Chapter 41 #3
We finished getting ready and exited the room.
I paused at the doorway, taking one last look inside, etching everything about the small space into memory: the way the sunlight filtered through the windows, the chandelier, the bed where Sylvi and I had finally stopped denying what we were.
It felt like the kind of morning I’d cling to when the world inevitably turned dark again.
Sylvi’s voice drew me back. “Jack,” she called, holding up a slip of parchment from the table.
“What is it?”
“A letter from Helka,” she said, proceeding to read it out loud: “You and the prince seemed to have much to discuss this morning, and I did not wish to intrude. Bjarnalf and I won’t return until sundown. Skjolli will ensure you are fed and warm.”
She paused, frowning as she kept reading.
“Everything okay?”
She folded the note and stuck it inside her breast pocket, her gaze softening as she met my eyes. “It’s nothing. Helka just being Helka.” A smile curved on her lips, but the weariness coating her eyes told a different story.
“You sure that’s all?”
She sighed. “Of course. Anyway, I wish we could stay,” she said quickly, “but we need to start back as soon as possible.” She brushed past me, fastening a cloak over her shoulders. “I’ll check on Draum, make sure he’s ready to ride.”
Something felt off, but I decided to question her on our ride back. “I’ll gather some supplies.”
The front door creaked open, and a brisk wind whistled through, brushing against my ears before the latch clicked shut behind her.
I didn’t have a chance to take my next breath before the tether between us went taut, and the magic in my blood rippled with warning, awakening to some invisible threat.
I spun toward the door in less than a heartbeat, frostfire erupting from my hands as I crashed through the wood, splintering it into a million shards as I skidded to a halt right outside the cabin, breath freezing in my lungs.
Sylvi lay hung over the shoulder of a masked male, limp and unconscious. Another figure stood a few paces ahead, bow raised, arrow aimed straight at my chest.
I bared my teeth, frostfire crackling like lightning over my fingers. “Put her down.”
“Well, well,” the archer said, voice deep and mocking, “you should be dead after that dose of Umbrawort. Seems the witch is far more skilled than I gave her credit for.”
“Let her go,” I snarled, frost thickening around us, inky smoke coiling like snakes along my limbs.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that.”
“I won’t tell you again.”
“Shackle that magic if you value her life,” he cut in smoothly. “Unless you want to watch her die right here before your eyes.”
My jaw clenched. “If you meant to kill her, you wouldn’t be hauling her away unconscious.”
The archer raised a brow. “You’re right. I do need her alive. But I couldn’t very well have those claws of hers ripping me and my pack apart, could I?”
The male holding her over his shoulder pulled a long, thin iron needle from her neck and dropped it on the ground.
My heart sank, cold dread wrapping around my throat. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
“I gave her a micro-dose of the same venom I laced into your veins last night. Enough to keep her docile…enough to kill her if you continue to waste my time. I need to get her to my healer. So, I suggest you snuff those icy flames, princeling, or you’ll be responsible for her death.”
Behind me, the cabin groaned, the deep, creaking sound of its beams echoing through the pine trees surrounding us. A log levitated from the pile of firewood beside the stoop, flinging itself toward the masked males. One of them swung a sword and split the log in half mid-air.
“Ah, ah,” the archer said toward the cabin as his companion aimed a flaming arrow at its roof. “Try that again, and you’ll be nothing but ash, Huldskjól. We both know what happened the last time you meddled in mortal affairs.”
The cabin seemed to sag into itself.
From the tree line, another figure emerged, carrying a small iron cage.
Inside, a winged fairy seethed, her small hands gripping the bars. “Release me, you beasts!” she shrieked, but her voice rang faint against the magic trapping her inside.
“What do we do with this one?” the captor asked.
The archer’s eyes gleamed beneath his hood. “That little trickster caused us more trouble than she’s worth. Still…she may yet be of use. Put her in the sleigh.”
His gaze cut back to me. “As for you, Your Highness… Killing you would bring me nothing but pleasure, but I think there’s a fate far more fitting for your kind. A lesson. Perhaps you’ll learn what it means to be stripped of everything, just as my people were.”
My frostfire flared, tendrils of blue smoke lashing the air.
I kept my magic leashed, though. Umbrawort was deadly to magic wielders, and if that’s what he’d given Sylvi…
Skadi save me, if she died, I would rip this imbecile apart, limb by limb.
“You’re him, aren’t you? The wolf prince who thinks he can lay claim to her? ”
“Fenrik Mánabarn,” he replied. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Son of Ice.”
“Well, Fenrik Mánabarn, you’ve made a fatal mistake coming between me and my mate.”
At that, he tilted his head, lips curling into a snarl. “Trust me. I plan to scrub clean the foul stench you imprinted on her. Scrub until her skin bleeds.”
Icy blades sprouted from my fingertips. “Why don’t you come closer and repeat those words straight to my face.”
He flexed his gloved fingers over the grip of his bow and aimed the arrow at Sylvi, two more archers doing the same. “I think I’m okay right here, Frost. See, I may be a lot of things, but I’m not an idiot.”
“A coward, then.”
“Why should I get my hands dirty when I know your weakness? This arrow will pierce her skull faster than your twinkling icicles can reach me.”
“You willing to test that theory?”
“Are you?”
At my silence, he gestured to one of his packmates, and heavy iron shackles were thrust toward me, runes glowing red across the metal.
“Bind your wrists behind your back.”
“Fuck you.”
“The only one you’re fucking is your precious Captain Sylvi, and not in any way you’d enjoy. Every second you waste trying to be her hero is another second less to get her to my den and my healer. Now, shackle your wrists.”
I thought about resisting. Fuck, I could have ripped them all to shreds with my magic, but I couldn’t take the risk that one of them might release one of the arrows aimed at Sylvi. And I had no idea how fast that poison worked. What if I couldn’t get Sylvi to a healer in time?
I took the shackles, the iron hissing against my skin. “By Skadi’s blood, I swear, if you touch a single hair on her head, I will find you and peel the flesh off your fucking bones with my bare hands.”
As the rune-bound shackles clamped shut behind my back, securing my wrists, my frostfire sputtered, guttering like a dying flame until the power in my veins screamed as though being torn out by invisible claws. My knees hit the snow with a crack, breath ripping from my chest.
No longer seeing me as a threat, Fenrik stepped closer, his eyes blazing with a feral fire that spoke of his wolf lineage.
“Too bad I don’t worship your goddess, Prince.
And to kill me, you’d have to find me. And where you’re going…
I doubt you’ll have the chance.” He leaned in, close enough that his breath fogged the frozen air between us. “But please. Try. I’ll be waiting.”
“You will regret this,” I spat, venom on my tongue.
A boot slammed into my ribs. Another into my jaw. A fist crushed against my temple until my vision stuttered white. I tried to rise, spitting blood into the snow, but the kicks kept coming. The shackles gnawed at my magic, devouring every ounce of ice in my veins until only a hollow ache remained.
I bared my teeth, a guttural, mirthless laugh erupting from my soul as more blood spilled from my mouth, my nose. “I would’ve offered you peace, Fenrik, but you’ve chosen to bring me war. Now your people will suffer for your foolishness.”
He drew nearer, his shadow falling over me. “The time for peace is over, Son of Ice. My people will rise, and the bones of your brethren will be ground into the dirt. That’s my vow.”
The blows continued. Fists, boots hammering into my chest, my back. I choked on the copper of my blood, my body crumpling as I took each strike with a muffled groan. All I could think about was Sylvi… What they’d done to her… What these savages could still do.