Chapter 9
ISABEL
To my surprise, Gideon doesn’t confiscate the knives I stole.
Instead, he loops my undisturbed rucksack over his shoulder next to his own pack, then sweeps me into his arms. His peppermint breath wafts over me, as well as the aroma of pine that emanates from him.
He’s physically cold, but the chill doesn’t bother me.
It’s as though every time my natural body heat meets his natural chill, we both greedily absorb what the other is giving, finding unexpected comfort in the exchange. It’s as if we balance one another in some strange way, a way I don’t want to examine too closely.
As he carries me outside the cave, the light breakfast he offered me of dried berries and flatbread rumbles faintly in my stomach. The thought of flying through the sky at the same hasty speed as the night prior sends a burst of nausea up my throat.
“I will fly slowly,” he says in a reassuring tone.
“How did you know what I was thinking?” I ask, praying he can’t suddenly read my thoughts. Considering my plans to run away from him, that would be rather inconvenient.
“You just grew pale as you glanced over the ledge of the cave.”
“Oh.” Relief rushes through me, and most of my queasiness dissipates. My secrets are still mine to keep, though I can’t help but wonder how long that will be the case.
To my utter shock, he lifts me higher and leans down to place a soft, lingering kiss on my forehead. His lips are as cold and enticing as I imagined, and waves of heat surge to my center. It’s all I can do to keep from gasping.
After he straightens, I stare up at him wordlessly, still stunned by the action.
It was a kiss that felt far too sweet for my liking.
His eyes gleam with warmth, and a smile tugs at his lips.
Not a smirk, but a real smile. It makes my heart flutter.
It also causes the heat gathering in my core to pulse faster.
A knowing look enters his eyes, then his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath.
“Gods, you smell delicious, Isabel. It pleases me that you are aching for me to claim you.” He places his lips directly at my ear.
“You’re getting wet for me, aren’t you? Ah, little moth, your readiness to be claimed pleases me more than you could ever know. ”
A shuddering gasp leaves me, and I thrash in his arms, though not very vigorously. I’m not really trying to escape his hold. I just want him to understand that I don’t appreciate him making comments about my… readiness to be claimed.
It’s not as though I can prevent the heated pangs between my thighs. I tell myself it’s the blasted mating bond, the one I have no intention of consummating with Gideon, and nothing more. Yet the clash of his winter coldness against my body heat continues to feel far too pleasing.
I suddenly think of the bookstore next to the inn back in Hollins. Would I be able to find a book about fae culture, specifically fae mating bonds, somewhere in that large bookstore? Do all fae mating bonds manifest in exactly the same way?
I want to ask Gideon what to expect as we spend more time together. I also want to ask him what might change if we consummate our bond. Not that I’m actually considering it…
He turns toward the interior of the cave, draws in a deep breath, then exhales slowly as he points his mouth in the direction of each flaming torch.
I watch, stunned, as a sparkling blue light leaves his mouth, swirling through the air to extinguish the torches one by one.
He saves the fire for last. And just like that, everything has gone dark, aside from the faint orange glow on the horizon and the glimmer of ussha in the forest below.
But it’s nearly pitch-black at the cave’s entrance, and I find myself leaning closer to Gideon for safety.
I place my cheek against his chest and fold my arms into my center, burrowing deeper into his embrace.
There’s a bright flash of light, and I realize he’s just summoned his massive black wings.
He tightens his hold on me and launches into the sky, though he keeps his promise and flies at a moderate pace.
Thankfully, my queasiness doesn’t return, though I’m not quite brave enough to peer down at the forest below.
He lands in a clearing just outside Hollins, then immediately vanishes his wings.
I glance around the forest, admiring the beauty of the glowing and glimmering vegetation.
As terrifying as the spread of ussha is, I can’t deny that it’s a magnificent sight, though I sincerely hope I don’t encounter another fae beast like a direwolf again. I fight back a shiver at the thought.
Gideon gently sets me on my feet. Then he closes his eyes and a look of immense concentration comes over him.
He lifts one hand and briefly passes it over his face.
I stare at him, half-expecting him to look different, but I don’t see any change.
Before I can ask what he’s doing, he grasps my hand and leads me into the town.
“Do you know where the inn is?” he asks.
“Yes, I think it’s straight ahead.”
“Then you shall lead the way, little moth.”
To my surprise, as we walk down the street, none of the passersby pay us any attention.
No one so much as glances our way. How very strange.
Given that no fae have been spotted in Hollins for many years, according to the proprietor of the inn at least, I’d expected everyone to stop and stare.
I’d even worried that people might run away or perhaps some soldiers might approach us and demand to know our business.
But it’s as though we’re invisible.
Sure, there aren’t many people on the street yet, not at this early hour, but there are enough passersby that I expect at least a few would take notice of the formidable fae male at my side.
I shoot a questioning look at Gideon, and he gives me a playful smile.
“I’m wearing a glamour,” he says. “A disguise. To everyone but you, I look like a very short, very ugly human man.”
Before I can stop myself, a laugh bubbles up my throat. I can’t help it. The idea of Gideon appearing as anything but an exceedingly handsome fae lord is rather amusing.
“Why aren’t you showing the glamour to me?”
He lifts his eyebrows. “Because you are so struck by my good looks that nearly every time you glance at me, you flush beautifully. I don’t want those blushes to stop.”
I tear my gaze from him and stare straight ahead at the street. My face burns, and gods, I know I’m probably flushing again. I hope he realizes that this time it’s because I’m agitated and perhaps a bit embarrassed, not because I’m experiencing desire.
“I do not blush nearly every time I look at you, Gideon,” I say in a sharp tone. “Nor am I struck by your good looks. I daresay that you think too highly of yourself, though I suppose that’s typical behavior for a haughty fae lord.”
As he chuckles, his sharp, white teeth are revealed to me for the first time.
“Haughty fae lord? Careful, little moth, or your insults might wound me.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at him.
The cool morning air does nothing to combat the heat still enveloping my face. Gods, why can’t I better control myself around the huge fae male?
As the inn comes into sight, I consider the impending meeting with my father. My stomach flips, and perspiration borne from anxiety touches my brow. Is my father awake yet? Has he discovered the letter I shoved under his door? Did the contents of my hastily written missive tear out his heart?
Gideon squeezes my hand and pulls me to a stop in the middle of the street. He turns me to face him and looks at me with concern reflected in his dark eyes. My throat burns. When he looks at me like that—with worry for me—it makes my heart ache with longing in a way that terrifies me.
It makes me want to seek solace in his arms.
“What is wrong, Isabel?” he asks gently, his deep, rumbling voice vibrating through me like a comforting caress.
I hesitate to answer. I already feel like I’ve opened up to him too much.
He knows about my past. He knows about the orcs that captured me.
He knows about the orc seer whose pronouncement that I was fated to a highborn fae male has haunted me for years.
He knows how desperate I am to escape him, and he knows how much I care about my father.
I chide myself for exchanging information with him last night, even though I was nearly frantic to learn why he was hunting me down and whether he was aware of what we are to one another.
Then I think of Helena, my dearest friend. She’s currently being held captive by the Winter King. Thank the gods she’s still alive. If Gideon hadn’t found me, I probably would’ve never learned what happened to her.
Again, I wonder if I shared too much with Gideon last night. And it’s becoming difficult to think clearly when he’s looking at me like that… with so much concern.
How can he care about me this soon in our acquaintanceship? Is it only because of the mating bond?
“Isabel… little moth… please, tell me what’s troubling you.”
I swallow hard. “I’m nervous about facing my father.
He’s going to be heartbroken when he learns you’ve found me.
Heartbroken, but also worried for me.” Tears cloud my vision, and I blink fast, not wanting to break down crying in the middle of the street.
“I-I fear this might be goodbye forever. Will I ever see him again?”
Gideon’s expression softens. “I will take you to visit your father on occasion. I promise.”