Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Nikolai
Choose what makes you happy. We will support whatever decision you make.
Viktor’s words echo in my mind as I pace my study, the fire crackling low.
And Maxim’s comment about my female: Consent matters. Tell her everything. Let her choose.
They’re both right. I’ve been cruel and evasive towards Claire, criticizing her, insulting her species. I snarled at her to leave when all I wanted was to pull her close and sink my teeth in her silky skin.
Claire deserves the truth. All of it. The Blood Calling, the claiming and the consequences. And then she can decide whether she wants me, or if she’d rather flee from this impossible situation.
I’m going to pull an Aldric and try to have my cake and eat it too.
Aldric’s situation happened centuries ago and the world, and relations between humans and Krovenians, has changed much.
I suspect the idea of half human, half Krovenians won’t be as unsettling to the populace as it was in the past. And I don’t mind if my offspring lose their titles or an opportunity to rule.
They can live full lives without any of the trappings of royalty.
I must find Claire so we can talk this out and make decisions.
Will she have me? Will Claire be willing to give up her human life for a permanent life amongst Krovenians?
I check the servants’ hall first, but she’s not there. In fact, the corridors are empty. The storm has driven everyone to shelter, and the castle feels hollow without the usual bustle of activity.
I head to my chambers. Perhaps she returned to finish her cleaning duties? The moment I step through the door, I know something is wrong. Her scent is concentrated near the bed, as if she stood there for several minutes.
Then I see it. A folded piece of paper on my pillow.
My stomach drops as I cross the room and snatch it up. The paper is simple, torn from one of the notepads the staff uses and the handwriting is hurried, slightly uneven.
Your Majesty,
I enjoyed our time together, but I must return to the human world. Please don’t worry about me. This is for the best.
Love, Claire
I read it twice. Three times.
Love?
She signed it love and then left?
I crumple the note in my fist. The storm howls outside, snow driving against the windows so hard the glass rattles. The mountain roads will be impassable by now, buried in snow.
If she’s out there, she’ll die. This type of weather is treacherous for my species and could kill a delicate human.
I’m running before I finish the thought.
The servants’ exit is at the back of the castle, a small door that opens onto the rear courtyard. From there, a path leads down the mountain to the main road, the same road that’s now buried under three feet of snow, with visibility near zero.
She wouldn’t be that foolish.
I wrench open the door and the wind nearly knocks me backward. Snow swirls violently, and through the chaos, I catch it, faint, almost lost in the storm, but unmistakable.
Her scent.
The Blood Calling roars to life inside me, louder than it’s ever been. My mate is in danger. She’s alone, in a killing blizzard.
I plunge into the storm.
The cold doesn’t bother me. Krovenians run hot, our bodies designed for the harsh mountain winters that would kill a human in minutes. I run faster than I’ve ever before, my legs pumping as I follow the thread of her scent through the howling wind.
Why would she leave? What did “for the best” mean?
And why would she sign it with love and then walk into a death trap?
I find Claire a quarter mile from the castle, huddled against a stone wall that marks the edge of the road. She must have been trying to shelter from the wind, but it’s nowhere near enough.
My female shakes violently, her arms wrapped around herself, her lips blue, ice crystals glittering in her golden hair.
She wears a coat, mittens and snow boots but it’s not enough, this type of frigid snowstorm could kill a human instantly.
Her bag lies abandoned in the snow beside her, already half-buried.
“Claire!”
Her eyes flutter open. “No,” she whispers through chattering teeth. “You shouldn’t... go back...”
“Are you insane?” I’m already stripping off my coat, wrapping it around her trembling body. My warmth will help more than the extra fabric. “You could have died out here!”
“I was trying to get… bu…bus stop.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. “There is no bus service during a blizzard.” I scoop her into my arms. She’s small and so terrifyingly fragile. “Hold on to me.”
Her frozen fingers grip my shirt as I turn back toward the castle, her face pressing into my neck. Her breath is shallow and cold against my skin.
The terror of finding her body frozen in the snow makes my arms tighten around her until she lets out a small sound of protest. I force myself to ease my grip. Slightly. “Stay awake,” I command, moving as fast as I can back through the storm to the castle. “Claire. Stay with me.”
“I’m trying...”
“Don’t you dare close your eyes. Do you hear me? Keep talking.”
“‘bout what?”
“Anything. Tell me why you did this. Tell me what you were thinking, walking into a blizzard.”
She doesn’t answer. Her shivering is getting worse, her body trying desperately to generate heat it doesn’t have.
“Claire.”
“Trying... to save you...”
I don’t understand. But I file it away for later, when she’s warm and safe and I can demand a proper explanation.
I enter through the front doors of the silent castle and carry her upstairs to my chambers.
Then I carefully set her on the thick rug in front of my fireplace, which is still burning from earlier.
The flames cast warm light across her pale face and blue-tinged lips.
I grab every blanket available and wrap them around her, tucking them tight.
She’s still shaking.
“You need to get out of those wet clothes,” I tell her.
Her eyes widen, some alertness returning.
“I’ll turn around,” I add quickly. “But you need to get warm or you’ll get hypothermia. Do you understand?”
She nods weakly.
I turn my back, staring at the wall, listening to the rustle of fabric as she peels off her coat, mittens, boots and soaked uniform. The sounds are torturous, the wet slap of cloth hitting the floor, the chattering of her teeth, her quick shallow breaths.
I go to my own closet and remove my own wet boots and replace any of my wet clothes for something dry. Then I grab one of my own button-down shirts from the closet. The white shirt is soft and will hang past her knees. I return and hold it behind me without looking. “Put this on.”
Cold fingers brush mine as she takes it. More rustling.
“Okay,” she says finally. “You can turn around.”
I do.
She’s swimming in my shirt, the sleeves hanging past her hands, the hem brushing her thighs. The blankets are wrapped around her shoulders like a cloak. Her wet hair is plastered to her pale face, and she looks small, vulnerable and alive.
I force myself to focus on practical matters.
“How do you feel?” I crouch in front of her, taking her hands in mine to check her fingers for frostbite.
They’re red and cold but not waxy or damaged.
I check her toes too and they’re the same.
She’ll be okay. She’s warming up and a bit of color is slowly returning to her cheeks.
Claire sits and pulls the blankets back around her, in front of the fire. “Still freezing, but better. Thank you. Thank you for saving me.”
The relief is staggering.
And then comes the anger.
I pull the crumpled note from my pocket. “Explain this.”
My female stares at the paper in my hand and bites at her lip. “You, um, weren’t supposed to find it until I was gone.”
“Well, I found it. And then I found you half-frozen on the road.” I smooth out the wrinkled paper, reading her words again. “‘I enjoyed our time together’? ‘This is for the best’?” I look at her. “What does that mean, Claire?”
She won’t meet my eyes. Her fingers twist in the blankets.
“Claire.”
“I heard you.” Her voice is small, barely above a whisper. “The meeting with your brothers. There’s a servants’ entrance behind a tapestry with a peephole. I heard everything.”
My blood runs cold. “Everything.”
She nods miserably. “The Blood Calling. What it means. Princess Serina. King Aldric. The civil war. All of it.”
She knows everything and for some reason this isn’t disturbing. Instead, it makes everything easier. “And you decided to flee into a deadly storm?”
Now she looks up at me. “I was trying to save you.”
I sit down on the rug next to her. “Save me from what?”
“From me.” The tears spill over, tracking down her cheeks. “If I stay, you could lose everything. Your throne and kingdom. Thousands of Krovenians could die, just like before. I heard what happened with King Aldric. I heard what the Council will do if you choose a human.”
She called me Nikolai. Not ‘Your Majesty.’ Just my name, in her soft voice, like we’re equals.
“So I was leaving,” she continues, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “If I’m not here, you can marry Serina, take the elixir, continue your life and do your duty. No one has to die because of me.”
I stare at her. She was leaving, walking into a blizzard, to possibly freeze to death on a mountainside, to protect me.
“You foolish, impossible woman.”
“I’m not foolish, I’m being practical—”
“You almost died out there.”
“Your people need you—”
“I need you.”
Silence. Just the crackle of the fire and her ragged breathing.
I hold up the crumpled note.
“You signed this with love.” My voice is hoarse. “You wrote ‘love, Claire’ and then walked into a blizzard.”
She flushes, the color spreading across her cheeks. “I... did I?”
“You did.”
“Oh.” She bites her lip. “I didn’t realize I... that was unconscious.”
“Was it true?”