Page 129 of Beneath a Shattered Sky
“Here.” He slams a bundle of furs into Caed’s chest. “I got these for you in Illidwen. I was waiting for you to drop the proud act and ask for them.”
Caed blinks. “Waiting for me to ask?”
Jaro shrugs. “I planned on bargaining for you to shut up for a few hours in exchange, but you seem to have learned when to shut your mouth since you broke out of that camp.”
It’s true. Aside from a few rare moments, Caed has been unusually quiet since then. I put it down to the fact that Gryffin is constantly talking to Prae, taking his main source of conversation away from him, but even his sarcastic quips seem to have dried up.
Trying to ask him if he’s okay with my eyes doesn’t work, because he won’t look at me as Titania returns my cloak and offers me a soft smile.
“Males,” she mouths, as if the rest of the Guard allowing Caed to freeze is just some strange form of masculine banter.
Drystan takes it from her and wraps me in it so tightly that I’m pretty sure he’s at risk of cutting off my air supply.
“When we reach the next village, your ass is going to be so red,” he mutters under his breath. “I told you how important it was to keep your furs on in this Court. Caed can’t die, and if his dick gets frostbite, all the better.”
“I think I’d rather ride with Bree,” I mutter under my breath, sighing as the heat he throws off becomes scorching.
His arms come around me, spurring Blizzard forward before anyone can follow through on my request.
“Don’t take your cloak off for anyone ever again.”
“Why, I think I see a freezing squirrel over there.” I coat my voice with mock horror. “Let me go and offer it my gloves.”
Lore cackles, but the sound cuts off suddenly, turning to a curse. I can’t see behind me, but I know something on his person has probably caught fire.
“You’re even more short-tempered than usual,” I remark, keeping my voice even and quiet enough to be private. “Is it because we’re getting closer to Calimnel?”
Drystan’s hands tighten on the reins, the leather of his gloves crinkling. “That’s a ridiculous question.”
And the fact that he dodged it tells me I’m right.
“Too bad.” I shrug, trying for an unaffected air that I’m not sure I fully succeed with. “Because I would sympathise with that, if it were the case.”
“Sympathy is a weakness they’ll exploit.”
“Perhaps,” I admit. “But I’d take that chance if there was something I could do to make you feel better.”
He’s silent, a long warm breath rushing over the back of my neck as he thinks. “Do as I say. That will make me perfectly content.”
I pause, considering his words, trying to find the logic under the cold ruthlessness he’s coloured it with.
He once told me that being in control in the bedroom allowed him to relax. Does that apply here, too? Is he making rules to give himself the illusion that he has power over our situation?
“If we didn’t have to go,” I whisper. “I wouldn’t ask it of you.”
His body softens around me. There’s a pause, like he’s choosing his words carefully, and then a sigh of defeat. “I know,huntress. But we do, and while I may dislike the citadel, I value our realm’s safety, and yours, above a little discomfort.”
That doesn’t make it better, but I lean back and press a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw, anyway. I’m rewarded with only a fractional stiffening of his body this time, before he kisses my temple in return.
“I’m still spanking your ass for that stunt,” he mutters, then his voice drops, becoming husky with desire. “And you’re going to love it.”
Thirty-Nine
Rhoswyn
Three days later and we're still trudging through snow. Drystan pushed hard to ensure we can spend each night in the safe warmth of the villages, and I’m thankful for it. But when he draws us to a stop beneath a sheltered overhang in the foothills we’ve been traversing all day, it’s clear that tonight we’ll be making do without the comforts that have made this trip bearable on the others.
“Set up camp here.” He waves a hand at the clearing and the snow melts, then evaporates, leaving a thick steam around.
