Chapter 25
ISABEL
Gideon holds me close in the narrow area near the front of the cavern. His brother’s body is still inside, but at least he’s out of sight.
I suppress a shiver as I consider what almost happened.
I almost died. Gideon almost died.
“You’re alive, little moth,” my mate says. “And so am I.” He caresses my hair and keeps nuzzling his nose to mine, trying his best to comfort me.
My heart aches with love for him.
When he tenses, I know he just heard the thought. He leans back and stares into my eyes.
“I love you too, Isabel. With all that I am.”
I blink back tears, but I don’t respond. My throat is too clogged with emotion for me to speak right now. Besides, he heard my unguarded thoughts. He knows how I feel. He knows I would be devastated if Lachlan had managed to kill him.
Your arm! I say through the bond. I wiggle in his hold, trying to get a look at his arm.
It’s already healing, he replies. As a highborn fae, I heal quite fast. My leather shirt took the brunt of it, however, and the wound wasn’t very deep. Please do not worry for me, little moth.
He was going to kill me. I tremble in Gideon’s arms. He was going to kill me and you just… flashed between us. You did that twice, in fact. Oh, my gods. I didn’t know you could do that.
My mate leans down to kiss my forehead, his winter-cold lips lingering on my skin, prompting a rush of goosebumps that somehow feels comforting.
Yes, I can flash from one location to another, he replies. Though only short distances, and it uses a lot of my power. That is why we are still here. I have not recovered enough to summon wings yet.
Is there anything I can do to help? I ask through the bond. I could run outside and try to find some vines covered in ussha and bring them back here.
No, little moth, you don’t need to do anything. Just stay here in my arms, he says, his voice a reassuring rumble in my head. Just stay with me, my sweet mate.
Okay. I won’t go anywhere. I snuggle deeper in his arms and let my hands drift over his chest. As I gaze up at him, affection passes between us through the bond, endless warmth and devotion. It’s so intense, so honest and raw, that it brings tears to my eyes.
“I love you, Gideon,” I finally whisper aloud.
He smiles. “And I love you, too, little moth.”
The morning sun glints off the snow-covered fields, trees, and frozen lakes as Gideon flies toward the Winter Court army’s encampment. He holds me tightly in his arms, and I revel in the closeness of our bond.
In the end, it was the bond that I once tried so desperately to outrun that saved me. It saved us both.
The encampment finally comes into sight, though it’s nearly disassembled.
I spot thousands of soldiers on the ground below, packing the large white canvases, loading boxes onto wagons, and lining up to prepare for the march north.
Winged fae fly back and forth over the mountaintops and through the valley below, patrolling the skies.
As soon as Gideon lands in a small clearing near King Theron’s tent, Helena calls my name and rushes toward me. She looks me up and down, then gently draws me in for a hug.
“I’m all right. Just a few bruises, and Commander Ashvale already healed them,” I say, not wanting to mention my broken ribs for fear of causing her worry. “What about you? Are you all right?”
“I am fine,” she assures me. “And it was the same for me. Just a few bruises, and my mate healed them too.”
I glance over my shoulder when I hear deep voices. Gideon and King Theron are speaking in hushed tones. My heart breaks when I realize he’s telling the king about Lachlan.
Leaning closer to Helena, I grasp her hand and share the news, whispering into her ear.
She gasps. “Oh, my gods. How frightening. I’m so glad you survived.” She squeezes my hand.
“I’m thankful you survived as well. That explosion… when Lachlan used his magic to blast past Gideon’s wards around the cabin… well, either one of us could’ve easily died at that moment.”
She pales, then nods briefly. “Yes, you’re right about that. I still can’t believe he managed to lure half of the guards away and then killed the rest.”
Before I can reply, Gideon and the king join us.
We stay for breakfast, and I’m pleased to discover that my appetite has returned, at least a little.
A steaming mug of tea warms my hands, and the fragrant scent of cinnamon rising from it feels wonderfully comforting after the terror of the night.
Platters of warm bread, roasted vegetables, and honeyed frost-apples sit on the long wooden table inside King Theron’s tent.
For the first time since the blast in the cabin, the realm feels almost normal. Almost.
I glance across the table at Gideon. He sits close enough that his knee keeps brushing against mine, a silent reassurance that he is here and that we are both safe.
He appears outwardly calm, but the bond reveals a different story.
Beneath his calm expression, grief continually moves through him in deep, dark waves.
Lachlan. He’s thinking about Lachlan.
My chest tightens, and I try to send him a wave of comfort.
He catches my eye and gives me a gentle smile, and I sense his appreciation through the bond.
When the meal is over, we say our goodbyes to Helena and the king.
It’s time to prepare for our journey to Frostfall.
Rather than flying, we’ll be traveling with the wagons.
Wagons that aren’t horse-drawn but instead glide across the air directly above the ground, propelled by winter magic alone.
We’ll need to stay with the wagons because they will be transporting the frozen bodies. My chest tightens again.
As we wait for the soldiers to finish preparing the wagons, I spot a frozen lake in the distance, and I grasp Gideon’s hand and lead him there.
He follows without question, and we soon arrive at the frozen lake that glitters brilliantly under the morning sunlight.
The soldiers’ voices fade into the background, and we hear only the wind whispering through the trees.
It’s peaceful here, and I hope the quiet moment will help my mate collect his thoughts and perhaps even start to come to terms with his brother’s death, as well as his guilt over what almost happened to me.
“A soldier went to retrieve Lachlan’s body from the cave,” Gideon eventually says. “Gods, he was my brother. My only sibling…”
The pain in his voice makes my eyes burn with tears. Stepping closer, I slip my arms around his waist and rest my cheek against his chest. “I know.”
“He was lost to his grief,” Gideon says. “He was mad with it. I’m not sorry I killed him, yet I’m sorry I had to do it. I hope that makes sense. Gods. Most of all, though, I am sorry that he hurt you. I am sorry that he scared you.”
I tighten my hold on him. “I understand, but you did what you had to do. You didn’t have a choice. And you saved me. Then you healed me.”
His arms come around me then, holding me with a tenderness that makes my heart swell with boundless affection. “I almost lost you.”
“But you didn’t,” I whisper. “I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
He snorts lightly. “As if I would let you go anywhere. I will never let you out of my sight again.” He runs his hands through my hair, tightening his arms around me. The bond remains a warm hum between us, a comfort as we both think of all that might’ve gone wrong yesterday.
But we both survived. We are still whole.
And the battle in Hollins went better than I ever expected, thanks to the Winter King’s mercy. Thanks to Helena’s persuasive ways. I know over two hundred soldiers died, and the mayor too, but no one else in Hollins got hurt. My father is alive and well, and so are the Geltrinns.
Gideon turns me to face the mountain behind us, and he points to a small clearing amid the snow-covered pines. “I was thinking right there would be the best spot for our cabin. We would have a perfect view of the frozen lakes, the endless forest, and the valley below.”
Then he sends me an image through the bond, and I see it as clearly as he’s picturing it. A large but cozy cabin trimmed in glittering silver and blue, in the style of the Winter Court, stands tall in the clearing. It’s surrounded by frost-apple trees, ice-berry bushes, and wandering reindeer.
“I think you picked just the right spot,” I murmur, awestruck by the vivid details in the shared vision.
Resting my cheek against Gideon’s chest, I listen to the steady beating of his heart as we share a quiet moment built on trust.
In less than an hour, we’ll embark on our journey to Frostfall. I’ll see what is left of his crumbling home province, and then we’ll lead his people back to the ussha-blessed human lands. It won’t be an easy task, but we will share the burden of any difficulties that arise.
As he tightens his arms around me and his winter-cold breath caresses my neck, I come to a comforting realization: wherever Gideon is, that is where my home will always be.
“Yes, little moth,” he murmurs. “Always and forever.”