Chapter 14 #2
And when Gregorat's heart finally gave out, Reis snarled as if insulted by him for choosing to die, so he tore him apart anyway. He peeled off his armor and shredded his body with his bare hands, ripping off each piece, mauling his flesh, leaving behind nothing recognizable.
And when he was finally sated, he stood. Blood dropped from his hands into the white snow. His chest heaved once, twice, before the violence seemed to ebb from him like a receding tide. He blinked up at the pale sky as snow drifted silently against his armor.
Something settled over him then. The savage frenzy faded from his face and clarity slowly returned to his eyes.
Then he looked at Mirielle.
Heavy tremors wracked her body as she sat on the forest floor, her attention fixed on Reis. Her silver eyes shook, watching him.
Reis's expression changed instantly. Fear struck him hard and stripped him bare. It was fear of what she might do next. The remaining bloodlust vanished from him so suddenly it was jarring.
He went deathly still, as if afraid even the slightest movement would scare her. Snow gathered silently in his dark hair while he watched her with unbearable caution.
Kellan moved first.
Without a word, he crossed the blood-soaked clearing and gathered Lettie against him, shielding her from the sight of what remained of Gregorat. She clung to him instinctively, trembling hard, as he carried her farther into the trees.
He bent his head toward her, murmuring something low into her hair.
Then there was only silence.
For a long time Reis and Mirielle just stared at each other. Their only barrier was Hank's warm body like a living wall between them. The only sound was his steady breathing.
With careful slowness, Reis moved away from Gregorat's remains. Blood followed his footsteps, staining the snow.
Mirielle flinched violently. The reaction was involuntary, torn from somewhere deep inside her. Her hand flew to her chest, fingers clutching at nothing as if trying to hold herself together.
Reis stopped immediately. Something flickered across his face then—something sharp and wounded.
Then slowly, Reis lowered himself. He sat on the forest floor, legs crossed, resting his blood-soaked wrists on his knees. Making himself smaller. Making himself harmless.
Snow gathered on his shoulders as he waited...and waited.
Time passed as they sat in heavy silence.
Mirielle's tremors began to subside ever so slowly.
The violent shakes softened into little quivers.
Her breathing started to return to a normal rhythm.
Reis listened as her heart began to assume its normal unsteady pace.
He clung to the sound like a starving man.
When she finally moved, Reis sat perfectly still, as if he had trained his body for this very purpose. She pulled a linen shirt from the sack tied to Hank's saddle. Then she stood and walked to Reis, moving slowly as if afraid her own instincts would betray her.
As she approached, Reis lowered his gaze in quiet surrender, afraid his eyes would be enough to scare her.
She sat in front of him and began wiping the blood from his face. Each pass seemed to settle something inside of her. Not healed, only smoothed. As if wiping the blood separated the monster from the man.
When his eyes finally lifted to hers, there was something unbearably careful about them. As if he wanted to apologize for the simple misdeed of what he was.
Mirielle reached for his hands. They were still dark and coated with drying blood. Reis winced and pulled his hand away.
"Don't." His voice was rough. "I don't want any part of him touching you again."
Mirielle watched him for a moment. Then she dropped her hands to her lap.
"Thank you," she whispered. A small, pained smile painted her face.
Reis shut his eyes briefly.
When he looked at her again, that terrible carefulness remained but now there was something else beneath it too.
Something warm.
Something devastatingly human.
"Never thank me for protecting you, Mirielle."
*
Kellan and Lettie returned some hours later on Maisey. Lettie had buried herself in Kellan's neck, not yet ready to face the reality of what Reis was. Even from a distance, Mirielle could see her body shivering softly.
Kellan’s usual easy grin was gone. His expression had sharpened into something quiet and watchful.
Reis found a creek and scrubbed himself vigorously before he would touch Mirielle.
When he returned, his dark hair was damp from the freezing water. His sleeves had been shoved to his forearms, his knuckles split where he had scoured away dried blood with handfuls of snow and rough stone. Exhaustion was buried deep in his eyes.
He paused when he saw her. Mirielle sat atop Hank's broad back with both hands wrapped around the saddle's edge.
She looked impossibly small against the great black stallion.
The adrenaline had burned away, leaving only exhaustion.
Her shoulders slumped beneath her cloak, her silver eyes distant as they wandered over the bloodied field.
A cold breeze blew loose strands of black hair across her face, but she didn't seem to notice.
Hank turned his great head the moment Reis approached. The stallion gave an indignant snort before nudging Mirielle's boot with his nose, earning himself the faintest hint of a smile.
"You are entirely too clever," she murmured, rubbing the velvet between his ears. "I saw that trick."
Hank tossed his head proudly.
"Thank you very much for your protection."
Hank puffed out his chest as if accepting the praise on behalf of his entire species.
Reis walked to Hank's side and looked up at her.
His gaze searched her face with quiet desperation, looking for any trace of fear, for anything that told him she'd changed her mind about letting him near.
Instead, her gaze settled on his hands. Pain flickered across her features.
"You scrubbed too hard," she said softly, her brows pinched in worry.
Reis looked down at his cracked hands and inspected them carefully. "I'm trying very hard," he said slowly, "to make sure that the next thing that touches you is only me."
She watched him for a moment. "I know," she said with a pained smile. Then she looked ahead, quietly giving him permission to join her.
Without a word, Reis mounted behind her. The moment his arms settled around her waist, something inside him calmed, as if he needed to touch her to know she was still real and whole.
They rode in a weary, steady rhythm. The trees curled above them as they rode through hollow trails.
At last the trees began to thin. Then the forest opened before them. Vast plains stretched endlessly beneath the darkening sky, silvered by frost and the dusk's fading light. In the distance, a town glowed warm against the coming night, lanterns flickering like scattered stars fallen to the earth.
“That’s Drumhaven,” Reis murmured. “When we reach it, we’ll be in Kaldyr.”
But Mirielle barely heard him. Her attention had lifted far beyond the town, beyond the plains.
Two giants rose from the earth itself in the distance.
For one startled heartbeat, she thought they were clouds.
Then she realized they were made of earth, massive and ancient, their snow-covered peaks vanished into the grey sky like the crowns of sleeping gods.
They stood side by side, looming silently over the world beneath them.
Mirielle stared openly. “Are..." She faltered. “...are those mountains?”
Reis frowned. There were moments like this far too often. Small innocent discoveries that reminded him of the cage she had lived in all her life. All the things she had been denied. All the ordinary wonders she had never once been allowed to see.
He looked toward the peaks.
“Those are the Sleeping Kings and Rosthein lies between them.”
Mirielle continued staring. She could not quite comprehend how something so impossibly large could exist.
“They’re beautiful,” she whispered.
Reis rested his chin on her head. He had crossed those mountains bloodied, furious, half-mad with war more times than he could count.
Yet hearing wonder in her voice made Kaldyr feel less like a battlefield and more like home.