The Hunter
The damn princess had distracted me. I was accustomed to traveling alone. If I were by myself, I never would have missed the signs of a blizzard.
It didn’t help that the giant stag was slowing us down so much. On foot, I might have been able to make it back to the pixie caves before the blizzard hit. But with Eira and Mauro? Not a chance.
“Did you spot any caves nearby?” I asked Frisk, digging through my pack until I found my scarf. I wrapped it around my neck, ensuring it covered my face as much as possible.
“There’s a small cavity about half a mile south,” Frisk said. “It’s not very wide, though, and it won’t fit all of us.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Mauro said. “My fur will protect me.”
I cut a glance at the princess, who was shivering, her arms wrapped around herself. Her cloak wasn’t doing very much to ward off the chilly wind.
She would die of frostbite before morning. Damn feeble humans.
I nodded at Frisk. “Show us the way.”
The fox turned and hurried down the slope, his bushy white tail bobbing behind him. I trailed after him, but Eira hesitated, her brows drawn in concern as she looked at Mauro.
“Go,” he snapped. “I’ll find my own shelter for the night and rendezvous with you after the storm.”
“Mauro—” she said uncertainly.
I tugged on Eira’s arm. “We have to go.”
She jerked out of my grasp, shooting me a glare. “Don’t touch me.” With a huff, she strode past me, following after Frisk.
I bit back a curse, then gave Mauro one last parting glance. “Be safe.”
He only grunted in response.
As much as I disliked my situation, I had no qualms with the stag. I didn’t want him getting hurt.
I jogged to catch up with the Snow Princess.
The white dragon was now perched on her shoulder, wings outstretched and trembling as if she might take off at any moment.
Frisk’s steps were quick and swift, and Eira kept cursing under her breath as she nearly slipped and fell at each turn.
I kept grabbing her by the elbow to catch her before she fell on her ass.
After the third time, she seethed, “I said don’t touch me.”
I released her arm, my brows raised at the note of hostility in her voice. “Fine.”
A moment later, she slid. A yelp escaped her as her ass met the cold, hard ground. Just as I suspected.
I couldn’t help but laugh. I offered a hand to help her up, but she smacked it away.
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” she said as she clambered to her feet. “Stupid, smug assassin.”
“Why are you so grouchy, anyway?” I asked, shoving my hands deeper into my coat pockets. “Aren’t you often annoyingly chipper?”
Her nostrils flared as she continued after Frisk, who lingered to allow us to catch up. “I don’t like leaving Mauro behind,” she muttered. “Besides, we might have outrun the storm if I—” Her mouth abruptly shut, and her face flushed.
“If you what?” I prompted.
Her eyes flashed, and she shot me a murderous look.
“If you… were faster?” I offered. “Taller? Less talkative? More nimble?”
She shoved my arm. “If I hadn’t drunk the Winterwing Brew, asshole.”
“Ah.” I pressed my lips together, trying not to laugh at her again.
Now that our roles were reversed, I could suddenly understand why my anger brought her so much pleasure.
This was downright delightful. “Yes, I suppose flirting with me would seem like a poor use of your time when we have a storm to avoid.”
This time, she struck me with a punch to the shoulder, but I barely felt it.
“It was quite entertaining, though,” I went on, unable to hide my grin. “I wouldn’t call it a waste of time on my end. I had never seen you throw yourself at someone like that.”
She made a retching sound. “I would never. Not with the likes of you.” Her lip curled as she gave me a look of utter disgust.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, princess.”
She turned to face me, eyes blazing. Before she could yell at me, Frisk announced, “It’s right here.”
I stopped short, my heart sinking. The cavity Frisk had led us to was indeed small. If anything, it was more of a small pocket of space underneath a particularly large boulder.
I worked my jaw in frustration as I considered our options. After a moment, I nodded to myself. “Let’s get to work.”
Eira glanced at me, then Frisk. “Who are you talking to?”
“Everyone.” I unsheathed a knife from my belt and started hacking away at the ice near the boulder.
“We need to build a barrier for the wind, and this pocket isn’t big enough.
Help me create a ridge surrounding this area, but don’t dig too much underneath the boulder. We don’t want to risk loosening it.”
Frisk bounded forward, using his tiny paws to fling away chunks of ice and snow.
Eira hesitated for a brief second before joining in, digging with her fingers.
I showed them both how to pack the ice and ensure it provided a sturdy wall.
When the cavity was wide enough for both me and Eira to crowd into, I scanned the skies.
The wind had picked up, billowing around us. The sky was now a dark gray.
We were almost out of time.
A few leafless trees stood nearby. I reached up and grabbed two branches, then used twine from my pack to tie them together as a makeshift roof for our shelter.
“Will that hold?” Eira asked uncertainly, wiping sweat from her brow.
I shot a concerned look at her. “Take off your cloak.”
Her mouth fell open. “Excuse me?”
“If you sweat in your cloak, you’ll regret it when that blizzard hits. Trust me.”
She huffed in exasperation but flung off her cloak.
I assessed our surroundings, chewing on the inside of my cheek.
“All right. This will have to do. The shelter isn’t big enough for a fire, unfortunately.
” I looked at Frisk, who was padding around the small crevice as if testing its boundaries.
Kendra was nestled in Eira’s cloak on the snowy ground.
“Will you two be all right during the storm?” I asked the animals.
“I’ll be fine,” Frisk said, lifting his head. “My fur is more than enough. I’ve weathered plenty of storms.”
I nodded, then looked at Kendra. She huddled more tightly in Eira’s cloak. “I don’t feel the cold,” she said in a small voice. “I’m a Crystal Icebolt.”
I frowned. This didn’t explain anything, as I was unfamiliar with dragon species. But, assuming she knew her own kind best, I nodded at this, too. “Good. You two stay close, but protect yourselves as best you can.”
“Are we... not staying together?” Kendra’s voice turned squeaky with apprehension.
“You’re cold-blooded,” I said. “If you curl up with Eira and me, you’ll risk making us colder. And unfortunately, there’s not a lot of room here.” I gestured to the cavity.
“Surely, Kendra can stay,” Eira argued. “She’s quite small.”
“No, it’s fine.” Kendra rose from Eira’s cloak and spread her wings. “He’s right. I don’t want to make things more difficult for you. I’ll stay with Frisk.”
“I can keep her safe, Snow,” Frisk promised. “I noticed a burrow nearby we can wriggle into if the storm gets too nasty.”
Eira bit her lip, looking unconvinced.
“They are winter creatures,” I told her. “Their bodies are built for survival.”
She looked at me, eyes wide and full of fear. I expected her to glare or shoot a barbed insult my way. But right now, she was revealing her vulnerability.
She cared about these animals. Deeply.
The assassin in me should have perked up at this, immediately thinking of how I could use the fae creatures as leverage against her. How I should have tried that from the beginning.
But the cold heart within me throbbed with the realization that I didn’t want to harm these creatures. They were innocent and clever.
And they weren’t my target.
My hands were stained with the blood of so many. I didn’t want to add any more lives than were necessary.
I drew closer to her, trying to convey the truth in my eyes. “I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true, Eira. They will be all right.”
She drew in a shaky breath, then nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. Stay close, you two.”
Kendra nodded, and Frisk chittered in response. In a flash, the two white creatures vanished in the snow.
Eira’s breath hitched, and she quickly dashed a tear away from her cheek. Around us, the wind began to howl. Snow and ice stung my face.
“You’ll need to undress,” I told her curtly, already shedding my fur coat.
She went rigid. “What?”
“If we’re going to survive this, you and I are going to have to be completely naked in that crevice.
” I jabbed a finger at the hole we’d created.
“We’re going to use our clothes as blankets to protect ourselves from the storm, and we’re going to use our collective body heat to stay alive.
This isn’t a game. This isn’t a night of passion. This is survival. Understand?”
Her lips grew thin, and her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of scarlet. Her eyes burned with indignation, and for a moment, I thought she would argue with me. I was fully prepared to shout at her until she complied, because we didn’t have time for this.
But, to my surprise, she nodded stiffly and started taking off her clothes. I paid her no attention, focusing instead on undressing as quickly as possible. Each layer I removed left me colder than before, my body shivering and my bones rattling from the cold.
Just a few more moments, I told myself. Just a few moments of discomfort, and it will be over.
When I was fully naked, I hastily gathered up my clothing. I draped my fur coat on the snowy ground of the crevice, then lay on top of it.
I could hear Eira’s teeth chattering. Her breath was labored with her movements. She was stepping out of her trousers, her pale skin slightly pink from the cold. I tore my gaze away from her naked form as she approached, her bundle of clothes tucked against her chest.
“As close as you can,” I said without looking at her. When she made a noise of frustration, I said, “Survival, remember? The closer we are, the more heat our bodies will share.”