Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Shit.
Kjeld was certain his day could not get any worse.
Not only was Caelian Starstorm going to be accompanying him back to Brackroth, but the lady in question was currently sprawled on her ass because of him.
It had been an accident, of course, but she’d run right into him and now she was on the ground, legs outstretched, with her pale purple dress crumpled around her in a heap.
Her sleeve dipped down past her shoulder, affording him a delightful glimpse of smooth flesh, but then she tugged it back into place.
Her sapphire gaze latched onto him, darkening to the likeness of obsidian.
“Forgive me, my lady.” He lowered himself to one knee in an attempt to help her collect her scattered belongings. “I did not see you there.”
“No, I suppose not,” she snapped, then huffed out a breath of annoyance. “Considering I’m invisible to the likes of you.”
Kjeld locked his jaw. Engaging in another argument with her would be futile.
She clambered onto her knees, and he watched as she grabbed a rock, a necklace fashioned of leather and bone, and a feather, stuffing them into the pockets of her skirt.
His brows pushed together in silent question.
What a peculiar collection of bits and pieces.
He never recalled her being the sort to amass items of a natural element, as from his most recent notice, she much preferred things that sparkled.
He scooped up the random letters she’d been carrying and shoved them into her arms.
Caelian’s scowl only deepened. “I rest my case.”
Her waspish lashings annoyed him. She had no reason to be angry. All her suffering, all her misgivings, were her own fault.
“You’re not invisible.” He practically snarled and Caelian froze in place. “I avoid you on purpose. To spare you from my wrath.”
Kneeling together, they were barely a breath apart.
In fact, they were sharing the same air, and it would be all too easy for him to lean in and inhale her.
To fuse the delicately floral and warm, delicious scent of her into his lungs.
She hastily tucked a few pieces of hair back behind her pointed ear, and the gemstones she wore glittered like starlight.
Caelian said nothing in return, only stared at him in silent shock.
Clutching the letters to her bosom, lashes fluttering wildly, pretty pink lips slightly parted.
He realized all too late this was quite possibly the first time he had addressed her, and her alone, since she had saved his life.
His gaze flicked from her mouth to her neck, where that impossibly itchy fabric seemed to suffocate her. If he could have his way, he’d rip it off her right now, free her from its smothering confines.
She pulled at it again, her nails scratching against the stiff collar.
“You should change,” he muttered, his fingers curling into tight fists to keep from tearing her dress to shreds.
Caelian reared back as though he’d smacked her. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your dress,” he clarified, clearing his throat. Swallowing. Hard. “It looks uncomfortable. Like it pains you.”
“I…” Her chest heaved and she ducked her head, ribbons of silver, pink, blue, and light purple hair falling around her face like a curtain. “It does. I hate it, actually.”
Her hair was glimmering like an iridescent waterfall, and it took everything in Kjeld’s power not to reach out and tuck the loose waves back so he could see her face. “I thought as much.”
Kjeld shoved to his feet, a mistake that left Caelian on her knees before him, an image he’d pictured in his mind a thousand times over.
Her eyes, wide and as dark of blue as the Havnokk Deep, gazed up at him.
He could drown in their depths, in the endless abyss of the haunting sadness that filled them.
She rolled her plump lips together, chest rising and falling, as the quickened pace of her heartbeat echoed in his ears.
He reached down, cupped her by the elbow, and carefully lifted her to her feet.
That caution was always there, in the back of his mind, imploring him to be mindful of how easily he could hurt her.
His excessive strength was still something he was struggling to control, and he was unaccustomed to the unnatural brute force of his newfound fae abilities.
And Caelian…she was so delicate now. Like the softest petal of a summer rose.
One rough hand, one careless touch, and she would bruise.
A tiny scrap slipped from the stack of letters in her arms, and he caught the torn piece of parchment before it hit the ground.
“Almost lost this,” he mumbled quietly, setting it on top of the bound letters, when the familiar name scrawled across it caught his eye. “Wenfyre?”
Instantly, Caelian’s guarded expression morphed into one of interest. She moved in closer, her skirts swishing, lightly rustling against his pants.
She was unaware of the effect her nearness held over him, how she captivated him, how just sharing the same air as her was enough to make him worship her like an ancient Northernlands goddess.
“You know it, then?” she asked, holding the torn scrap of paper out to him. “This Wenfyre?”
“Aye, my lady. I know it.” Kjeld accepted the paper, careful not to allow his fingers to graze hers. “It’s a realm south of Brackroth, home of a Druid queen, where the magic is tied to nature, and the land itself shimmers with power.”
“Oh. Oh, I see.” Caelian clutched the letters closer to her, and her gaze dropped to the polished floor. “I did not realize it was so far.”
Kjeld’s brow furrowed. Certainly she hadn’t been intending to travel there, and especially not alone. “Are you planning to visit?”
“Maybe. At the very least, I was considering it.”
Again, she tugged on the fluffy collar of her gown, and his irritation mounted. Why she continued to suffer in silence, to be uncomfortable in her own skin, was beyond him.
“Why Wenfyre?” It came out as more of a gruff demand, but if Caelian noticed the rough edge in his voice, she paid it no attention.
“Because I believe there are answers there, and I intend to find them.” She shifted her weight, angling her hip to one side.
“It must all be tied to my mother somehow. She lied to us for years, from the very beginning, claiming she was a fae when all along she was a Druid. I just want to know why. I doubt my father would have cared much, in fact, I’m certain he would have fallen in love with her either way.
But why did she feel the need to lie? What was she hiding from us? And why did she have to kill him?”
Her voice broke on the last few words, as though a rogue wave of long-forgotten emotion suddenly crashed into her. She pressed her lips into a hard line, willing away the threat of tears welling in her eyes.
Kjeld scratched the underside of his jaw. No wonder she was questioning if there was anything left of Trysta’s personal effects this morning. Apparently she’d devised some sort of plan and intended to see it through. “You’ve discussed this matter with Ariesian?”
“Not yet.” She stiffened, her spine straightening. “But I see no reason as to why he would refuse me.”
Clearly she did not know her brother as well as she thought, because Kjeld would bet hard-earned gold that Ariesian would shut down her plan before she could begin.
“And you think Wenfyre can unlock all these secrets?” he asked, folding his arms over his broad chest and widening his stance.
He did not particularly care for the idea that Caelian intended to travel to Wenfyre…
alone. Without anyone to protect her. If Ariesian even approved of her plan at all.
“That you will find the answers you seek there, in some faraway land you know nothing about?”
“I don’t see why not.” She sniffed then and lifted her chin in spite. “Besides, I know plenty now, thanks to you. Wenfyre is the home of a Druid queen. It’s south of Brackroth, the magic there is tied with nature, and the land itself shimmers with power.”
She smiled brightly but it was not genuine.
It no longer illuminated the entirety of her face.
The light of it could not reach her eyes, and they stopped sparkling like starlit night skies some time ago.
It was a smile, yes. But the kind that was practiced in a mirror so the world saw only the reflection of what she wished them to see.
Caelian shrugged and waved a careless hand through the air, dismissing his concern. “What more do I need to know?”
Brat.
Her flippancy infuriated him.
He steadied himself, closing the already intimate distance between them.
Her breath caught, and the bewildered beating of her heart thrummed through his veins, causing him to long.
To yearn. To crave. It was intoxicating.
The sound of it. Like a bewitching melody made solely for him.
Curious how his heightened fae senses seemed to thrive whenever she was near.
“There is plenty you don’t know, Caelian.” Her name was like honeyed wine on his tongue. And it was the first time he’d used her given name without the preface of her title before it.
“Like what?”
There was a biting taunt to her remark, but it was a little breathy, and the deadly combination sent a spear of carnal lust straight through him.
“To start, it’s unsafe for a lady to traverse the realms alone.
” His hand unknowingly stretched out toward her, fingers reaching to thread through the silky, pastel strands of her hair.
The ends slid between his thumb and forefinger like wisps of satin.
“You never know what sort of dangers are lurking, what kind of monsters are waiting to devour you whole.”
He watched her throat work, felt his skin heat beneath the intensity of her stare as those pools of frigid dark blue flicked to his mouth, then to his neck where his runic tattoos marked him.
Her tongue darted out, swiping along her bottom lip with haste, wetting it.
And for a brief moment, he wondered if she would taste the same way she sounded—bitter and burning, tainted with a deliciously sweet poison.
“I suppose I shall figure that out on my own.” Caelian eased back, letting a cool rush of air glide between them. “There are plenty of dangers I am willing to face. And I am not afraid of monsters.”
Kjeld clicked his tongue and straightened. “You should be.”
She suffered him an eye roll. “Your scare tactics will not work on me, General Holtstrom. I have four brothers, in case it slipped your memory.”
Nothing about Caelian Starstorm slipped his memory. Ever.
And he hated himself for it.
Hated himself because as much as he loathed her for what she did to him, he also desired her beyond all reckoning.
Anytime she waltzed into a room, it was all he could do to keep from storming out.
Anger boiled through his veins whenever he saw her, but it was constantly at war with the steady pump of longing coursing through his bloodstream.
Some days he couldn’t stand to look upon her, yet he committed every insignificant detail about her to his memory.
Like the way a pale pink loop of hair always curled near her ear, or how she rolled her lips whenever she was deep in thought.
Wanting her—hating her—was like a dance with a double-edged sword.
He was doomed to feel its pain either way.
Kjeld supposed it was because he fancied her before she saved his life. Before she wished for him to be fae. And he gathered those emotions had not been suppressed. Still, his volatile feelings toward her kept him on edge.
It was better this way.
For both of them.
“Either way.” Kjeld rolled his shoulders back, his chest expanding as he attempted to put some much-needed space between them, which was difficult to do, given his overwhelming size. “I may as well accompany you to Wenfyre since you’ll be coming to Brackroth with me.”
Caelian’s mouth fell open, and her color waned. Perhaps she was more afraid than she let on.
“I beg your pardon.” She shook her head, her ribbons of soft rainbow-hued hair tumbling around her shoulders. “Did you say Brackroth?”
“I did.”
“I’m…” She gulped then, her brows drawing together. “I am not going to Brackroth.”
“It doesn’t appear as though you have much of a choice in the matter, my lady.
It’s already been decided.” Kjeld rocked back onto his heels, enjoying her temporary distress.
Apparently, she did not much care for his company either, though her erratic heartbeat claimed otherwise.
Still, it was amusing to watch her squirm.
“By whom?” she snapped, the flush of aggravation spreading through her cheeks.
“By Lord Ariesian Starstorm. Your dearest older brother.”
She was practically fuming, Kjeld could almost see the rage steaming from her bare shoulders. Jaw set, eyes narrowed, she twisted away from him, her heels clicking noisily as she stalked down the hall. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Another time, perhaps?” Kjeld called after her, smirking as she stormed off in search of her brother. “Might I suggest you ready your things and pack light? Riding on the back of a dragon is not for the faint of heart.”
Caelian spun back, eyes alight with cold fury. “Of that, I am well aware. For it was you who took me on my first ride.”
Her fiery blue gaze raked over him, head to toe, in a look of pure hatred. “In case you forgot.”
Then she was gone in a flurry of purple silk, vanishing from his sight, leaving him standing there in the hall with his jaw slack, feeling like a total asshole.
Because he had forgotten.
Somehow, in the midst of all his inner turmoil, he’d forgotten that she was the first female he’d ever taken for a ride.
His dragon, Odryss, was a gentle giant, and Caelian had not shown an ounce of fear.
In fact, she’d settled against Kjeld so easily, so comfortably, that for a moment he thought perhaps she’d been made specifically for him.
That maybe he was worthy of the love of a lady.
But on the night he died, everything changed.
And Kjeld no longer knew what he wanted from her, but it was definitely not her love.