Chapter 16 #2
But then I blinked, freeing myself from his silky chains, and snapping myself back into reality. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Would you like one?”
Aegir appeared to have fallen still and silent—an Alarik kind of silent—and simply shook his head. I pushed my way to the bar, easily at first. But when the music resumed and the people moved at its command, I had to push harder. I shouted my order.
“Hey, beautiful,” commented a man whom I could see in my peripheral vision staring at me.
I don’t know why I did it, but I looked.
Then the bearded man with a thick scar across his right eye leaned in.
“If you’re looking for some fun, you can join me tonight, you know? I’ll gladly show you the best time.”
I decided I’d get the water later, so I pushed myself off the bar and made to turn away, but the bearded man hooked his arm around my waist, soiling my memory of Aegir’s touch, and pulled me towards him. I tried to push him off.
“Oh, come on, don’t be shy,” he purred, sniffing my shoulder. “Mmm, you smell nice.”
“Let me go!” I yelled, trying to escape his rough grip and failing.
“Let her go, or I’ll freeze your fucking arm off,” a harsh voice, which I’m sure was Aegir’s, came from behind us.
“Mind your own business.” His warm, ale-smelling breath fanned against my neck and I winced, squeezing my eyes shut.
“She is my own business—now let her go.”
His tough act crumbled the moment he turned us around and came face-to-face with the male who threatened his arm. His grip slacked, and I quickly slipped to Aegir’s side. “I’m—I’m sorry. I—I didn’t realise she was your lady,” Bearded stammered.
Before I could blink, Aegir dipped his hand in the tankard of water—that the waitress conveniently decided to finally bring—then grabbed a tight hold of Bearded’s upper arm. The man grimaced and let out a loud, agonising yelp. Sizzling white fumes formed where their skins touched.
Aegir’s words were cold and misty. “Do so much as look her way and I swear to Boreas, I’ll freeze you to death, then shatter you into tiny little pieces.
” When Aegir let go of his arm, a purple-black handprint remained.
And as the white mist dissipated, purple veins appeared, snaking their way out of the hand mark and wrapping themselves around the length of the man’s arm.
Bearded cradled his limb and scurried away like a scared dog—tail between his legs.
“Are you all right?” Aegir asked, lifting his arm to grab my own.
My breath caught in my throat, and I yanked my arm away. Shit. It—it was instinctual.
Aegir’s brow knitted. “Cordelia, I would never—”
“I would like to return to my room.”
His brows didn’t ease, and his nodding appeared reluctant. I could see the look of discontent taking over his face. But could he also see mine? My internal panic. I needed to get away because my lungs turned tight and I needed to be alone to calm my beating heart.
I just…needed to breathe.
My back hit the wooden door, and I took deep breaths, seizing back control of my body. Then I slumped next to the bath and splashed water on my face.
I stared at the bed for no longer than two seconds, then settled for the bedside carpet.
My head spun the moment it touched the pillow, and I could still faintly hear the music.
I wasn’t sure if it came from downstairs or if it was my mind replaying the songs I had earlier danced to.
My mouth felt as dry as cotton, and I was about to get up to drink from the valve, but footsteps held me in place. Aegir opened the door.
“Here,” he said, handing me a tankard of water.
“Thank you,” I whispered, tucking the blanket beneath my underarms and sitting myself up.
Despite being hidden behind the bed frame, I was still aware of his presence. I knew he walked over to the other side of the bed and plopped his pillow on the carpet.
“You can take the bed, I’ll take the floor,” he said.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The prince shouldn’t sleep on the floor,” I countered softly.
“Well, since I’m prince, I command you to take the bed.”
I ignored his ‘command’ and turned onto my side, my hand tucked beneath my chin. From the gap beneath the elevated bed frame, I watched him lie down on the carpet and fold his arms behind his head. After a while, he too turned onto his side, now facing me.
Waves of flickering light from the street lanterns made their way through the window, allowing me to catch continuous and contrasting glimpses of him.
The interplay of light and shadow danced across his face, giving it the look of undulating expressions.
One moment, the gentle glow of light warmed his features, his eyes, soft and kind, his lips, full and tender, but in the next, as shadows replaced light—carving his features into harsher ones—his eyes turned piercing and intense, his jawline, strongly defined.
I could not decide which looked more striking.