Of Thorns and Beauty by Elle Madison

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Ashadow grows in the distance, sailing toward us as if it is following the movement of the light above it. I squeeze Einar’s fingers, my mind running wild with the possibility that I might see something as mythical as a dragon.

Sure enough, the closer it gets, the easier it is to see the silver and pearlescent scales reflecting the soft glow of the torch light and fire stones around us.

Its large wings beat more slowly as it attempts to land nearly fifty yards away, sending a strong breeze through our makeshift camp.

It lands near the edge of the hill where several villagers have thrown raw meat and carcasses for its meal.

I stare, mouth agape, and watch it devour every last ounce of their offering, wondering how easy it would’ve been for the dragon to make a feast of us instead.

Everything about it is captivating, from the glowing embers in its nostrils to its shimmering white teeth and steely blue eyes.

Even Khijha is in awe as she observes the mountainous creature, her tail swaying softly, her eyes fixated.

It isn’t until the beast is finally flying away that I realize I have been squeezing Einar’s hand tightly the entire time. I relax my stiff fingers and applaud with the rest of the villagers once the dragon is headed back toward its home in the mountains.

Einar’s deep laugh sounds beside me, drawing my attention back to the moment.

“Amazing,” he says softly.

“It was. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I glance at him. “Jokith just keeps on surprising me.”

He nods, and a smile tempts the corner of his mouth as he hands me his stein of eiswein.

I debate for a split second before deciding to go for it. If ever there was a time to celebrate with a drink, it is on a night like tonight. Besides, it may be fascinating, but it is still freezing.

We lay there under the lights, watching them dance for us for several more hours.

The lights never fade, but they grow even brighter and more spectacular, as does the canopy of stars behind them. Some people around us eventually make their way into their small huts for the evening, while others continue to sip their wine and enjoy the heavenly phenomenon.

It isn’t long before I’m yawning, my eyelids becoming too heavy to appreciate the beauty above us any longer.

“Come, wife. We should sleep.” Einar stands and, with no notice, lifts me up onto my feet next to him.

My heart beats a heavy rhythm in my chest, and I blame it on how quickly he moved me.

Khijhana yawns and stretches next to us, then heads into the small igloo without any coaxing.

Einar scratches his head and chuckles. “She’s a smart one, isn’t she?”

“Indeed,” I add with a smile.

He holds out a lantern and gestures for me to follow her into the small frame. While I’m warm enough with my fur-lined clothing, I’m not sure sleeping in the snow is sounding all that appealing…until I see what’s inside the small frozen hut.

While the exterior is pure snow and ice, the interior is something else entirely. The lantern shows a small shelf where our eiswein has been stored and a small basin of steaming water with a bar of soap for cleaning up. It is being heated by a single tiny crimson rock.

I marvel at the detail of the engravings on the dome above us. The lantern’s subdued flames highlight a story that has been carved into the icy snow.

People gather to watch a dragon soaring through the stars. If I follow the story around to the other side of the igloo, it appears they are begging for its blessing and finally receive it at a cave in the mountains.

An infinitesimal part of me wonders if these designs are in every igloo here, or only ours. It warms my heart that whoever made this hut for us was thoughtful enough to show me the history of the festival. History I was able to be a part of tonight.

An ache in my chest forms at the thought, and I push it away.

Several furs and pillows lay at the center, forming one gigantic bed. Or, it would be if it was only for me. I swallow hard, realizing it will be the first time Einar and I have slept in the same room, let alone the same bed.

Images of our first night together come rushing back, and I’m grateful for the fading light. Red floods my cheeks as I remember standing only inches away from him, naked. I could feel the heat radiating off of him then just as it is now, and I wonder if he isn’t remembering that moment, too.

Though, I also vividly recall the rejection from that night.

Does he regret that now? Do I?

Khijha paces back and forth before settling on the spot directly in the entrance. I can’t be sure if she’s standing guard, watching the lights, or giving us privacy, but her distance leaves only the two of us on the makeshift bed that is far more comfortable that it appears.

Einar lays back with a sigh, his bulky frame taking up more than half of the space. His hands are resting under his head, and his eyes are closed, but he can still somehow sense my hesitation.

“I won’t bite. Not hard anyway,” he assures me, and the corner of his mouth tilts up.

Heat floods my entire body from what has to be embarrassment...

“I’m not altogether certain I believe you.”

“That’s fair,” he adds with a sleepy sort of laugh that makes my chest tighten. “But what if I promise?”

I bite my lip and shake my head in resignation before deciding to settle in next to him.

“Fine. But just know that I bite back,” I say as he pulls the blanket over us, his arm lingering around my frame.

“Oh, I’m counting on it.” His words are barely a whisper, his warm breath tickling my ear.

My body tenses and tingles as my head spins. I barely had any wine tonight, but I am completely intoxicated in this moment. His fingers graze the curves of my hips, his hand stilling as it cups the swell of my thigh. The anticipation of what will happen next runs wild through every inch of me.

After a moment, he chuckles and removes his arm, resting it against his stomach instead.

I stifle either a groan or a laugh, I’m not sure which. He knows full well what he is doing, and I almost call him out on it when I hear the soft rhythmic sounds of his even breaths and realize he’s fallen asleep.

What. A. Bastard.

I shake my head slightly, trying to calm my racing heart and still the embers within me that are begging to be set ablaze.

Taking several deep breaths, I put out the lantern and try my best to fall asleep.

It doesn’t take long, for a change, but I’m haunted by dreams of my sisters. Rose-colored blood pools at my feet, and I cry out, but there is no sound. I’m helpless and trapped and too far away to protect them, as a voice I know all too well repeats over and over, “You have failed me again.”

I thrash and kick, trying and failing to let out a scream when a heavy, comforting weight settles over me. A gentle shushing sounds in my ear, and the images go black. All is calm and still again.

Any peace that was found in the night, any respite from those nightmares, however, is completely gone by the morning.

I wake up shivering, despite being covered in furs. Einar is gone and Khijhana has resumed her pacing.

I stretch and am about to make my way out of the igloo to find my husband when he pushes his way in instead. Something in his stance immediately puts me on edge.

His back is ramrod straight, his expression etched with anger. He moves toward me, tension radiating off him like the air just before a thunderstorm.

Khijha is quick to move between us, her eyes wide and her haunches raised. I reach out a hand to touch his arm, and he glares at it as if it’s offensive.

“What’s the matter?” I ask, pulling back my hand.

He stares at me, searching for something in my eyes before grunting at whatever he sees there.

Suddenly, I feel like I am standing bare before him again. But instead of the feelings the memory brought on last night, I feel only the sting of rejection.

“Einar --”

“It doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head. “I have things to attend to before we head back. I’ll meet you at the sled in a few hours.” With that, he turns to leave.

Any sign of the cold I felt upon waking is gone now. I thought we made progress last night, that we might have even drawn a little closer, but these walls he’s thrown up again in the light of day remind me why I never wanted that to begin with.

Once I’m finished furiously washing my face, brushing my teeth, and smoothing my hair into a braid, I decide to head back out to the festival. Though the last thing I want to do is be in a crowd, it’s not like I have much of a choice unless I want to spend my day hiding in this tiny space and giving the people even more cause for judgment.

As soon as I emerge from the igloo, several shop owners call out to me, displaying their wares and begging for my attention.

I know Einar told me to spend all of the coin to help out the villagers, but I can’t help the inclination to save some back, just in case I may need it later.

I politely thank the vendors and keep walking, my thoughts running rampant. I hate seeing the disappointment in their faces, but I need to be smart.

It isn’t until I am walking away from the last tent that I hear a raised voice and the whimpering of a young woman.

On high alert, I glance around until my eyes settle on one of the vendors who I had refused. A young girl was trying to sell grooming gear for hestrinn, and I had brushed her off, too lost in my own thoughts to pay her much attention.

Her father, or employer, is now berating her. He raises his hand to strike her, the blow landing before I can even cry out. He’s careful, though; he thinks he’s hidden from sight behind their tent and between the rows of other vendors.

It’s too much to take.

I stalk toward them, willing myself to be calm as I approach, but under the surface lies a roaring blaze of fury.

“Pardon me?” My tone is more forceful than the words imply.

The abuser feigns innocence, pasting on a genial smile as he nods. “Is there anything I can be help you?”

The young girl behind him is doing her best to wipe the blood from her nose before turning and forcing a painful smile.

“Yes, this lovely young lady had shown me some of the grooming equipment and even a few of the saddles for a hestrinn. At first, I told her no,” I pause as if I’m mulling it all over, “but I recently acquired one of my own. I want to be sure I have everything I need for him.”

I gesture to one of the saddles and the table full of decorations for an animal I know nothing about.

“How much for all of this?”

The man’s mouth nearly falls open, but his eyes gloss over with the lust of coin. “You are want all of this?”

I nod, and he gives me an exorbitant amount that even I know isn’t worth it. But I agree anyway.

“Perhaps the young lady,” I pause, waiting for them to supply her name.

“Sarah Agnes,” she offers quietly.

“Perhaps you would visit me at the castle, Sarah? And help me with his care and grooming? I’d love to see what you could do with his mane with these.” I pick up a few of the beads and strips of fabric.

Tears brim in her eyes as she looks fearfully to the man who just beat her.

“I know that the king would consider it quite a favor if you would be so willing to help his new bride,” I add with a slow blink of my thick lashes.

“Of course.” The greasy man bows. “Anything for His Majesty.”

I crack my gloved knuckles and memorize each line of his oily face. I have no tolerance for those who use their size or position to break another person’s spirit.

“She can be come on the next day,” he adds, motioning for her to pack up the items.

Sarah blanches, and I speak up before I can help myself. I know that look. That fear.

“Actually, it would be a great favor to me if I could have her come sooner. You see, I could use someone trustworthy to oversee his transport back to the stables and his settling in. I would be willing to pay more for this, of course.”

I dump the remaining money from my purse on the table.

The man smiles, the expression all wrong on his repulsive face, before nodding and greedily counting the coins I’ve laid out for him.

An uneasy feeling forms in my stomach as I tell her which stable number she will find my hestrinn in.

I know it’s thoughtless to invite her to the castle right now. Sands know what Einar will say when I let another person intrude on his palace of secrets. I will deal with that later, though. I couldn’t just pass her by. I’ve been in her boots before, and what I wouldn’t have given to have someone pull me from that position.

The disquiet continues to grow, however, until I realize the feeling is coming from another source. Someone is watching me.

A predator.

I’ve hunted and been hunted enough to know the feeling.

The hair raises on the back of my neck as I look around, searching the crowd. Einar is nearby, but the feeling isn’t coming from him, nor does it abate when I see him.

It’s something else.

I continue to scan each person until I catch sight of the familiar face again. Dark brown eyes stare at me from his chiseled olive-toned face. His signature coal hair is tied back by his neck, and a matchstick rests between his lips.

He is right next to their tent.

Watching. Waiting.

This time, he doesn’t run away. He wants me to see him. He smiles before pulling his hood lower and slowly disappearing back into the crowds.

This time, there is no question that it is Damian.

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach, and I want to be sick.

If he’s here, not one of us is safe. Not even the king of Jokith himself.