Chapter 3
Chapter three
Kelvar
If carrying a sleeping Alyx had caused me to worry about the success of my mission, then the task of holding an awake Alyx had me teetering on the edge of failure.
I did not worry about her overpowering me and escaping through strength. In fact, I found the unsure way she held a knife downright bizarre for one who had spent their life riding alongside the Lord of a Clan.
I didn’t have the mental fortitude to consider such things right now, though. Not when she currently sat before me on Dileas’s back, my thighs bracketing hers and one arm around her waist holding her in place as she rested her bound wrists before her.
Every slight breeze caused her silken silver hair to flutter across my face, and I found that it smelled of the larrea flowers I had compared her to when I first saw her. The thought of the blooms made me grimace, and I was glad Alyx couldn’t see my face as I screwed my eyes shut in frustration.
I hadn’t meant to call her “Flower” earlier, but it had slipped out unbidden.
In fact, I hadn’t meant for a lot of things to happen on our journey together, short as it had been so far.
I had meant to be detached and aloof, keeping my distance and simply delivering her to Lord Deryn, who would ransom her back to her father in trade for the legendary weaponsmith who rode with Clan Padra.
But the moment she woke and stiffened in my arms, I sensed her fear like bitterness on my tongue.
And so, I had reassured her she was safe.
From there, our interactions only continued to spin out of my control, like an untamed colt barreling ahead despite my desperate pleas for it to stop.
Then, in the moment when her magic brushed against mine, I had nearly flown apart into a million pieces. Lightning had danced at the edge of my consciousness, and my vision went a blinding white. But it was not unpleasant, like losing control so often was. Far from it.
In fact, I almost wished it had been unpleasant.
Now, I glared at the back of the silver head in front of me, trying to puzzle out its contents. I dared not reach out toward her power and risk a repeat of earlier, but curiosity gnawed at me all the same. I sensed licks of magic in many who rode among the clans but nothing like Alyx’s.
Hers seemed almost…
Even in my own head I hesitated to continue.
Like mine, I forced myself to think. At least in magnitude, if not in quality. If my power was the searing, unforgiving intensity of the desert sun, then hers was the calm majesty of the velvety night sky, lit with endless stars on a moonless night.
Now, Alyx shifted against me, and I gritted my teeth as it pushed her hips back against mine. I wasn’t sure which tortured me more, her physical proximity, or the strange ache where my magic lived in the pit of my belly that begged me to reach out and drown in her power once more.
I had to bite my tongue to keep from groaning aloud. I could not be having such thoughts. She was a hostage, and after her father agreed to Lord Deryn’s price, I would likely never see her again.
Still, I needed a reprieve.
I looked toward the horizon, and my heart sank.
The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in brilliant oranges and purples as it dipped below the horizon. The dark smudges of tents and an encampment in the distance were nowhere to be found.
I had hoped the desert, in her ever-shifting landscapes, would grant me a short ride back to my own clan. But it was not her will.
With a sigh, I pulled Dileas to a halt.
“We should make camp for the evening.”
Alyx huffed. “We won’t be doing anything unless you untie me.” She lifted her bound wrists in illustration.
“I will set up camp, while you sit and watch,” I clarified with a grimace.
Then I slid down off Dileas’s back. Before Alyx could attempt to follow, slowed by her immobilized hands, I reached up and lifted her down, slinging her over my shoulder instead of setting her on the ground.
She squeaked indignantly and kicked her legs.
“I can walk!” she insisted.
I used one arm banded over her thighs to stop her flailing, instantly becoming aware that she still only wore the thin shift she had been wearing when I took her. The hem was riding dangerously high as she draped over my shoulder.
I swallowed down the thought that I seemed cursed to continue making bad decisions when it came to my charge and used my free hand to rifle around in my packs for another length of rope.
“I know you can,” I responded as I carried her over to a pile of boulders near where we had halted. “And if I don’t do something about that, you might steal my horse and ride away while I set up our fire.”
Bending down, I set her on the ground, so her back was propped against the rocks, and found her scowling at me. “I would never steal a horse.”
I raised a brow at her, and she continued to stare me down unwaveringly. I found that I believed her.
Horse theft was one of the highest crimes in the clans, second only to murder. But clansmen were generally not opposed to spilling blood, and I had kidnapped her. Somehow, though, I sensed that she wasn’t lying, despite the fact that stealing Dileas might be excusable in these circumstances.
Maybe it was the openness in her gaze, despite her glower. Or perhaps it was the sense of pure brightness that had shot through me when I brushed against her magic earlier.
Still, I shrugged and grabbed her ankles. Even as she kicked against me, I was able to capture them both in one hand. “Maybe you wouldn’t, but you already pulled a knife on me once. I would prefer not waking up to my throat slit.”
She stopped struggling, likely realizing it was futile, and let me tie her ankles. I could feel her scowling at me as I finished. The weight of her gaze didn’t abate as I went about setting up a small camp and building a fire.