Breath of Winter, A

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Breath of Winter, A Page 21

by Edwards, Hailey


  “He does his best,” a wispy voice chastised from somewhere to my right.

  “Marne?” My head swung her way. She emerged from the shadows in the corner of the room. A white dress tickled her ankles. A heavier coat of the same length concealed her wings. Her dainty feet were bare, her toes almost black with dirt, and her white-blonde hair teased the small of her back.

  Propping my chin in my palm, I braced my elbow on my knee. “How did you get in here?”

  A rosy glow spread through her pale cheeks. “I wanted to speak with you. I was waiting for you to wake when Henri arrived.” She drifted closer. “I thought he was bringing you medicine, and then you two were—and I wanted to interrupt but it seemed rude and then I was…stuck. I am sorry.”

  “It’s all right,” I assured her. “It’s better for my reputation that you were here.”

  “Your brothers are protective of you.” She nodded as though she understood.

  I sighed. “That’s an understatement.”

  Marne sat on the edge of the bed with her back to me. Through the fabric of her coat, two slight protrusions broke the well-tailored line, both hidden in creases. “It’s good that you have each other.”

  I tore my gaze from them. “You have Edan.”

  “Yes. I do.” She faced me. “We also have each other, Zuri. You and I are, as far as we know, the only ones who have survived separation from a sigil. You wore yours so briefly it might not have the same effect on you as it has on me.” Her tone softened. “Harbingers remain connected, all the time. They are never alone, not in their minds. For several months, I shared a mental link with my maker. When Edan found me, he severed that connection, and I craved it. I long for it still. Sometimes in the dead of night I can hear their song in my head. They call to me. It’s not right to never have peace.”

  I steeled myself to ask, “Do you hear Idra?”

  “I do.” She laughed harshly. “Our makers are gone, and yet Idra remains to torment us.”

  “I haven’t heard Idra speak since I woke, but I can still sense her.”

  “Ignore that part of you as best you can, all right?” She grasped my shoulders. “I wanted to warn you before we left and to tell you if you ever need council, you can contact me through Henri.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the offer.” I would no doubt take her up on it.

  “Oh.” She jolted. “Edan is coming.”

  “How do you know?” I asked. “Is it a side effect from the sigil?”

  “No.” She straightened her coat. “I just do. I always have.”

  “I hope we can talk again before you leave.”

  “I would like that.” She faced the door. “Edan enjoys when people dislike him. Be kind. I swear it’s the swiftest way to defang him. Cruelty, he understands. Kindness, he can’t begin to fathom.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Especially since our lives were intertwined for the unforeseeable future.

  “Do that.” She rose at the exact moment the door opened.

  Edan barreled into the room, heading straight for Marne. His chill gaze swept over her, tallying any out-of-place hairs I was sure. Seeming satisfied she was none the worse for wear, he allowed her to link their arms and escorted her toward the exit. Marne winked over her shoulder as she passed.

  Sharing her mischievous grin, I called, “Thank you for allowing her to visit with me, Edan.”

  He pivoted on his heel, glaring as if I said Shove a hot poker up your arse with my compliments.

  “We’ll talk more later, Edan.” Henri patted his shoulder. “You ought to get Marne to her room.”

  With a nod, Edan eased down the dark hall, leading Marne out of sight.

  “I suppose that explains why Edan was resistant to my kill all harbingers mentality. She’s nice.”

  “I would think so, and yes, she is,” he agreed. “Do I want to know how she got in here?”

  “I’m not quite sure myself.” I frowned. “You didn’t know she was here? Edan must have.”

  “There isn’t much about her he doesn’t know.” Henri withdrew a simple parcel from behind his back and tossed it onto my lap. “If you’re feeling adventurous, there’s something I want you to see.”

  Shredding the paper, I held my gift before realizing what it was. “Oh my—Henri. No.” I flung it across the room and narrowly missed clobbering him with it while I shuddered. “That was cruel.”

  Rescuing his saw from the floor, Henri ran his finger along the edge. “There’s someplace I want you to see. It will be easier to reach if you can walk. Are you interested?”

  I flung my covers aside and scooted down the bed to him. “Very.”

  He caressed my leg as he lifted it. “Where was this enthusiasm earlier?”

  “Oh, Henri.” I patted his cheek. “If you thought I was good with one leg, just wait until I have two.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Water splashed when Henri tossed his cloth into the bowl. “There you are. Good as new.”

  I studied my glistening calf, pink from Henri’s scrubbing. “It’s a scrawny thing, isn’t it?”

  He bent to kiss my knee, and the touch of his lips spread tingles up my leg.

  “Muscle atrophies if it’s not used.” He cradled my ankle. “It takes a while, but you will rebuild your strength.” He gently rotated it. “How does this feel? Any pain? Pressure? Good. The break healed cleanly as best as I can tell. Which, considering everything you went through, is rather miraculous.”

  “It’s a testament to the skill of my physician.” I winced. “No miracles were involved.”

  Henri stopped. “Are you in pain?”

  “No.” I sighed when his eyes narrowed. “Yes, it hurts, it’s tender, but I can deal with it.”

  “Tenderness is to be expected.” He twisted on his stool, reaching behind him to the chair Ghedi usually occupied. He tossed aside the blankets my brother had been using and lifted a second parcel, this one much larger than the first. He placed the bundle across my knees and leaned back, waiting.

  Fingers poised over the paper, I toyed with the frayed ends of curling twine. “As much as I want to open this, I’m not sure I should trust you. It isn’t another saw, is it? There are no teeth, are there?”

  “Nothing in the wrapper will offend you, I promise.” He frowned. “Except perhaps the color.”

  “The color?” I patted the paper. “Is it clothing?”

  He gestured to the parcel. “You have to open it to find out.”

  “I’ll risk it.” I pointed a warning finger at him. “If this is another trick, I will chase you down.”

  “I would expect nothing less.”

  Tearing into the paper revealed a pewter-gray coat. I set it aside to find a matching shirt and a pair of pants beneath. “My clan colors—they’re perfect.” I lifted the pants, tapping their buttons with a fingernail. “It will be nice to wear clothing more substantial than a nightgown. Thank you, Henri.”

  “It was the least I could do considering I had to cut you out of the pair you arrived wearing.” He reached under the chair. “I had these slippers made for you. You shouldn’t wear restrictive footwear for a few more weeks if we can help it. I have the crutches you requested in the hall. Go easy on that ankle until it gets used to bearing your weight again. In a few weeks, I’ll examine it and reevaluate.”

  I used my most serious voice. “I will follow your instructions to the letter.”

  “See that you do.”

  I petted the supple fabric. “I will also pay you back for this.”

  “No, you won’t.” His brow creased. “It was a gift.”

  My lips parted on a complaint, but he covered my mouth.

  “Fine,” I said through his fingers. I grasped the edges of my sleeping gown. “Help me dress?”

  His throat flexed when he released me. “If I do, we won’t be leaving for a long while.”

  I bit my lip, debating. “This isn’t fair, you know. I haven’t gone anywhere in weeks.”

/>   “I’ll make it simple for you, then.” He backed toward the door. “Get dressed.”

  Eager to learn what other surprise Henri had in store for me, I tugged my gown overhead and shimmied into my new clothes. “Perfect.” The coat was my favorite. I never had need of one at home, had never worn one until our trip up north, and this one was much finer than the heavy woolen coats I had bought for the journey. The cut lent me an air of sophistication that was laughable considering who I was and how I carried myself, but I loved it.

  I finger-combed my hair, noticing it was past time for a cut if I wanted to keep the short style.

  Too eager to wait, I stood as I called, “I’m ready.”

  Dull pain shot up my leg through the sole of my foot. I rocked to and fro, testing its strength.

  “Why doesn’t it surprise me you didn’t wait?” Henri offered the crutches. “Here. Use them.”

  “It’s not like I was jumping up and down.” I hooked the crutches under my arms and let part of my weight sink onto them. The relief in my tender ankle was immediate. “That feels much better.”

  He observed my first steps around the room. “Can you manage, or should I bring your chair?”

  “I can manage. Even if I can’t walk on it that far, my armpits and good leg are up to the task.”

  “In that case…” he swept out his arm to encompass the hall, “…let me show you my home.”

  The part of his home he wanted to exhibit was farther away than I anticipated.

  About the time my ankle began complaining, light warmed the tiles ahead of us. To our right, an enormous hatch stood open. I had to step over its threshold and onto tiles of a different pattern on the other side. The walls were textured differently here too. The entire section of hallway was unlike any I had seen in Erania so far. And light. Light poured from fixtures mounted onto the walls and ceiling.

  “This must be part of the original tunnel.” I looked to him for confirmation.

  “It puts my section to shame, doesn’t it?” He nodded. “I spent so much time preparing my new laboratory, I neglected the niceties.”

  I waved a crutch. “Lead on. You’ve got me curious now. Where are we headed?”

  “You’ll see.” He strolled ahead of me, giving me time to gawk at the ridiculous gold-leaf ceiling and the walls papered with woven silk panels threaded with gold. This section of the nest struck me speechless. Its lavishness scraped all negative thoughts from my mind. Its lush excess surpassed all my original expectations of the Araneidae clan home, exceeding the scope of my wildest imaginings.

  Voices carried. It surprised me after so many weeks of silence to hear laughter and the shuffle of footsteps from so many people. The odd thing was, as much life as I heard and sensed, I saw no one.

  We should have spotted someone by now. “Where is everyone?”

  Mischief laced his words. “You aren’t afraid to be alone with me, are you?”

  “I would hardly have come with you if I was.” I snorted. “I hear voices. Where are the people?”

  “A dozen feet in that direction, if I had to guess.” He pointed to our left. “This tunnel is private from the main nest. These passages are meant for the ruling family, and our intimate rooms are located here. The walls are thinner where they join the main hub. That’s why you can hear activity on the other side. That section of tunnel is rarely used, so there’s a slight risk of our location being revealed.”

  “I don’t know how you keep it all straight. This place is a maze within a maze. My head spins to think about where all these tunnels go and who has access to what. It’s too much for me.”

  His steps never faltered. “You get used to it.” Reaching the end of the tunnel, he stopped before a set of gilded doors and glanced back at me. “This was a gift to my parents. I repurposed an unused room of theirs as a gift for their last anniversary. It belongs to Lourdes now, but I borrowed it for us.”

  “Borrowing your sister’s things,” I teased. “Now I must see it.”

  “Go ahead.” He stepped aside. “Open it.”

  He didn’t have to ask me twice. I twisted the knob, pushed the door open and gasped.

  Stepping inside fooled me into believing I had stepped into a sunlit meadow. Soft lights glowing overhead faded into the treetops gracefully arching across the ceiling. Elegant tree trunks surrounded us. Through them, I spied a meadow on one wall and grazing pecora in sight of a canis on another. Mist and ether drifted through the forest floor of the third wall. The fourth wall—I turned a careful circle and my hand went to my throat. “You did this?”

  “I arranged for it.” Henri walked to the center of the room. “This place exists, in Siciia. This meadow was Father’s favorite hunting ground when he was a boy. He loved Erania, but he spoke of Trajer’s Meadow often and fondly. I sent our clan’s most gifted artist there to survey the area personally. This is the vision he brought back with him, and it became Father’s favorite room in the nest.”

  “I can see why.” The sun and trees ignited a sweet ache in my chest. “As someone well acquainted with homesickness, I can tell you any remembrance of home is a welcome salve when it’s so far away. You gave him a treasure.”

  He grinned. “It was worth the effort to steal Father’s attention from Lourdes for a few days.”

  “Sweet rivalry,” I said. “I appreciate the sentiment well.”

  Noticing my fascination with the fourth wall, Henri reached up and traced the gentle curve of a delicate waterfall as it trickled into its basin, then curved sinuously in its creek bed over the forest floor and out of sight.

  “Don’t touch it,” I scolded him. “The oils in your hand will corrode the surface.”

  He arched an eyebrow, but I took it as a compliment.

  “There are several artists among my people. I had my hand slapped for touching for years.”

  He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I will do my best to keep my hands to myself.”

  Walking slowly to him, I let my crutches hit the floor. “I didn’t say you had to go that far. There are other things in this room that might benefit from you putting your hands on them.” My approach was less graceful than I might have wished. Niggling doubts murmured in my ears that I was the one propelling us toward this moment. Then I decided my brothers had been right for once. I enjoyed the pursuit. I enjoyed taking what I wanted, and I wanted Henri.

  He must have noticed my hesitation, torn between the desire to chase or be pursued.

  He saved me the trouble of going to him. He came to me, wrapping his arms around me.

  I reveled in his warm embrace, in the need making his breath ragged at my ear.

  “I am grateful to Lailah for one thing,” he said against my neck. “She brought you to me.”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” I nuzzled him. “I might have made my way up here eventually.”

  His arms tightened around me. “What would I have done without you?”

  “Gone on to live a productive life free from chaos?”

  His fangs slid down my throat. “I’m finding I have a taste for chaos.”

  Chills dotted my neck.

  “Oh?” I let him cup my jaw and turn my head aside.

  His fangs pierced me. Heat spread from those two punctures through my limbs. I clutched his shirt to get more, get closer. He obliged, biting deeper, drawing me nearer. He fit our bodies together, and the hard proof of his arousal pressed against my thigh. I eased a hand between us, stroking him until his groan turned to gentle kisses over his bite marks. His lips moved lower, almost brushing my shoulder, and he struck a second time. Venom singed my veins, setting my flesh on fire.

  “You’re venomous?” I gaped at him. “But you’re Araneidae.”

  His grin was sly. “Only on my mother’s side.”

  I writhed against him, seeking relief, unable to do more than cling to him and moan for release.

  “Let me help,” he murmured.

  “Yes.” My nails bit into his shoulder.

&n
bsp; Henri scooped me into his arms and carried me across the room.

  I squirmed in his hold. “How is this helping?”

  “You’ll see.”

  He strode toward the section of mural where mist swirled onto the floor. He knelt there, seating me on the plush ledge of a low bench I hadn’t noticed. Its pale fabric mirrored the wispy grays in the wall behind it. Once seated, I realized the bench hugged the walls of the entire room, complementing the section of mural above it while blending the seating seamlessly into the painting from a distance.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I fisted his collar and pulled him closer. “Not yet, but it has potential.”

  I melded our lips together, tasting Henri and craving more. While my hands unfastened his shirt buttons, my mouth paid tribute to his. I shoved his shirt past his shoulders and linked my arm behind his head. He laughed while I bent him to me, one hand caressing his nape while the other eased down his chest, over his stomach, to tangle with the buttons holding his pants on hips I wanted to savor.

  Cool air whispered over my skin. Henri had unbuttoned my shirt. My jacket was…I’m not really sure where my jacket went. He parted the fabric and guided it down my arms. The chill of the room made my nipples pebble when he touched my breasts. Warmth from his mouth as he tasted each taut peak arched me against him, desperate for more of his decadent heat.

  His hands traveled down my stomach, past my navel, to the waist of my pants. “Can you stand?”

  I nodded and used his shoulders to brace as I went to my feet.

  Henri flicked the buttons open, slid the pants past my hips and drew in a sharp breath when he noticed my lack of undergarments. I should have teased him, taunted that if he had selected those intimate items I would have worn them—for him.

  But his lips pressed to the skin beneath my navel, and my stomach trembled in response.

  “You are perfect,” he said between kisses.

  “Are you sure?” I panted. “Not too tall for you?”

 

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