57. Chapter 57
T he doors burst open. Ren stumbled inside, Lucan at her side. Heat from the hearth hit her, but it did little to thaw the ice in her bones.
Every eye in the hall turned, but none struck Ren harder than Kaelin’s.
Kaelin stood near the hearth, her crystal goblet untouched in her hand. Her gaze swept once over Ren, then lingered on the fae male beside her. Talen sat across from Kaelin, a blade in his hand being shined.
Ren’s stomach tightened. She’d been through storms and wraiths, but nothing braced her for the edge in Kaelin’s eyes.
“Come, sit.” A fae healer gestured to one of the chairs by the fire as his eyes caught the color and stiffness in Lucan’s hands. “With a bit of warmth and my magic, this should be okay. I’ve seen it before. Frostbite settles fast in these parts.”
Lucan nodded and lowered himself into the chair, grimacing as he cradled his hands close to his chest. Ren wasted no time pulling a fur blanket around her own shoulders.
Her teeth chattered so hard they ached. Now that the adrenaline was ebbing, the cold seeped into her bones like water through cracks.
Not even the hearth’s blaze could root it out .
She swore, just for a heartbeat, she heard the faint tinkling of bells again in the distance.
“A snow wisp,” Talen murmured.
Ren forced her stiff fingers to lift the leather pouch, the herbs inside still miraculously safe. “Got it.” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a rasp.
“You went without any of us,” Kaelin’s voice cut across the hall, sharp as a drawn blade. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice? Or did you simply decide we were unnecessary?”
Ren’s jaw clenched. “You were still sleeping.”
A ripple of murmurs broke through the room at the audacity of Ren’s retort. Kaelin’s eyes narrowed to slits, but Ren only pulled the blanket tighter around herself and glared at the flames.
Kaelin had been sleeping. Ren could still see the image of Kaelin sprawled among the cushions, hair unbound, the sharp edges of her face softened in slumber.
For once, Kaelin hadn’t been frowning or plotting.
Just… peaceful . Ren had hovered in the doorway, one hand tightening on the frame, debating whether to wake her.
But the thought of disturbing that fragile calm had made her chest twist.
She’d turned away instead.
Kaelin crossed the floor and crouched before Ren. “Do you think I enjoyed waking to find you gone, without any word or a note?” Her voice dropped, low and seething. “I don’t appreciate being kept in the dark.”
Ren lifted her chin, glare matching Kaelin’s fire for fire. “I’m not yours to keep.”
Gasps pricked the edges of the room. The silence afterward was taut as a bowstring, broken only by the hiss of the logs in the hearth. Kaelin’s jaw ticked, her hands flexing against her thighs like she needed release.
From behind them, Talen cleared his throat. “Perhaps this is better discussed in… more private quarters?”
Kaelin’s jaw worked once, twice. Then, without a word, she surged forward. Ren barely had time to gasp before Kaelin seized her around the waist and, with shocking ease, hoisted her over one shoulder like she weighed nothing at all.
“Hey!” Ren yelped, blanket tumbling from her grip as she kicked hard, fists pounding against Kaelin’s back.
“Put me down, you insufferable – ” Her boots thudded against Kaelin’s hip, but Kaelin only adjusted her hold, spine straight and unyielding, stride unbroken.
She turned toward the hallway to her bedchamber with the authority only she could possess.
Gasps and murmurs swelled from those watching. Some half-rose from their seats, uncertain whether to step forward.
Kaelin’s head snapped toward them, her teeth flashing sharp in the firelight. “ Try ,” she said, her voice a razor’s edge. “And you’ll find out exactly how merciless I can be.”
The room froze. No one moved.
Ren seethed, wriggling furiously against the iron grip that pinned her. “You pain in the ass, put me down right now or so help me – ”
Kaelin’s only reply was the faintest growl rumbling in her throat as she swept Ren out of the room, the doors thundering shut behind them when they entered her bedchamber.
Nothing relieved Kaelin more than the sound of those footsteps beyond the front door of the keep.
For a fleeting heartbeat, relief bloomed; Ren had returned safe .
But with that relief came a swift tide of anger.
Last night, they had fallen asleep wrapped in one another’s warmth.
Kaelin woke up more than once in the night, half-afraid it was only a dream spun to mock her.
Each time she stirred, she found Ren’s peaceful face pressed into the pillow, lashes resting against her cheek, lips parted with the rhythm of deep sleep.
It ached to see her like that. Kaelin had kissed her forehead, her cheek, even brushed her lips more than once, greedy with the tender luxury of it.
For the first time in years, Kaelin had felt utterly content.
But come morning, Kaelin woke to an empty bed.
The sheets were tossed aside, the fire burned low, and the ache in her chest turned jagged. She rifled through drawers, the writing desk, even the sill – anywhere a note might have been tucked, providing some explanation. Anything.
But there was nothing .
Kaelin threw a robe across her shoulders and swept into the main hall. Talen sat near the hearth, sipping tea while polishing one of his blades. He looked up at her approach, his expression maddeningly placid. “Good morning. Sounds like you two had an enjoyable night.”
Kaelin’s glare could have split stone. “Where is she?”
“Who? Oh, Ren? She went to the vale for the herbs. Whatever Zakhar called them.” He tipped the teapot toward her as though offering peace. “Want a cup of tea?”
Kaelin’s lips curled around a curse. She strode across the hall in a sweep of silk and fury, her gaze locked on the front doors that led out into the snow.
“Lucan is not familiar with this part of the realm. They’re going in blind.”
“It’s just a hike. Shouldn’t take them more than an hour. And they’ll probably see some amazing sights.”
That earned him her full attention. Kaelin whirled, her eyes blazing. Talen’s casual smile faltered, the teacup stilling halfway to his lips.
“There are snow wisps in that vale, and none of us warned them.”
The silence pressed hard between them, broken only by the pop of the hearth.
Talen cleared his throat, setting down the teacup with deliberate care. “Right,” he muttered. “So… I take it this is one of those times where ‘amazing sights’ isn’t the right thing to say.”
Kaelin’s fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms. Every nerve screamed at her to bolt for the stables, to tear through the snow until she reached them.
Pacing the length of the firelit hall like a caged predator, robe sweeping behind her in angry arcs, she stared at the doors until her vision blurred.
With each hour that dragged by, her thoughts turned darker.
Ren stumbling in the drifts. Lucan’s strength giving out.
The pale shadow of a wisp following them.
Hunting them.
Her jaw ached from grinding her teeth.
She tried to sit, to steady her hands by pouring tea as Talen suggested.
The cup rattled in its saucer, hot liquid sloshing onto her fingers.
She didn’t even feel the burn. Her mind kept circling back to that empty bed.
The memory of Ren’s peaceful face, lashes still, lips parted, had been the softest thing Kaelin had ever known, and she had left it. Left her .
Without even a note.
Kaelin’s stomach knotted. Anger masked fear, but it didn’t smother it. The truth gnawed at her ribs. She wasn’t angry because Ren had gone without her. She was angry because she might never come back.
“Stop pacing,” Talen set aside his blade with an annoyed huff.
“You’re making me nervous.” Kaelin turned her burning glare on him, and he immediately threw up his hands.
“Never mind. Pace away. Saints save us all when she walks through that door. She’s tougher than most soldiers I know.
I’m not worried about her. But then again, I don’t feel about her the way you do. ”
Talen’s mouth curved in a small, knowing grin, mischief barely leashed behind it.
“I’m not against it, so long as she treats you well and you’re happy.
” He lifted his sword by the hilt, idly dragging a fingertip along the flat.
“But, should I give her the protective-older-brother speech where I warn her that if she hurts you, I’ll kick her ass? ”
Kaelin snorted, one corner of her mouth twitching. “You? She’s the one who very well may kick your ass.”
Talen pretended to be wounded, then laughed. “Already tried that once. Beat her fair and square – she still has a lot to learn.” His voice softened on the last word, the teasing falling away enough that care showed through.
For the first time that day, the tension in Kaelin’s chest loosened. Talen had a knack for catching the frayed edges of fear and weaving them into something steadier, something that made everything seem a little less impossible.
And so, hours later, when Ren did walk through the door, Kaelin’s fury boiled over.
Ren kicked and cursed the whole way to Kaelin’s chambers, fists pounding at her back. “Put me down, damn you! I don’t need a keeper. Who do you think you are ?”
Kaelin ignored every word.
Kaelin tossed Ren onto the bed with more force than was necessary.
Ren bounced against the mattress with a furious growl, eyes blazing even as her teeth chattered.
Kaelin stoked the fire until it roared, the flames catching quick, orange light painting the walls.
She stripped off her own clothes without ceremony, movements clipped and efficient.
Like a soldier preparing for battle.
All the while, Ren spat venom. “I don’t need you hovering over me. I’m fine. You hear me? I’m fine .” But her lips were pale blue, her hands trembling as she pulled the furs around herself. The lie was written all over her.
Kaelin crossed the room and slid into bed beside Ren. She gathered Ren close to her chest, pressing her icy body to her own warmth. Ren thrashed in protest, fists pressing against Kaelin’s shoulders, muttering curses hot against her collarbone.
Kaelin didn’t let go.
She tugged at the laces of Ren’s soaked tunic and peeled the sodden cloth away. Ren gasped aloud, but Kaelin was relentless, stripping her layer by layer until the furs wrapped around bare skin and their bodies shared the same heat.
“Kaelin, what the hell do you think – ” Ren’s protest cut short when Kaelin’s hand slipped between Ren’s thighs, bringing her legs apart so Kaelin settled between them.
Her other arm wound firm around Ren’s waist, the other splaying against the small of Ren’s back to hold her steady.
Ren’s curses faltered, lost in the tremor of her teeth and the way her body instinctively sought warmth despite her fury.
Kaelin exhaled into Ren’s hair, a low murmur slipping free before she could stop it. “You’ll hate me for this tomorrow. But tonight, you’ll live.”
Ren’s body stayed rigid, her fists still curled against Kaelin’s shoulders. “I don’t need your help.” Her voice broke on a shiver, the last word lost to the rattle of her teeth.
Kaelin only pulled Ren closer, pressing her icy skin to the furnace of her own body. Her hand found Ren’s damp hair, fingers slipping gently through tangled strands, stroking slow and steady. The rhythm was grounding, as if Kaelin was telling her through touch alone: you’re here, you’re safe.
Ren muttered something unintelligible, too weary to shape the words into venom. Her fists slackened, then fell away. Her breathing stuttered, caught, and then began to match Kaelin’s, each inhale and exhale syncing as though her body had finally surrendered where her pride could not .
Kaelin tilted her chin down, brushing her lips against the crown of Ren’s head, light enough it could almost be mistaken for an accident. She lingered there, inhaling the faintest trace of worn leather and spice clinging to Ren’s hair.
Ren’s eyes fluttered shut. The fight drained from her like snow melting in spring, leaving only the raw ache of exhaustion.
With a sigh, she shifted just enough to burrow closer, her forehead brushing Kaelin’s collarbone.
Kaelin’s chest tightened. Her fingers continued their slow sweep through Ren’s hair, over and over, until the stiffness bled out of her frame.
For the first time all day, Kaelin allowed herself to breathe.