Chapter Thirty-Two
Lorkan
But it was already going to utter shit.
He stepped through Blair’s danu and straight into a blizzard.
Snow plundered from the north, and white swallowed the village’s buildings, and the howling winds—
Moons, they wrapped Blair’s scent around him. Storm clouds and sage. His baser instincts fought to unleash while he wavered on unsteady legs against the blizzard’s force. Both challenged his restraint.
“We need to head back,” he yelled.
Blair’s curls twirled in the erratic flurries. “I can’t! My magic isn’t infinite!”
He knew that. Of course, he did. As teenagers, Blair had conjured danus to visit him from Nūa to the Drengr Village. The distance left her spent, but after a night’s rest, she’d be ready to conjure another one to return home come morning.
Which meant they had to stay the night.
Gods help him.
Blair braced against the wind, trying to stand.
He reached to assist, but she flinched away from his touch.
Right. Of course she didn’t want his help—he’d abandoned her.
Left her in Fika, where he’d suggested they travel to first, like some forgetful fool, although he recalled the reason he’d never shown every damn day of his existence.
Blair shivered, hugging herself. His inner wolf whimpered. His instinct warred within him—protect her. But he couldn’t touch her, not when his bloodthirst sat at the surface.
He could use his speed and strength, traits a latent wolf didn’t possess, but that gave away what he was. Hide what you are, his father’s voice whispered. Yet, he still had heightened hearing and sight he could depend upon.
“Follow me. I know where the inn is,” he lied.
Blair didn’t object, and he faced north and braced against the winds. He tilted his head right, narrowed his sights away and reached for his inner monster.
It wasn’t music, laughter, nor the clanging of cups he listened for, but hearts.
Thump . . . thump . . . Thump, thump, thump—no, that was Blair’s behind him.
Anxious, frightened, quickening her sweet blood through her veins.
Lorkan tuned it out, focusing ahead. Like some beast prowling in the snow, he hunted prey.
A dozen hearts beat east, the loudest concentration of them throughout the village.
He squinted and shielded his eyes with his hand.
Light glowed through the white, warm and pulsing.
Rook cawed, his black wings a dash through the frantic snowfall, and Lorkan almost smiled—smart, helpful bird.
After a half-mile, Lorkan pushed through the inn’s double-swinging doors, and Rook flew to his shoulder, claws clamping tightly into his cloak.
Blair muttered something under her breath, too quick for him to catch what, but before he asked, his attention snagged on her clothes.
Stars above, they were so unsuitable for traveling through the Vadon Mountains, anger lanced through him.
“Aye! Good evening to you both. Horrible night to be travelin’ I’d say.”
The innkeeper’s jolly greeting snapped Lorkan out of his reeling thoughts.
The male witch with ruddy cheeks and a friendly smile scrubbed the bar top.
He eyed Blair up and down. Not in an assessing way, but a knowing way, like he was used to desperate, tired patrons daily. Still, Lorkan stepped closer to her.
Big mistake, because fear heightened one’s scent, and they’d just walked into a witch’s inn and Blair was a traitor with a ten-thousand silver reward dangling over her head—
“Can I get you a room?” the innkeeper asked.
Hide. Lorkan’s mantra roared in his mind. Get her out of sight. “Yes, two please.”
“Aye, I’ve only have one room left for the night. The honeymooner’s suite, actually. Extra big bed. Large enough for two. Even a male as tall as you will fit. Though”—he pointed at Rook—“no pets inside.”
Before Lorkan could stop her, Blair stepped forward, ire lacing through her onyx stare. “He’s a familiar.”
Lorkan winced, and the innkeeper’s eyes narrowed a fraction.
Gods dammit, had she forgotten they were in a witches village?
How many witches had ravens for familiars?
Rook practically gave her identity away.
But she’d always been protective of the raven, as was Lorkan, but they couldn’t afford to reveal who there were.
Not here, stuck inside a village facing a snowstorm.
They needed to get out of the scrutiny of the innkeeper before a patron sipping their stew took notice.
But being trapped within four walls surrounded by Blair’s scent?
Lorkan’s inner beast howled at the prospect, greedy, while Lorkan’s insides churned with nerves.
His well-laid out plan was indeed going to shit.
“How much for a single night?” he asked the innkeeper.
“A silver coin will do.”
Lorkan placed three onto the bar top, and the innkeeper halted his cleaning, eyes gleaming with greed.
“I hope this pays for the room, some food, and overlooking my companion’s familiar,” Lorkan said.
The innkeeper swiped the money and shoved it deep into his pockets. “Ah, that’ll do. Up the stairs, third room on the right. I’ll have food left outside the door soon.”
He pushed a key towards Lorkan, but his arms locked at his sides. Was he strong enough to endure this? One room. One bed. With Blair.
But she didn’t seem bothered by the prospect. She grabbed the key and strutted up the steps two at a time. Lorkan sprinted to keep up. Blair didn’t glance back as she entered the room. On heavy feet, Lorkan followed.
With wet hair, sodden cloak, and racing heart, her beautiful scent looped around his senses like a hypnotizing vine, and Lorkan let the sweet tendrils sink into him.
She headed straight for the laden fireplace, busying herself with the flint. Cold gripped the room, and her teeth chattered. Loud. Blaring. An unavoidable reminder of how small the space was, and because Lorkan hated his vampyrism and how he felt towards Blair, he lashed out.
“I had it handled down there. You didn’t need to point out Rook was your familiar. He’s a raven, Blair. It gives away who you are.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s the middle of a blizzard. Witches . . . f-f-freak out over an inch of snow. They aren’t venturing through this to get to me.”
“Moons, I hope so.” For the third time, he assessed her thin layers. “Did you not think to pack a more fitting cloak for the Vadon Mountains?”
Blair stiffened. She didn’t bother looking when she said, “It’s all I had.”
“Hard to believe,” Lorkan said. “You’re one of the highest-regarded scholars in all of Nūa—”
“Was,” Blair snapped.
Lorkan suddenly felt like an ass. Because you are, he thought.
But perhaps that’s what he needed to be. It hid his feelings that had never faded for Blair, ones he had to avoid more than his wretched secret. He’d play the villain, and maybe she’d avoid him once they reached Vísdómr, making his plan all that much easier.
“Right, the Nūa papers have deemed you a rebel. How could I forget?”
Blair seethed, chest heaving. “That isn’t true, and you know it.”
“I don’t know you at all, actually.” His words came out smooth, easy. “A lot of time has passed since we last saw one another.”
She clenched her fists at her sides. “Seems time made you a prick.”
“Keen of you to notice.” Lorkan winked.
Blair didn’t respond, busying herself again with the flint. Yet, it fumbled from her shaking hands. She sank to her knees, and her teeth clattered worse than before.
Lorkan rushed to her side without thinking and cursed under his breath. Her usual rosy lips had turned a shade closer to blue. Shivers racked through Blair’s body, she risked chipping a tooth.
“Stars above, Blair, you’re hypothermic,” he whispered.
“What?” She shot him a glare. “I’m fine.”
Blair was anything but. Her clothes, or lack of, were soaked from the snow storm, and without a fire, they were stiff with frost. Her curls had lost their bounce, rigid from ice clumps. Lorkan clamped his eyes shut, listening to her heart. It beat at an alarmingly slow pace.
“Fuck.” His hands itched to reach for her, but instead, Lorkan grabbed the flint, starting on the fire.
A few swipes and embers caught onto the dry tuft of wool underneath wooden logs.
Lorkan bent lower on his hands and knees, blowing into the flame and feeding it air.
Soon, it crackled to life, but its heat was minimal compared to what Blair needed.
“Can you tap into your magic? You need to heal from the cold, Blair.”
“I . . .” She winced. “I can’t. The danu . . . we traveled far . . . and my . . . s-s-stores are depleted.” Her eyelids shuttered closed.
Lorkan snatched her hands—moons, they were as cold as stone, her fingertips almost purple. He rubbed them between his, and perhaps she was so unwell, Blair didn’t notice or care.
His next comment, though, snapped her from her haze. “You need to undress.”
“Absolutely not.”
Lorkan sighed, burrowing his eyes into her hers. “Your clothes are wet. If you don’t, you risk getting sick or worse.”
Blair’s onyx eyes darkened. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d planned better.”
Lorkan seethed. He could throw out the fact that if they’d traveled straight to Fika, this wouldn’t have happened either, but he didn’t wish to be that harsh, not when the mention of the place hurt them both.
“Says the witch with clothes fit for an outing in the city, not a journey through the Vadon Mountains. At least shed your cloak.”
“It’s all I had!” Blair shouted, snatching her hands from his and unclasping her cloak. Lorkan grabbed it draped it over the closest chair, hoping it’d dry by morning.
Blair reaching for her boots next. Yet, her fingers remained crooked and unmoving, unable to grasp hold of the laces.
Rook landed between them, nipping at Lorkan’s own fingers and hopping between Blair, still struggling in her wet trousers and high-neck blouse, and a too still Lorkan. His stomach twisted into knots. The raven’s message was clear.
“Gods, meddling bird,” he sighed, scooting closer to Blair. “You need to let me help.”
The love of his life stilled, but revulsion didn’t glint in her eyes. Instead, apprehension mixed with disbelief. “No.”
Lorkan exhaled. He wasn’t the sort of male who’d touch without permission, even in a time like this. “Please, Blair. It is only to get you warm, nothing more.”
Blair, albeit shivering, positioned her boot ahead of him. “Alright.”
Lorkan started with the laces, pulling them loose and then eased her feet, wet and cold to the touch, free of the ruined leather. He peeled her soaked socks off next, and positioned Blair closer to the fire. Her legs tangled with his.
Another shudder racked through Blair, and she managed to unfasten the button of her trousers, but the heavy, wet suede clung to her thighs.
Lorkan swallowed. “May I?”
Crimson bloomed across Blair’s cheeks. “Blasted books,” she cursed and relented, nodding for him to proceed.
Lorkan, careful to touch her pants and only her pants, tugged them inch after inch down her legs.
Over the slope of her strong thighs and past her knees.
His fingers might not have brushed her beautiful skin, but the sight of under the glowing fire had Lorkan’s blood heating and his inner wolf rising to the surface.
Get a grip, he roared to himself. She’s freezing, for moon’s sake.
He added her trousers to dry alongside her cloak, trying to dismiss the image of Blair’s bare legs from his thoughts, but by the time he turned back around, she’d pulled free of her blouse. It landed on the rickety wooden floors with a loud splat, rooting Lorkan in place.
Near naked, Blair sat by the fire with breasts peaked underneath a lacy bralette—
“Stop s-s-staring,” she muttered. “Not like you haven’t seen it all before.” She held up a hand. “My undergarments are staying. I guarantee you they’re dry.”
Lorkan’s jaw ticked, and he hurried to the bed, blinked away every horrible, wretched thought of Blair and how very, very, very wrong she was.
Yes, they’d had their fair share of teenage exploring.
Clothes had come off. He’d had the privilege of seeing her naked before, but Blair’s body was more a wonder all these years later, gifted by womanhood.
He couldn’t help staring at her fuller breasts, maddening hips, or slender legs he craved to kiss from thigh to toe.
Fate was indeed a cruel, sadistic bitch, to place what he so craved, dreamt of late at night, in a small room with the snow berating the village.
But he couldn’t have her. No matter how badly, because physical entanglements led to hunger of an entirely different kind.
He’d explored with lovers before, those like him, and he couldn’t stomach revealing his vampyrism
Focus. Lorkan exhaled through his nose. Get her warm.
He grabbed hold of the blanket from the supposedly large bed fit for two and pulled it free.
Lorkan moved back to the fireplace, sitting behind Blair.
“Come here,” he whispered.
“You c-c-can’t be serious,” she wheezed.
“Blair.”
She stiffened at his unbending tone and scooted back into his hold. She sat wedged between his legs and arms, and Lorkan wrapped the blanket around them both. Huddled together and sitting in silence aside from the delicate snowfall and crackling fire, they found warmth entangled with one another.
Soon, Blair fell asleep in Lorkan’s arms, and one of the dreams he’d had all these years, came true, and the curse didn’t rear its nasty head once during the night.