house felt empty. Cold. Any cosiness and warmth gone. The greenery and gifts around the room just reminded him of what he’d lost.
Ulrich fed Ethel and filled her water bucket. He started a fire in the stove, but it didn’t chase away the chill. At some point, he went to bed. Or lay in it, at least.
He reached out, touching the cold sheets where Lutoth should be sleeping. The expression of pain on Lutoth’s face seared into his brain. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to force the image from his mind.
Why couldn’t he have stood up to his father when it mattered the most? Why hadn’t he been prepared? He’d just hoped he could put it off a little longer. Hoped he could have a perfect Solstice with Lutoth. And look where that had gotten him.
Why couldn’t he be brave? Be strong? Why was he such a coward?
He squeezed his eyes shut. Each shaky breath hurt.
And why had he told Lutoth not to fly away like his mother? Ulrich knew that was a sore spot for Lutoth. Ulrich had just panicked.
He dozed fitfully, regret and guilt churning through his body. He tossed and turned for hours, unable to stay still, berating and hating himself for his weakness.
Ethel’s heavy, clomping steps approached the bed. Her gaze lingered on the spot where Lutoth slept. She nuzzled at the sheets as if she might find Lutoth hiding amongst them.
“He’s not here, Ethel.”
She stared at Ulrich and nuzzled the sheets again. Then she walked to the door and stared at it as if that might make Lutoth appear.
