CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
C HAPTER T HIRTY -S EVEN
There were several nights similar, where they would meet stiffly, warily, and by the end of the hour, both would be seated in the middle of the bed, hands touching. Thaddius told Farra everything. He told her of how the pure-bloods do not breed, and of the colony to the west of the kingdom, filled with Glacians of mixed parentage. He explained the days he had spent there – learning who the mixed bloods were, befriending them, and how he had come to slowly despise Vasteel and his nobles. How it had taken years and years to undo the prejudice, the notions of his superiority, and begin to feel the burn of regret, of blame.
“There was a young mixed boy in the Colony,” Thaddius told her. “He was the first I was acquainted with. He was winged, but his skin was like yours,” he said, running a hand over Farra’s forearm with something like reverence. “He was tasked with bringing repaired clothing to the palace from his mother and father, who tailor our clothes. All measures of labour are outsourced to the Colony,” he explained. “There is very little that a pure-blood does but drink and hunt for sport.
“I collected the clothes from him at the palace gates for a time. But he always approached on foot. At some point, I asked him why he did not fly, and he told me a brute had sliced through the membrane on one side. It was the first time I heard them call us that. ‘ Brutes’ .” Thaddius gave a small smile. “The child was bold to say it in front of me. I think he expected me to punish him. But instead, I asked him his name. It was Ryon. I offered to teach him to fly.”
“With a torn wing?” Farra asked, captivated by the strange story. “Is that possible?”
“If it is stitched correctly, yes. Wing injuries are rife in our world. We’ve found the ways to mend them. I took him home to the Colony. His mother nearly keeled over when I entered her shelter.” He smiled. “I helped her repair Ryon’s wings and then I taught him to fly again. It took weeks, but he was a determined sort – far more than any other Glacian I’d met.” Thaddius’ smile faded and his gaze turned distant. “But he was reckless. One evening, he crossed the boundaries and flew into the forest. He was quickly found. A group of hunting Glacians cut his wings to ribbons as punishment. They flew him back to the Colony and dumped him at its centre for all to witness. He was likely already dead. When I arrived the next day to visit, I found his mother and father weeping over his body. It was the first time I’d truly hated what I was. Who I was.”
Farra turned her eyes to their fingers. His were turned up and limp. She slid hers among them. “We cannot change what we are,” she said quietly. She had never met someone quite so filled with self-loathing.
“But we can change what we do,” Thaddius said resolutely, the sharp angles of his face softening some when he looked upon her. “Despite the rules that bind us.”
“You could leave this place,” Farra suggested. “Find some other ice palace to live in.”
He smirked. “Tempting. But I cannot. Vasteel would search for me, and I will not live out my remaining days in hiding.”
“Your remaining days?” Farra repeated slowly. “You make it sound as though they are numbered.”
Thaddius’ fingers tensed around hers. “All our days are numbered,” was his reply. “If I were honourable, I would shorten my stack.”
“Glacians do not age,” Farra argued, frowning. “Your days are innumerable.”
“I’ve come to believe that nothing should last forever, malishka. While the outside remains pristine, the inside rots and decays.”
“Malishka?” she repeated, taking the word and turning it over.
Thaddius only shook his head. “An old language word,” he said simply.
A gamut of emotion ghosted the Glacian’s features as they sat there in the waning torchlight. Farra had never seen one so haunted by their own existence. It pained her to watch it – the way he sliced himself open to get out the ugliness.
She leaned forward, bracing herself on the bed. Her shoulders gave a shallow twinge of pain, but it was easily ignored. With one hand she grasped his chin – how she had longed to feel her way along it – and turned his face back to hers. She viewed the planes of his face and marvelled. “You said nothing should last forever,” she accused, her voice sharper than her stare. “As though you intend to shorten the stack.”
He seemed too captivated to answer. His lips parted, erringly close to hers, but no words escaped.
“But you are not rotten within, Thaddius,” she told him. “You do not scare me.”
Thaddius swallowed. “I have done terrible things,” he said hoarsely, his voice hardly more than a whisper. “You should be scared.”
Farra’s hand moved unbidden to the Glacian’s throat, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her fingers.
He sighed, as though resigning himself. “Keep your distance from me, malishka.”
“My days are numbered too,” she replied, her lips glancing off his.
“Not yet they aren’t.”
She continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “I might use the precious few I have any way I choose.”
He cursed. “Last chance.”
But Farra had never met a challenge she could not face. She counted the beat of blood beneath her fingers. One… two…
There was a low growl that made her insides ripple and then his mouth was on hers.
He was softer than she anticipated, not made of the stone she had imagined him cut from, but he was as cold. A shiver thrilled through her as his hand pressed into the small of her back. She was filled with something heady and exasperating. She was rid of all thought as his lips explored hers; there was only feeling. He seemed hungry for her. His tongue slid along hers and she sighed. Her hands wound around his neck and pulled him closer and it stirred a feral noise from him, rising from somewhere deep in his chest. His hands wrapped around her back, and he pulled her into his lap.
She wore very little. She had precious few garments and had taken to sparing them upon returning to bed each evening. Her scrap of tunic fell low, past her hips, and she wore nothing beneath. Her bare legs wrapped around the Glacian’s waist, his fingertips skirting up her thighs slowly.
“God,” he murmured into her neck, so quietly she barely discerned the words. “Have mercy on me.”
Farra spared no thought for the Mother at all. She had not come to her aid on the Ledge, nor here in Glacia. She had not stepped in to save those who had sunk to the bottom of the pool. This bed, this moment, was not the design of a god, and Farra preferred it. This bed was wicked, unnatural, and she would delight in it to spite the Mother and all Her idleness.
She lifted the ragged hem of the tunic slowly, revealing inch after inch of skin, until the fabric rose over her face. She discarded it to the side.
And Thaddius’ eyes turned wild.
He revered her naked form, hands skating over her flesh, heavy exhales escaping his lips and hitting her skin. Another shiver thrilled her, and he felt it.
“Do you fear me now, malishka?” he asked her, in a voice that should be feared, in a way that should quell her.
Instead, she only felt want. Greed. Lust. And the dark glint of his eyes trapped in her stare revealed he was no better, no more controlled. “I don’t fear you,” she said. With her own hands, she cupped the weight of her breasts, kneading them without looking away. “Do you fear me?”
Thaddius did not respond. His eyes had left her face to watch her hands and his fingers on her hips began to bite into her flesh. He bared his teeth slightly. Whatever control he’d retained slipped away and he became a creature made of nothing but thirst, desire.
She found herself on her back, his face suddenly pressed between the valley of her breasts, and then lower, and she had to close her eyes at the exquisite feel of his cool tongue on her flesh, tasting her, suckling her. He reared up only to pull the clothes from his body – first his tunic, then the ties of his breeches – and Farra laid her eyes on the expanse of him and was awed.
The muscles entrenched in his torso heaved with each breath, and she was only spared a few aching moments before he returned his mouth to her, to her stomach, her neck, while she writhed. The pleasure elicited whines from the back of her throat and her sex clenched.
Thaddius’ face suddenly hovered over hers and he blocked out her surroundings, her senses, and any other sign that she might be a captive of the Glacian Kingdom. His forehead pressed gently to hers, his restraint clearly waning. “Will you let me have you, Farra?” he asked.
Her hands tracked down his stomach as he spoke, finally finding and gripping his cock.
He groaned, pressing his lips together in an expression that bordered on pain. “ Fuck. ”
“I’m yours,” she vowed, hardly aware of the weight in the words, the fate she was sealing.
He took her bottom lip between his teeth, only releasing it to say, “Are you sure, malishka?” He gasped as she stroked him. “Because once I take you, I’ll want to keep you.”
She pressed her lips to the cool skin beneath his ear and felt him shiver in return. “Then keep me,” she whispered darkly, heeding no sense. Only desire.
Fingers suddenly pressed against her entrance, and she gasped.
“So wet… warm,” he murmured, moving his finger upward to that collection of nerves, pulsing with anticipation. He caressed her until she was trembling, begging for him, her body undulating, and every roll of her hips seemed to tip him closer and closer to madness. Finally, with a hissed curse, he reared up and pressed his length inside her.
Farra’s walls clenched around the size of him, the heaviness. For a moment, she wondered if she could withstand him. But he moved with grace, with measured strokes, and soon she was meeting each thrust, welcoming all of him, until he was seated to the hilt, and he buried his face in her neck.
“Farra,” he murmured, his pace quickening. The slide of their bodies against each other only fuelled her. Her limbs were wrapped around him, as though they might be merged, might coalesce and combust. The combined sensations overwhelmed her – the feel of him sliding within her, the frenetic pace of his torso along hers, the gentle worship of his lips. She moaned a plea, and the Glacian heeded it. Without slowing, his fingers came between them, and he stroked her once, twice, three times.
The sensation built to an unbearable point, and there she was suspended, weightless. And then she fell.
He swallowed her cries, eclipsing her mouth with his own, and she gripped his neck as he claimed his own release, his entire form shuddering with the strength of it. Both of them falling, falling, but never crashing.
In the moments that followed, they simply lay staring at each other, their foreheads touching, and they passed revere between them like a silent language.
The next evening, when Thaddius stepped inside his own chambers, Farra was waiting for him, and it took them only seconds to collide and come completely undone.
Farra’s shoulders had long since healed enough that she could be moved and yet she said nothing to Thaddius, nor he to her, when they joined together after nightfall. She found herself delaying the moment, day by day, when they would need to confront reality.
While alone, she berated herself. She made herself promises that she would not continue what she had started. She thought of ways out of the Glacian Kingdom and wondered where she would go if it were not back to the Ledge.
She had heard the stories of a green valley, of course. Her mother, before she died, would let slip tales of the village she was born to. Farra thought she would ask Thaddius to take her there. But then she would think of the moment they would part ways, for she belonged in the glow of the sun, and he on his mountaintop, and she would delay the request another day. Just one more day.
When the door opened earlier than she had expected, before the light had dimmed in the singular narrow window, she turned smiling, expecting Thaddius.
Another Glacian stood upon the threshold and Thaddius was nowhere in sight.
All the fear she had stowed away and forgotten returned to her. She backed away.
But the Glacian merely rolled his eyes and scoffed at the ceiling. “Good god,” he said acidly. “What feeble trade.”
Farra inferred that he spoke of her, though she could not grasp his meaning. “Who are you?” she asked with far more valour than she felt.
He pinned her with a derisive stare. “Phineas,” he spat. “And you are the human who has possessed my oldest friend.”
Farra allowed her eyes to sweep over the Glacian once, taking in his considerable height, his long, unkempt hair. She watched for any sign of attack. “What do you want? Thaddius will return any moment.”
“No, he won’t. Unfortunately for both of us, he has tasked me with standing sentry by the door while he eats and sleeps. If I didn’t, there is little doubt he would have starved himself to keep you safe, by now.”
Farra narrowed her eyes. “You’ve guarded my door?”
“ Your door?” Phineas repeats. “As though you’ve already laid claim to what is his. Was his sanity not enough?”
“I do not know–”
“Come now,” Phineas interrupted, making a gesture of impatience. He paced the width of the room and back, his agitation apparent. “You are not the first human to be bedded by a Glacian. Question is, for how long does he intend to fuck you?”
Farra’s jaw ticked. She felt hot, vicious anger swell in her chest. “Why?” she asked. “Have I taken your place?”
His laugh was mirthless – lip upturned to reveal his teeth. “It is a clever ruse, seducing him at a time of… weakness.”
Farra thought of all Thaddius Mesrich had confessed to her. The hairs along her neck stood on end. “Weakness? You refer to his morality, I presume?”
“I refer to his stupidity. His morality has long been his worst enemy, admirable as it is. You are merely the newest poison.”
Farra’s eyes did not swerve from the Glacian before her. “And so you’ve come in his defence?” she goaded. “Are my wiles so effective that even a weaponless human becomes a threat?”
Phineas’ fists clenched and he gave a withering smirk. “I see what he means. You are indeed dauntless.”
Farra spoke clearly, hiding a rising tremor. “This is no ruse,” she said. “I… I care for him.” She realised it was true as she said it. Somehow, the ploy and reality had tangled.
“And he for you,” Phineas said immediately. “And you have no clue of the danger he places himself in by doing so. The King will have his head if he learns the extent of his devotion. Already, he walks a thin line between deception and treachery.”
“Because I am human?”
“Because he is a noble , one of the King’s preferred, and you are serving to unravel everything .”
Farra hesitated, Phineas’ proclamation rocking her.
“Should the King know his most prized has turned to the affections of a human, he will be killed. Do you understand that?” He pierced her with an accusatory stare, one that told her he did not understand the appeal. “Of all the prospects in Glacia, he had to go and fall in love with a human from the Ledge.” He shook his head, tired, exasperated.
“Will you reveal him to your King?”
“I will not need to,” Phineas said, turning back for the door. “You will be the death of him, not I. If you care for him… you will not allow this to go any further.”
“And then what should I do? Offer myself to the pool, or to the Chasm?” she called, a desperation taking hold of her.
Phineas looked at her one last time, raking her with his derisive judgement. “He will not allow either. Go to the Colony, and stay there,” he said. “When he comes to you, send him away.”
“And if I ask you to take me elsewhere?” Farra questioned, stopping him before he could close the door. “Somewhere beyond Glacia? Allow me to be where I belong?”
“I would deny you,” he said cuttingly. “Unlike him, I would not risk my life to save yours.”
He closed the door firmly behind him.
Farra pushed Thaddius until he relented. She made him admit that everything Phineas had said was true, and though the thought of leaving her in the Colony sent his fist flying into his armoire, he assented with heavy eyes. She could not deny either of them one last evening together, but before dawn broke, they untangled their bodies reluctantly.
The Colony seemed a place of colour, where the palace was made of greys. The lean-tos and huts and makeshift tents made a kaleidoscope of chaotic rows. The mixed were even more variant, their skin no different to those on the Ledge. The differences between these Glacians and herself were more subtle. They were larger than her, their shoulders broader. Their facial structure more angular, still giving the impression of having been once cut from stone, even if their skin was of conflicting hue.
Farra was taken aback by the sheer volume of them. There must be twice as many as those on the Ledge, perhaps even three times as many.
“Do not trust all of them,” Thaddius murmured frantically. He guided her through the Colony with a hand clutched around her upper arm, his eyes skirting their surrounds ceaselessly. “They may have no interest in your soul the way the pure-bloods do, but they may very well alert your presence to the palace if they believe they can leverage it.”
But contrary to his words, every pair of eyes they encountered saw Thaddius and quickly diverted. She noticed how quickly the pathways emptied as they progressed down them.
“They fear you,” she stated quietly, watching a cluster of children break apart and scatter as they neared. “I do not think they will dare defy you, knowing you brought me here yourself.”
“Pray you are right,” he grunted. “Because I will balance on a knife’s edge every day, fearing it will tip.”
“You will tell them you sent me to the slave quarters if they ask. Tell them you’ve made better use of me… whatever you need to.”
His jaw went taut, flexing menacingly beneath the skin, and he said nothing. His pace quickened, and she struggled to keep up.
They arrived at the entrance to a hut made of varying-sized timbers and pine thatching, and he led her beneath the cloth that covered the door without bothering to announce himself.
“Thaddius? Wha–” A female stood from her pallet on the ground.
“Annika,” Thaddius greeted her. “I– I am sorry, but…”
“This is her then,” Annika said in the absence of any explanation for entering her home unannounced. She was older. Her hair had streaks of silver that in no way resembled Thaddius’. Her face was delicately lined by the hand of time, her stature still impeding in the space. She stood tall and frowned at Farra, shaking her head slightly. “Please, do not ask it of me, Thaddius.”
The Glacian looked contrite. “I must.”
Annika scoffed harshly. “Take her where she belongs, you fool! You brought her to that fucking palace; you help her find safety.”
“I will,” Thaddius vowed. “But not yet. There are dozens of brutes swarming the slopes as we speak, hunting. There will be dozens more tomorrow. I cannot simply whisk her away without being seen. I need time to plan. I need to be careful.”
“You need a knee to the crotch,” Annika added, rubbing her forehead. “What trouble you’ve brought upon yourself, Thaddius, and now me.”
“I only need you to keep her safe for a week. Perhaps two. We were not seen leaving the palace.”
“Thaddius, I–”
“ Please !” he implored, his neck tensing with the force of his urgency. “Please,” he said again, only this time his tone was tempered. He seemed to be making a great effort to calm himself. “You’re the only one I trust with her.”
Annika stared at him for a moment. “You went and fell in love, didn’t you?”
Farra flinched, but turned in time to see Thaddius nod. He swallowed and did not meet her eye.
“Stupid of you,” Annika quipped, but her expression was one of pity, rather than admonishment. “Of all the females–”
“I assure you,” Thaddius interrupted. “I tried not to.”
Annika cursed, then turned her back on them both. “The next time you’re sent over that godforsaken Chasm, try snatching up a man.” She disappeared behind another door made of hanging cloth.
“It’s not quite so easy to discern the difference from the sky. They wrap themselves in heavy fur,” Thaddius called to her, rolling his eyes. Farra elbowed him.
“Speaking of which,” Annika returned, a bundle of fur in her arms. “Wrap yourself up, human. You’re turning blue.”
Indeed, Farra had walked the distance to the Colony in nothing but the prisoner garb she’d been forced into weeks before. Thaddius suddenly regarded her with an appalled expression. “Fuck,” he gritted out, closing his eyes. “I am sorry, malishka.”
Farra touched his arm. “I am fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Annika argued. “You keep telling him that and death will find you quicker than we can hide you.” She threw the bundle at Farra, who caught it and unravelled a heavy hide-backed blanket.
“It will also be your bed,” Annika told her, shrugging. “Try not to wet it in the snow.”
Farra wrapped it around her shoulders. “Thank you.”
“I will repay you, Annika,” Thaddius said. “And I will return tomorrow with food.”
Annika made a tsking noise. “No, Thaddius. You’ll stay away from here. Do you understand me?”
“I…” he hesitated, his fingers intertwining with Farra’s. “I cannot–”
“You can and you shall. If you truly care for her, you will leave her be.” Annika’s eyes bore into his. “Return when you are ready to whisk her down those slopes.”
“I am grateful for your aid,” he said roughly. “But I will not abandon her here and keep my distance.”
“Yes,” Farra insisted. “You will.”
Thaddius turned his back on Annika, his eyes boring into Farra’s. “You needn’t fear, malishka. I will not reveal you.”
“It is not myself I fear for,” she said, turning her hand over so that their wrists were pressed together, their pulses beating in tandem. “If you are caught, your King will kill you, will he not?”
“I will not be caught.”
“Stay away, Thaddius,” Farra told him firmly, her eyes wetting. “Please.”
He pulled her against him then, lowering his mouth to hers and catching her in an urgent kiss. A kiss that was an apology, a promise, and a salvation all at once. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” he said against her lips. He kissed her once more, then moved away on a deep sigh.
“Tell no one,” he said to Annika.
“Ha!” the female barked. “Half the Colony will know by now, Thaddius. Nothing is secret here.”
“Then tell them I will stomp down their houses and breathe fire if they open their mouths.”
Annika only rolled her eyes.
Thaddius looked back at Farra once more before departing, regret and panic breaking his fa?ade for a moment. And then he was gone.
Farra turned back to her newest keeper. “Thank you for the fur,” she said, uncertainty making her fidget.
Annika glared at her. It rather reminded Farra of her own mother’s reproach when Farra would spill or break or burn something. “It was my son’s,” she said. “Ryon’s.”
Farra turned her eyes downcast and nodded a little. “Thaddius told me of him.”
“Did he?” Annika said bluntly. It was apparent the female did not want her here in her home, wearing her son’s bed pallet, endangering her safety. “Did he bed you afterward?”
Farra’s throat constricted. She stilled.
And Annika nodded dolefully. “When is your next cycle, girl?”
“My…” Farra reeled, her mind racing. “I… uh…”
“Mother above,” Annika murmured. “Do you humans have no sense of preservation?”
The barb stung more than it should. Farra swallowed, determined to regain composure. “Any day now.”
“Well,” Annika said sharply, turning for the flap of cloth concealing the other half of her home. “We will soon see just how much trouble you are in.”
She disappeared behind the divider and Farra let loose a shuddering exhale. Her mind whirred, eclipsing all thought of escape plans. She looked to her abdomen, and closed her eyes as a curse escaped her lips. “Have mercy,” she uttered, shaking hands coming over her stomach. Then she sank to the floor, and for the first time since she was a child, she prayed.