CHAPTER SIX
After Garrick showed me how to start a fire and we ate a dinner of fresh fish drawn from his traps, the wolf shifter pulled aside some tree branches to reveal a hidden cave resting near the stream’s embankment. “Troll-free,” he said with a wink. “I stay here often.”
He removed a bedroll from his pack and laid it out near the edge of the cave, close enough to our fire to receive its warmth. It worried me that he only had one, but shyness overtook me when I considered asking him about it. Hopefully, as with the single beds, he had a plan.
Instead, I settled on the floor close to the cavern’s mouth to soak up the fire’s heat. When I peered out and up, through the pine branches swaying overheard, I could pick out the first stars sprinkling across the evening sky.
“Which was your stepfather’s favorite constellation?” Garrick asked, noticing my look. It startled me, filling me with a pleasant jolt of warmth to realize he’d been watching me so closely and remembering my words about my stepfather.
“The hunter,” I said, laughing a little. “He loved to share the story about his feats against the...” I shrugged apologetically. “Well, about the dark fae who tried to kidnap his daughter. I always liked to imagine he would fight that hard for me, if ever a fae crossed the border and wanted to take me away.” For a moment, I frowned at the sky, thinking painfully of the times Charles had sat beside me listening to that very same story. How easily he’d offered me to the fae.
When I glanced back at Garrick, I found his eyes already on me, soft with understanding. As if sensing I didn’t want to discuss it, he let his somber expression melt into an easy grin. “I was always told the hunter was defending a lover. He was fae, but he’d fallen for a mortal woman that was betrothed to a greedy and cold king from another land. Forced to escort the woman he loved to her wedding, he protected her from every sort of dangerous creature and curse along the journey.”
“And then what happened?”
“He asked her to run away with him, but when they tried, the king’s soldiers tracked them down. They killed the hunter, and the human woman married the king.”
I frowned. “Stories are supposed to end happily.”
Garrick leaned back against the cavern wall to study the sky. “Fae ones aren’t meant to have any sort of endings. They’re either pieces of history, passed along over generations until one can’t tell truth from myth, or they’re told as warnings and lessons. I think our version of the hunter’s story might be a piece of one of our kingdoms’ histories, though the details are so vague now, it’s hard to tell.”
“Father’s stories were to let us escape into a happy world for a time,” I said wistfully. “And perhaps to teach lessons too, but they were about good deeds overcoming the bad.”
“Let me tell you a happier story then,” Garrick said, pointing to a bright star, one of the first that had appeared in the gathering darkness. “In Brytwilde, we call that star aeveld, which in the old language means hope. It’s the brightest star in the winter sky, the one that banishes the most darkness. Some like to say it’s a gift from one of the goddesses, her parting reminder that even in the blackest of nights, starlight will make a way for you and give you hope.” He tossed me a grin. “What do you think of that, Starlight?”
My face flushed. “I thought you called me that because of my hair.”
“True,” he said, his expression sincere, “but also because you shine brighter than any of those sad mortals in your town. Why do you think I chose to speak to you?”
I smirked. “Because I saw through your glamour and you wanted to know why?”
Garrick laughed. “Even before I realized that, I knew there was something special about you.”
Covering my face to conceal my awkwardness, I shook my head and laughed along with him. “You’re a horrible flirt. I don’t believe anything you say.”
“I can’t lie, can I?”
Pretending to be furious, I lifted a pinecone from the cavern’s floor and tossed it in his direction.
Garrick schooled his expression, tucking away his laughter and teasing. “In all seriousness, I’ll try not to flirt and make you uncomfortable, but I think you should know your worth after all the rot your townspeople spoke about you. Magic or not, you deserve a better life, far away from that town. I’m sorry for the way things happened, but I can’t say I’m sorry you have a chance to experience Silverfrost. Tomorrow, I’ll try to help you practice your magic, unfit as I am for that.” He stood, stretching his arms. “You should get some sleep. I’m going to keep watch. I warn you: I have to put out the fire now that it’s growing dark or it’ll attract others for miles around, but I have a makeshift door I can use to shut you in, so you’ll be all right.”
“Won’t you need sleep?”
He shook his head. “I’ll stay outside in wolf form. When I shift back, it’ll be as if my fae form slept all that time, dormant while I prowled about as a wolf.” He grinned. “I have to enjoy the benefits of the little magic I’m granted while I can, and this seems like a good time. I’ll wake you if there’s any trouble.” He lifted one of the pine branches to step outside, but before he left, he glanced over his shoulder. “Sleep well, Starlight.”
Garrick’s makeshift door was made up of bark and sealed the cave entrance well enough to keep the lingering warmth of the fire inside. Curled up in my coat and bundled within the bedroll, I was able to stay comfortable, with my own body heat soon filling the small space until I drifted off to sleep.
The scrape of the door pushing inward woke me just as Garrick filled the entrance, silhouetted by the pale grey light of pre-dawn. He tossed a pair of boots, a tin, and some thick woolen socks beside me. “Sorry to wake you,” he said, voice hoarse. “I know my boots were hurting you, so I traded with Shavonne for a new pair. You’ll need to apply that salve to help heal your feet and prevent infection. And you’ll need to hurry.” He leaned against the wall, shoving the door closed and immersing us in darkness.
But not before I caught a glimpse of an arrow shaft protruding from his leg and blood drenching his trousers.
“You’re hurt!” I gasped.
The sound of a striking match filled the space as Garrick reached for a lantern on a natural shelf in the cavern, lighting the candle within and setting it on the ground. In its flickering glow, I noticed how pale his face was as he grasped the arrow and, with a muted grunt, tore it free. “I’ll be fine. Please hurry.”
Gritting my teeth, I hastened to obey Garrick, yanking off my bloodied socks and applying a generous amount of salve to my feet. I wrapped them using a roll of gauze from Garrick’s pack and shoved them into the thick socks. Instantly, the pain eased, making me wonder what magic the salve contained. The relief made it bearable to tie on the new boots, which fit perfectly, and stand. “Let me see your wound,” I insisted, crouching before Garrick and studying the blood staining his trouser leg.
“It’ll heal,” Garrick said, but when his eyes met mine, they were glassy. “I was struck while in wolf form. Give it a little time, and the wound will improve. That’s one benefit of being a shifter—the injuries you sustain in your animal form don’t affect you nearly as much when you’re in your high fae form.” He flashed me a smile, a little less brilliant than his usual grins. “There’s a party of soldiers hunting us, and it won’t take them long to draw near. We need to leave. Can you walk?”
“You’re asking me if I can walk?”
Garrick just shot me a pointed look, refusing to let me worry over him.
I stood, setting my jaw. “Yes.”
As we packed, Garrick’s limp grew less pronounced, and the color began to return to his face. “Already much better,” he insisted as we stood in the dark. We paused long enough for him to listen for any approaching footsteps, and then he slid the door free.
The growing daylight burned my eyes.
“I’m afraid we’ll have to travel hard to stay ahead of them,” Garrick said grimly. “There won’t be time to stop for resting or training. Can you manage?”
My legs were already sore from days of walking further than I’d ever gone before, and my stomach ached with a demand for breakfast after all the exertion, but I nodded. I didn’t have a choice.
Even with our fast pace, Garrick retained his cheerful attitude, joking with me whenever he could as if he knew I needed the distraction so my thoughts wouldn’t stray toward danger. I didn’t want to imagine what was after us—one dullahan had been terrifying enough and left its marks on Garrick, though he’d never complained about his back again. Four pursuers—ones that had shot the wolf shifter already and incited this level of urgency in him—made me nervous.
As daylight faded, I was stumbling, hardly able to keep myself upright, and Garrick seemed unable to conceal his distress. “I’m afraid we weren’t able to travel as far as I’d hoped,” he confessed as he scanned the thick forest around us. Shadows were growing long and the air was turning more frigid, nipping at my cheeks and making my fingers ache even in my gloves. “We’re too far from the next outpost to stop soon.”
Heavy-lidded, I didn’t even try to waste energy acknowledging him. It took everything in me to put one foot in front of the other. My legs throbbed and my lungs burned with each uphill step. I clung to his arm with a death grip to prevent myself from sliding in the snow.
“Starlight,” he said, gently. He stopped so suddenly I almost collapsed.
I turned to him in confusion. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable.” Without further warning, he scooped me effortlessly into his arms.
My gasp died in my throat. I was too exhausted to care about propriety, too desperate for warmth and rest. Leaning my head against his chest, I relished the heat that emanated from his body and the scents of leather and fur and snow. A sense of safety banished all my fear, and without meaning to, I drifted.
It was full dark when I jolted awake, still cocooned in Garrick’s arms. My breath misted in front of me, and when I glanced into the wolf shifter’s face, I saw tension in his furrowed brow and clenched jaw.
That was when I realized a sound had awoken me. More noises followed. Crunching twigs that seemed to split the air in two, and then muffled voices. Our pursuers were closing in on us.
My heart slammed into my throat, and ice shot through my veins, a rush so sudden and violent that black frost crackled around us, spreading across the ground beneath Garrick’s boots.
Garrick dipped his head low, his mouth so close his breath brushed my ear. He spoke in such a quiet whisper I had to strain to make it out. “Your magic is wild and unpredictable, connected to your emotions. Calm your thoughts and will the magic to stay within you. I’m going to set you down so you can hide while I draw them out and distract them. Be as quiet as possible. If anything goes wrong—run.”
But when he set me down, I couldn’t force my legs to move. Garrick was no longer a stranger—he’d become a friend, someone I was learning to trust, to admire. How could I even consider leaving him? What if he was injured again and needed my help? But I couldn’t object to his plan aloud and risk the approaching fae with their keener hearing catching my voice.
As if reading my rebellious thoughts, Garrick shook his head at me and gave me a gentle shove.
My steps crunched over the ice forming at my feet, each one far too loud. Garrick waited patiently behind me, his bow still fastened to his back and his blades sheathed.
I found a nearby pine and crouched behind it, struggling to control my breathing and the shivers racking my body. Ice splintered around me. When I grasped a branch for support, frost laced its bark. I staggered back, pleading silently with the distant, apathetic gods.
Garrick straightened, sliding his hands casually into his coat pockets, and began to whistle. Loudly.
Not a second too soon.
Four figures emerged from the shadows deeper within the woods. As they drew nearer, the starlight filtering through the forest canopy dappled them in a silver glow, making it easy for me to discern their features. The man in the lead had skin like tree bark and mossy green eyes. When his gaze met Garrick’s, he lifted his chin in greeting. Three other men—one appearing more human, another with feathery wings the color of dust, and the final looking like a gnome with his grey features and short, stocky frame—all brought up the rear, their hands on their sword hilts.
I inhaled a frosty breath, listening to the tree branch groan from the ice weighing it down. Squeezing my eyes shut, I clenched my fists and willed my magic to return to wherever it had come from, to sink back down deep inside me.
“Why, Garrick Darkgrove,” called a self-satisfied sounding voice. My eyes flew open. The bark-skinned man was the speaker, a smirk I didn’t trust spreading across his face. His eyes scanned the area, roving about as if he already knew I was nearby. My heart hammered against my sternum. “I apologize if our arrow put you a little on edge,” the man went on. “When I saw you running about in your animal form, you appeared like nothing more than a common wolf.” His cruel grin broadened, and I took note of the way he’d crafted his sentence. He’d made it sound as if the shot had been an accident, but he hadn’t said outright that he’d thought Garrick had merely been a wolf. I was certain he’d shot him intentionally. “Are you on another hunt?”
Garrick responded with a smirk of his own, not even bothering to remove his hands from his pockets as he offered a lazy shrug. “That little pinprick? It was nothing but a nuisance. And why else would I be trekking through the mountains, Ian?”
I hugged my arms to my chest, trying to stave off my chills. Blessedly, the ice had stopped spreading, but I didn’t trust that I wouldn’t accidentally unleash more.
Ian’s eyes turned sharp, and the winged man at his side crossed his arms. “Why else? Perhaps for the same reason we are. I’d imagine word spread to you about the girl that was given to the Silverfrosts. They’ve offered a handsome bounty to whoever claims her first.” His grin turned devious, revealing sharp canines. “And they didn’t specify what condition she must be brought in, other than alive.” He stepped closer. “Tell me, does a lone wolf like you grow greedy, hoping to keep a new plaything all to himself?”
Garrick stiffened, the smirk freezing on his face. His gold eyes turned blank and eerily cold, suddenly looking more wolflike. “You have me all wrong,” he said, a warning snarl edging his tone. “Does it look like I have a girl in my possession?” He spread his arms wide, as if inviting the royal servants to search the forest. “I don’t want trouble. Be on your way. Find this girl you seek. Leave me out of your search.”
“Hold still,” Ian commanded.
And, without question or hesitation, Garrick obeyed, his eyes turning glassy.
Without warning, Ian seized Garrick by the neck. Garrick choked, his complexion turning red, but he didn’t resist, didn’t even try to fling off his attacker. Even his expression remained strange and distant, his eyes seeming to stare at something no one else could see.
The other fae laughed, the sound bouncing harshly off the trees.
I sucked in a furious breath, resisting the urge to launch myself forward. What would I do? One afternoon of training with a knife hadn’t equipped me to fight off four fae. And my magic was unpredictable.
All my life, I’d been taught to be proper, to be agreeable, to not take up too much space. Kind Florentia. Quiet Florentia. Strange Florentia.
My emotions sent another rush of cold through me, and my magic spread, making more branches quake. This time, I did not fear being heard. The fae were too distracted by their cruel antics. And in that moment, I was too terrified for Garrick to know terror for myself.
“How does it feel,” Ian purred, “to be helpless? To be a pathetic little dog?” Still Garrick didn’t strike out against his attacker.
Helpless. I remembered what Garrick had told me about his weak glamour. Did that mean he was also helpless to resist the compulsions of other fae? Had Ian forced Garrick to remain still while he choked him? Was he going to murder him right here in front of me?
Perhaps this was the moment in which Garrick expected me to run. Maybe he knew he couldn’t fend off these men, and he’d only hoped to be a distraction.
Another wave of cold made me shiver. Garrick had been prepared to risk his life for me. He’d been nothing but kind and good, perhaps the truest friend I’d ever known. I could trust him more than I could trust the people I’d lived among my whole life. I couldn’t watch him die. I couldn’t lose him.
The icy knot building in my chest seemed to bloom outward, like a spreading snowstorm, overtaking everything in its path. My body was full of cold fury and purpose. The magic felt instinctual, natural.
And it burst out of me.
This time it wasn’t merely ice. It was the full strength of a raging snowstorm, frigid winds lashing at my coat and hair and huge flakes tumbling from bloated clouds that wrapped about me like a cloak. They misted and whirled in a beautiful, hazy dance, throwing snow until all I could see was blinding white. There was a rumble, and the earth shook. A roar like the mountain was descending upon us shredded the air, but the storm within and without me didn’t relent, not even with my mounting fear.
Perhaps it was fueled by my continued rage, or perhaps it was something beyond me now, too powerful in this magical land for a mere mortal like myself to control. Shrieks and screams joined the whistling wind, mingling into a clamor that made me utterly disoriented. I staggered, terrified I’d fall or be buried alive in the blizzard I’d conjured.
“Avalanche,” a voice growled, startling me with its closeness. Garrick. His warm hand seized my wrist, and I wondered if his fae or wolfish senses had been what allowed him to navigate through the snow and wind to find me. “I think even if you manage to stop your magic, it’ll be too late to stop the snow coming from the mountain peak. We need to find safety. Now.”
My teeth chattered as I searched for Garrick’s golden eyes. Whether from his warmth or the distraction of his presence, the reassurance that he was safe, the fury of the storm was already dying. The snowflakes had thinned, and the wind didn’t roar quite so loudly. “Is there time?” I asked.
“Climb on my back. It’ll be faster.”
Before I could fully register the change, Garrick had vanished—or rather, he had transformed. A beautiful white wolf with Garrick’s piercing gold eyes, standing as tall as my waist, stood before me. Without hesitating another moment, I seized some of his fur in my hands and slung myself onto his back.
My heart lurched into my throat as Garrick launched us down the mountain, snow tumbling beneath his paws as he charged around trees and leapt fallen logs with astounding grace and speed. Icy wind bit my cheeks, and, even through my gloves, my fingers grew numb, threatening to lose their grip on his fur. Behind us, the rumbling of the oncoming avalanche and the cries of our enemies grew more distant.
But I knew for as fast as Garrick ran, the avalanche would be easily twice as swift.
Tears filled my eyes and froze on my lashes from the cold, but I couldn’t fully release my magic either. Snowflakes turned into hail, chunks of black ice large enough to pelt painfully against my face and hands. I shivered so violently now that I thought I’d knock myself off Garrick’s back even before my fingers could lose their grip.
I swayed, nearly slipping off. Gritting my teeth against their chattering, I dug my knees into Garrick’s sides, hoping I didn’t hurt him as I struggled to keep my seat. He released a low growl, but it didn’t sound threatening. I imagined he was trying to encourage me to hold on a bit longer.
Behind us, the roar of the avalanche was growing in its rage. I dared a glance over my shoulder to see a wall of white churning past trees and rocks, devouring everything in its path. Swallowing down my terror, I leaned forward as far as I could, ducking close to Garrick’s warm body to keep my balance.
How much longer could he outrun this? I knew from growing up in the shadows of the mountains that avalanches could tumble for miles, killing animals and people in their merciless paths. I wondered if a death like that would be more like being crushed or suffocating as one drowned in a sea of snow. Squeezing my eyes shut against the stinging cold, I willed Garrick to run faster, willed my fingers—now completely numb—to somehow continue to cling to fur I could scarcely feel. No matter the heat of Garrick’s body, my own was freezing, like my very core was made of ice.
I wondered if my magic could kill me, turning me into a woman of solid black ice like the hailstones raining around us.
The world tilted abruptly, and I stifled a yelp as my eyes opened and I struggled to right myself, nearly tumbling off Garrick’s back. The roaring was so loud in my ears I couldn’t hear anything else, not even my own pulse. Ahead, a cavern loomed, and I realized Garrick’s intent. He knew we couldn’t outrun the wall of snow plowing toward us, so he meant to seek shelter.
My mind counted out the seconds as the snow rushed down the slope, trees groaning or splitting and crashing, only to be swallowed up in its relentless course. One tree slammed into another trunk, making the bare branches of the standing tree waver and shudder.
Suddenly, I feared being crushed by a tree before the snow even reached us.
But I didn’t have time to contemplate that further, as Garrick took a running leap, forcing me to cling with every last ounce of my strength to his fur. In the din surrounding us, my scream was silent, nothing but a vibration tearing at my throat. We landed, my forehead slamming against Garrick’s back. He leapt again, climbing a short ascent toward the cave in a rocky outcropping. Its elevation would be our salvation, the cave mouth hopefully high enough that the oncoming snow wouldn’t cover it and trap us inside.
Two more heartbeats and we were in the cave’s dark interior, the damp walls providing enough of an obstacle to slightly dull the avalanche’s thunder.
Exhaustion clung to me, as if the absence of an imminent threat to our lives had sucked all the energy from me. I sensed my magic stutter and stop, and I knew without having to turn that the low-hanging storm clouds had vanished and the hail had ceased. The cold building within me, however, had not.
I tumbled off Garrick’s back, shivering so much that my muscles ached.
Garrick was back in his fae form in an instant, fully clothed in his fur coat with his bow and quiver strapped to his back and blades at his sides, as if he’d never even been a wolf. He stooped beside me, laying a hand against my forehead and cursing. “I have no way to build you a fire, Starlight.”
“This isn’t proper in your world, I suppose, but I promise, I’m not trying to be forward.” Garrick flashed me a dimpled grin. It was beautiful, lighting up his whole face, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. That was enough for me to worry that he was right—I could kill myself with my lack of control on my magic. “I’m going to hold you so we can share body heat beneath this coat. It’ll warm you faster.” He hesitated. “I’m going to remove your coat too, because fewer layers between us will be more effective.” The cave was too dark for me to see his expression.
Even if I could have protested, I wouldn’t have. There was no one left to impress; I had no reputation to uphold. In this world, the only thing that mattered was survival.
Garrick unbuttoned my coat with nimble fingers, his face inches from mine. I tried to speak, to thank him, but my teeth chattered too violently. The cold air was almost unbearable as he slid the coat off my arms. Thankfully, he worked quickly, shucking off his own coat before drawing me down to the chilly cave floor, positioning us on our sides and draping our coats over us like blankets. For a moment, my face was so close to his I almost lost myself to embarrassment, but I was too frigid to let the feeling consume me. As he enfolded me in an embrace, pulling me flush against him, I tucked my head beneath his chin to avoid looking in his eyes. Instead, I let myself relish in the comfort of feeling myself gradually thaw.
Garrick’s body was warm and solidly muscled; his grasp was firm yet gentle. With my ear resting against his chest, I listened to the steady rhythm of his heart while his breath brushed through my hair. It felt peaceful. Safe.
My stomach lurched in a way that wasn’t unpleasant. I’d never been this close to a man, and so I couldn’t deny the feeling caught me by surprise. Being in Garrick’s arms should have felt foreign, but it was comfortable, giving me a sense of belonging.
Slowly, warmth crept through my body, stilling my quaking muscles and filling me with a more soothing version of my earlier exhaustion. Eventually, I realized that it had gone quiet outside, leaving nothing but a haunting silence over the mountainside. But in our cave, our little refuge, I had the music of his heartbeat and his breathing to lull me into sleep.