Chapter 9 Aura #2
Instantly, her gaze flashes with a familiar crimson tint, signaling that permission has been granted by her grandpapi.
If only she could access the range of powers on the continent without asking for permission!
Her furious fists strike any part of her ex-lover she can reach. In the distance, shocked cries erupt from the crowd.
A pair of rough hands grips her upper arms, lifting her away, much to her annoyance.
“Unhand me!” she shrieks, flailing at the one who dares to interfere with her vengeance.
Calder remains stoic as he freezes Aura’s boots to the ground. He turns back to the Manchineel, and ice shackles encircle her wrists.
Isabel screams as the frost bites into her bare skin.
“You are finished.” Calder grips her fair locks and drags her toward the approaching Toftlund guards.
“This isn’t over, Iss Drengr,” she snarls as they pass Aura. “I know what you are!”
He throws her to the soldiers, who clamp iron manacles on her wrists and ankles before Calder agrees to remove his seidr.
When he turns back to the Princess, his gaze is unreadable.
He releases her feet and places his hand on her lower back, guiding her through the crowd.
“She was the woman who hurt you.” He is not asking.
The berserker blood still courses through her veins, making it difficult for her to calm down. “If you hadn't interfered, I could have finished the Death Match!”
He nods, leading her away from the main square towards a patch of grass beneath a vast tree that towers over the surrounding buildings. He raises his hands and gestures. “Burn off the berserker.”
She doesn’t take a moment to consider his request and throws punch after punch into his waiting palms. She continues until her arms burn with exhaustion and the crimson dissipates.
“Your Drengr Trial has ended.” His words flow smoothly through her grunts and pants of exertion. “Killing the Kilton woman will not erase your failure.”
Aura shakes her head. “You don’t understand!”
“I understand perfectly well. You sought to prove yourself to Thora and Sigvid and earn your place. You cannot change the Trial.”
No! It is time to tear Isabel apart and make her pay for ruining my life.
This vengeance is as much about Isabel's destruction of her chances to become a Drengr as it is about her present and future. And yes, she was lying about them overruling the decision. A small part of her heart hopes to awaken to a new day with a medal around her neck.
Instead of blocking, Calder catches her fists in his hands and pulls her close to his tense but comforting chest. The scents of leather and wood waft off him, and dammit, she inhales deeply, unintentionally calming herself.
“Your anger is justified, Princess. Defending that little girl on the street was justified. But you must learn to control yourself, or you permit Isabel’s actions to haunt you indefinitely.”
“Speaking from experience?”
Calder grumps, releasing her hands. “Princess, I have seen you perched all over Blackwood with a notebook and quill, sketching all kinds of birds and people.” He tilts her head with one finger to look up at him.
“I know you spend hours devouring every book you can get your hands on. And I know you have a fire in your belly.”
“You noticed all of that?”
“I notice everything you do.”
She lowers her arms, realizing she is still holding them up to attack.
“My point is that there is so much more to you than the warrior blood pulsating in your veins.” He cups her face, and a flicker of rare emotion peeks through his frigid exterior.
“Calder…” She isn’t sure what to say, but she keeps her focus fixed on the ground.
People rarely see Aura for all that she is. As the youngest child, she is often an afterthought, which allows her to behave as she wishes. From the moment she met Calder, the most compelling aspect of him was that his frostbitten gaze fell upon her and only her.
“Princess,” his voice is firm and reproachful. His rough fingertips trace her face, settling on her jawline, where he grips her with an unyielding hold.
Her heart pounds as he, once again, compels her to look into his stoic yet hardened face.
“I need those beautiful eyes to hold my gaze until I let you go.” His thumb glides over her neck, lingering on her pulse point.
An inferno burns within her belly at his gentle touch. The warmth radiating from his body envelops her. If she were to rise on her tiptoes, she could effortlessly press her lips to his.
Would his kiss be as rigid as his psyche? Would his beard tickle my face?
“Keep your bedroom door locked at night.”
She opens her mouth to challenge this strange request when he presses his calloused finger against her lips, and the sensation is like lightning to her core.
“There are those who would seek to ruin you. And I might not always be there to stop them.”
“Blackwood is the safest place in Treland, perhaps all of the Endless Shore.”
“You never know who lurks in the shadows.” His hand roams down her side, resting on her wrist, atop the braided bracelet from Eivor. “Some may be unable to resist the temptation of your soft skin or the fullness of your lips.”
His hot breath grazes her neck, shooting aching pangs of need between her legs. She leans closer, her lips parted expectantly, but he does not reciprocate. Instead, he watches her with a hooded gaze.
“What if I wish to tempt someone?” she whispers.
He smirks. “Then I will be forced to offer them eternal sleep in my ice.”
She watches his lips as he speaks, her heart thundering in her chest.
Around her wrist, the bracelet freezes. “Careful, Princess.”
“Does a mere princess threaten you?” She taunts him, knowing she can only push him so far.
His hand squeezes her throat, shoving her against the tree. He leans so close that they exchange breath.
“Your existence is my torture.”