Of Thorns and Beauty by Elle Madison

Chapter Forty-One

Screams echo off the cave walls, and it takes me a moment to register that they are mine. I force my eyelids to open, then try to take a breath so I can calm down. The king is looking down at me with concern from where he has me cradled against him, carrying me, both of us still undressed.

As soon as I am quiet, I am able to hear the other sounds around me, Khijhana’s low growl and the king's murmured words of comfort.

I don't put the pieces together until I realized that my feet are wet.

Why are my feet wet?

Frantically, I look down only to realize that the king is standing hip-deep in a shimmering pool of water.

No, no, no.

I open my mouth to scream again, but I'm startled into silence by Khijhana's snarl and Einar's hiss of pain.

"Zaina, I need you to calm down before your chalyx gives me more than a warning bite," he says softly, fixing me with his pale blue gaze.

"No," is all I get out through my trembling lips.

What I want to say is, No, I will not calm down. No, I will not go in this water. Or any water, ever again. A pained expression flits across his face.

"You are warmer than you were before, but you are still shivering. It is not enough, and we have no way home without going back out into the cold. This water is warm."

Steam rises from the glowing pool, so I'm sure he is telling the truth about that, but my answer doesn't change.

"Please," he says again. “These are supposed to be healing waters, and you need to heal.”

"No." I shake my head rapidly. "Out," I order him.

His face is resigned, but he turns and sits me on the cave floor.

"Khijha," I call, and she comes exactly where I want her, between myself and the king, her large furry body covering mine from his view. I don't need to feel more vulnerable than I already do.

I burrow my face into her side, taking deep, ragged breaths, fighting against the shivers that threaten to consume me.

"Zaina." Einar says my name softly, once, then twice, before I finally lift my face to meet his eyes.

There is worry there, and fear as well. Emotions I had wondered if he was capable of, let alone would bother with for my sake.

"What?" I breathe out.

"I know you don't want to go back into the water, but please don't make me watch you die." For the first time, his mask slips completely away, and instead of seeing tiny fragments of the emotions he tries to hide, I am hit by the full force of his anguish.

And I want to tell him yes, but I can't.

"I can't," I say that last part out loud. "I feel better now," I tell him, and it's not quite a lie.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a prolonged blink, then leans in closer to me. Khijhana lets him. She stiffens and settles protectively on my lap, her body covering my torso. Even standing in the waist-high water, he looms over my seated form.

"You can't go back out there like this." He shakes his head. "I know you don't trust me. Truthfully, Zaina, I get the feeling that you don't trust anyone entirely, and also that you probably have good reasons for that."

His stare burns straight through me, and I feel naked in more ways than one.

"But I need you to believe that I would never let anything happen to you. I need you to know that I meant what I said on our wedding day when I promised to protect you. Don't make me go back on my word."

He holds my gaze steadily, waiting for me to respond, but I have no words. It doesn't seem to bother him, though. If anything, I wonder what my face reflects, because his eyes widen a fraction in what looks a lot like hope.

"Do you believe me?" he asks me in a strong voice.

I find myself nodding, a single, traitorous dip of my chin.

Slowly, he holds out a hand.

"Then, please."

I gently tap Khijhana to move, and she is off of me in one quick, graceful movement. I am bare before the king, but my nudity feels like the least of it. I slide closer to him, one tiny millimeter at a time until my feet are hovering just above the water.

He moves slowly, broadcasting each motion as he places a massive hand on either side of my waist. I let him pull me toward him, never breaking his gaze.

I don't look down.

I don't trust myself to stay calm once my toe hits the water. All I see are the shards of ice in his eyes, how they remind me of the icicles hanging from the roof of the castle and the branches in the forest around us, a combination of beauty and danger that resonates down to my core.

I am knee-deep in the water now, and he is right. Already, it is the warmest I have been since my fall. Then, he lifts me with no effort at all, pulling me in until I am inches from him and the water reaches my waist.

I make the mistake of glancing at the surface, and that's when the panic hits. I scramble back toward the ledge, sure the water is already back in my lungs.

I can't breathe.

My lungs are burning, and my chest is tight.

I can't breathe.

Distantly, I hear Khijhana let out a warning growl. The king's hands disappear from my waist, and, for a moment, I am furious, panicked, betrayed.

Didn't he say he wouldn't let anything happen to me?

Why is he letting me go?

Then, his arm comes around me, and he pulls me until I am flush against him, using his other hand to steer my face gently until it is turned toward his again.

"You're safe. I've got you."

My cheeks burn with shame, and I hate him for seeing me this way. More than that, I hate him, because he has made it impossible to hate him, and in doing so, has complicated my life in a way he will never understand.

He takes one of my arms and pulls it until my hand is around his neck, then does the same with the other. It should be awkward, the two of us standing naked in this pool and staring at one another while I have a series of panic attacks, but I can't seem to care.

My chest is pressed solidly against his, and I focus on matching his steady breaths and the even rhythm of his heartbeat. My body finally begins to thaw. Even the pain in my throat lessens.

It takes minutes or hours of him holding me, breathing with me, before the last vestiges of ice leave my veins. As the panic finally subsides, a different sort of thought comes creeping in, the kind that makes my heart want to race for entirely different reasons.

He has been more of a gentleman than I would have thought possible, but my own intentions don't feel nearly so pure with his rock-hard body flush with mine, our faces so close that our breaths are merging into a single puff of air.

I know I should get out of this pool, should remove myself from him rather than break the propriety he has worked so hard for.

But good decisions were never my strong suit.

My lips part, and I let him see the wanting in my eyes. His mouth drops open in surprise, his pupils widening, and just as I am debating whether or not to close that distance, he makes the decision for me.

He moves with an agonizing slowness until his lips press against mine, more gently than I would have expected from him before today. But there is nothing tenuous or cautious about it.

He is taking his time, like he is determined not to miss a single sensation as he explores my mouth with his. He lifts me up until I am seated on the edge of the smooth cave floor, and it seems impossible that I have all but forgotten we were in the water, but there is no space in my mind for anything but Einar.

He tastes the way sunshine feels against my bare skin. He’s sweet like spiced honey or warm mead on a winter’s day. I could drink him down forever and never tire of the way his mouth feels against mine.

With my knees on either side of him, our faces are level for a change. I take his bottom lip in between my teeth, and his grip on my waist tightens. Awareness courses through every inch of my body, and there is no part of me that is even the slightest bit chilled anymore.

His lips skate from mine down the side of my neck and lower, his fingers roaming my body, leaving a trail of liquid fire in their wake. I tug on his biceps, and that's the only invitation he needs to come up out of the water.

He lays me back gently, his body over mine, and I am shocked by the force of my desire when I have spent my entire life avoiding situations like these.

"Are you sure?" he whispers against my lips, his blonde hair spilling down around his damnably handsome face.

"Yes." The word comes out as much of a plea as an affirmation, but I can't summon the energy to care, because there's nothing I want more in the world than to lose myself to him and this moment right now.

But as with everything else I have wanted in this world, it is not to be.